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As evening settled over the northern lands, Esme prepared herself in a gown of muted blue-gray, the subdued color perfectly blending with the dimming light coming from the candelabras at her side table.
The dress was a fitted bodice that traced her silhouette with graceful precision, while the skirt cascaded down to brush the floor in a sweep of soft fold.
She adjusted her hood, its delicate lace edging framing her face, and pulled the long, slim-fitted sleeves snugly over her wrists. A wide belt with an ornate buckle cinched over her waist, lending a touch of structure to the flowing gown and emphasizing her poise.
Tonight, she was due to face the elders of the North for a discussion she could already sense would be filled with tension. Many still bristled at the thought of her holding any authority over them, it wasn't obvious, but she noticed it during the earlier confrontation downstairs.
