Fen.
The room was still, save for the soft murmur of the seamstress's work. As Elsbeth stood before the mirror, I couldn't help but watch her, my gaze lingering on the way the gown fell across her form. It was beautiful, I couldn't deny that. The silver fabric shimmered softly, catching the light like liquid moonlight, and the intricate runes and moon emblems etched into the hem were a testament to the weight of the ceremony.
But beauty wasn't what I was focused on.
My eyes moved over the gown with a critical eye, noting the places where it was too vulnerable, too exposed. No, this wasn't just a gown for a Queen. This was a battle uniform. A piece of armour cloaked in elegance, something that had to protect her as she made herself a target in a public forum.