After the princes left to let her dress, still maintaining the image that they weren't sleeping together, Lilian closed the door and stared at the clothes laid on her desk chair.
It felt strange, wearing armor disguised as casual wear to meet her childhood neighbors.
She changed slowly, and felt the clothes felt comfortable. If she hadn't known better, she would never have guessed they were reinforced.
When she wore the leather jacket and looked in the mirror, she had to admit they had chosen well. She looked polished but not flashy, and stylish but not trying too hard.
The kind of outfit that would blend in at a small-town gathering event while still standing out just enough to be noticed.
A knock sounded at the door before Margaret stepped inside, immediately assessed Lilian's outfit. "You look nice," she said. "These clothes are from Dante, I assume?"
"He has good taste," Lilian said, which wasn't exactly a lie.
