Chapter 109: The Sin of Greed’s Fashion Show
Seraphel
’’This is too much," I sighed for the umpteenth time, letting out an exhausted breath as Raizel handed over yet another one of his absurdly flashy, eye-straining outfits meant for the wedding.
Azriel had truly decided to make my life a living nightmare by putting the Sin of Greed in absolute charge of my Wedding and Coronation attire.
Today was the long-anticipated wedding and Coronation day, and yet Raizel had already made me change into five different elaborate robes since dawn.
I felt like a glorified mannequin being stripped and dressed on repeat.
"Please, Your Grace, I believe this will be the final one," Analisse assured me gently with a reassuring smile. She beckoned to Durin and Rami, who stepped forward to help me out of the heavy, jewel-encrusted outer garment I was currently trapped in.
I heaved a deep sigh, opening my mouth to lodge a formal complaint, but I knew it was useless.
Raizel’s greed truly knew no bounds. Every single time I tried on a dress, he would find a reason to reject it—not because it looked bad on me, but because his selfish heart physically ached at the thought of giving it away!
"No, no, absolutely not!" Raizel’s dramatic voice had echoed through the dressing chamber earlier, his hands clutching his chest in mock agony. "The diamonds embroidered along that train are rare celestial cut! They are far too expensive to be worn by anyone but me! I can’t let that walk down the aisle!"
And then came the next outfit.
"Take it off! Take it off right now!" he gasped, waving his golden fan frantically. "I refuse to believe you look that good in emerald silk! That shade belongs in my vault, not on a bride! It’s an insult to my personal collection!"
He was the literal embodiment of greed, unable to part with a single thread of luxury even when he was the one tasked with dressing the future consort of Katula.
Raizel was a pain in the ass.
"I just hope he picks this one," I muttered under my breath, smoothing down my inner robes. "The cuts on these sleeves are supposed to be in vogue right now. He should at least want me to look trendy."
Rami paused, holding a silk sash in his hands, and gave me a thoroughly confused, questioning look. "Trendy? In... vogue?"
I sighed, shaking my head. "Forget I said anything."
Explaining modern slang to him was a lost cause anyway.
But slip-ups like that always left a bitter, nostalgic ache in my chest. It reminded me of who I truly was underneath all these heavy silks and divine titles: Nathan.
Sometimes, I realized with a jolt of quiet fear, I actually forgot my real name. I had lived here so long, adapting to the court politics, the magic, and the absolute chaos of this realm, that the name Nathan barely felt real anymore. Nathan belonged to a world of concrete streets, modern clothes, and everyday simplicity.
Yet, despite how much I had fit into this fantasy world, the habits of my old life never fully left my tongue.
"Forget I said that," I repeated softly, lifting my arms as Rami stepped closer and tied the deep red robe securely around my waist.
The outer dress was a sweeping, blood-red robe adorned with exquisite white lotus flowers embroidered in shimmering silver thread along the hem and sleeves. It was unmistakably traditional robes from web novels that I had read and shows that I had watched.
I knew without asking that Azriel had personally requested the white lotus design for me. Even though I tried not to overthink his actions, I couldn’t deny the truth staring me in the face.
Azriel was doing everything in his power to please me. Over the past few days, the terrifying, ruthless Sin of Lust had changed for the better. He had shown me warmth, patience, and a strange, overwhelming empathy that he reserved solely for me.
Only for me.
That distinction was crucial. Because as far as the rest of the world was concerned, Azriel was still a monster.
The bloody memory of Slyven’s swift execution still haunted the back of my mind—how Azriel had sentenced the concubine to death without so much as a second thought, without blinking an eye.
It was a chilling reminder that Azriel didn’t care about anyone else in this realm. He cared only for me.
"Your Grace, we are finished with the robe," Analisse announced smoothly, pulling me from my dark thoughts.
I let out a long, heavy breath and rubbed my cold hands together, feeling the luxurious weight of the red silk against my skin. "I truly hope he doesn’t change his mind this time. If he tries to make me wear another dress, I might actually lose my sanity."
"This is going to be the last one, I promise," Analisse said, giving me a sweet, comforting smile.
Looking at her gentle face, a sudden, sharp coldness washed over me. Her smile was identical to the one she wore in that terrible nightmare I had during Odomos’s curse.
In an instant, memories of that terrifying nightmare flashed behind my eyelids—the blood, the horror, the suffocating isolation.
My heart began to race violently against my ribs, a cold sweat breaking out across my neck as a sudden wave of panic seized my chest.
Was I dreaming right now? Was this whole morning just another illusion crafted to break me before I realized it?
Because of tradition , I had been moved to a separate guest hall to sleep alone the night before the ceremony—just like in the nightmare.
Everywhere I looked, the grand stone pillars and doorways were draped in long, flowing red ribbons, creating a sea of crimson that mirrored the horrific visions from Odomos’s spell.
"Your Grace?" Analisse asked softly.
Her warm, real fingers brushed gently against the back of my hand, grounding me instantly.
And it gave me the asssurance that I was not in a dream.