Chapter 41: Fake Alice [2]
Alice glanced down at her dress.
It shimmered with a deep wine-red hue—dyed with pigments extracted from rare Eastern flora, combined with delicate silver threadwork only found in the artisanal looms of the Western valleys. It was beautiful, regal, and undeniably expensive.
And utterly miserable to wear.
’Uncomfortable.’
While the dress surely turned heads, it was stiff around the waist and shoulders, and the way the fabric clung to her legs made even walking feel like a chore.
She only wore it because today demanded it—a social gathering where every noble heir would be putting on their best mask.
Her heels weren’t much better. High and narrow, they added just enough height to compensate for what many in court whispered was her "unfortunate" lack of stature.
In a room full of vultures pretending to be peacocks, even the smallest flaw could become fresh meat.
Her gaze flicked to Julies, walking a few paces ahead. His posture wasn’t exactly proper—hands tucked behind his head, gait casual, too relaxed for courtly etiquette—but there was something liberating about it.
No stiff collar. No heels. No title to drag behind him like a chain.
She frowned.