Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 87050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
She held up one of the dresses, a deep sapphire blue that reminded me of the depths of space. “The Prosperians have adapted many aspects of old Earth’s Victorian era, including their fashion sensibilities. They believe in concealing the body fully, but in a way that still entices the imagination.”
I ran my hand along the length of the dress, marveling at its construction. Despite the full coverage it provided, I could see how the fabric would cling to certain curves, hinting at the form beneath without revealing too much.
“It’s a fascinating balance,” Sala continued, her voice taking on a tone of admiration. “The dresses are designed to be both modest and alluring. They cover everything, yet the way they drape and flow can be incredibly sensual.”
She held the blue dress up against me, her eyes appraising. “This one will look stunning with your coloring, Tessara. The way it hugs the waist before flaring out at the hips… it will accentuate your figure beautifully.”
Sala helped me into the sapphire blue gown, her gentle hands guiding the fabric over my curves. The dress felt soft, but also tight against my skin, and I suddenly realized that I had not felt the touch of fabric in that way since the Vionians had stripped me when they had conquered my planet and sent all its young women into sexual servitude.
My heart beat faster as Sala touched the neck of the gown. I saw in the mirror that had appeared on the wall how the tiny pearl buttons that ran up the back of the bodice fastened themselves of their own accord. I marveled at how the fabric seemed to mold itself to my body, accentuating my figure while still maintaining an air of modesty.
“There,” Sala said, stepping back to admire her handiwork. “You look absolutely breathtaking, Tessara. Prosperian clothes, like Magisterian ones, respond to the touch of the user—the authorized user.”
I caught something strange in Sala’s tone and I turned from the mirror to look at her quizzically. Her cheeks had gone slightly pink, and she looked over at Alpha, who was watching us with a smile on his face.
“The authorized user,” he said in his low, rumbling voice, “is often not the woman wearing the gown but rather her husband or guardian.”
My eyes went wide, and I looked back at Sala.
“And,” she said, with a very ambiguous smile, “Prosperian women wear complicated underclothes, too—unlike us Magisterians. Those work the same way.”
I frowned in confusion. “Complicated?” I asked. Dress on my home planet had been of the simplest variety. I knew that some cultures wore light clothing underneath their outer garments, called underwear, but I didn’t understand how it could be complicated.
Sala laughed lightly and companionably—not at me, but with me. “I imagine you’ll be introduced to Prosperian lingerie in the not too distant future,” she said. “And I don’t want to spoil the experience.”
Lingerie. The word seemed somehow exotic, and—because whatever these garments were, they would obviously have close contact with a woman’s intimate places—very naughty. I swallowed hard, feeling heat creep into my cheeks once more.
Wanting to hide my confusion, I turned to face the mirror. My breath caught in my throat. The woman staring back at me was a stranger—gone was the downtrodden concubine, replaced by an elegant lady. The deep blue of the dress made my pale skin glow and brought out the green of my eyes. The bodice hugged my curves before flaring out into a full skirt that whispered against the floor as I moved.
Sala slipped into her own gown, a rich emerald green that complemented her black hair and bright blue eyes. As she fastened her own buttons, then put the finishing touches on her hair, smoothing it into a sleek style that framed her face beautifully, a chime sounded from the intercom.
“Ladies,” Alpha’s deep voice said, calling us out of our mutual admiration, “our shuttle is ready for departure. Shall we proceed to the hangar bay?”
Sala gave me one last appraising look, tucking a stray strand of my hair behind my ear. “Perfect,” she said softly. “Are you ready, Tessara?”
I took a deep breath, smoothing my hands over the silk of my skirt. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.
The journey from the Prince Hend to the surface of Prosperia passed in a blur of new experiences. The shuttle ride was smooth, nothing like the jarring transports I had endured on Vionian ships. As we docked with the orbital station, I pressed my face to the viewport, marveling at the gleaming structure that seemed to float effortlessly in space.
The space elevator was unlike anything I had ever experienced. I remembered the crew of the Conqueror of Bresla sneering about the Magisterians and their fancy elevators, maintaining that real warriors braved the atmosphere in their shuttles. I knew now what I had suspected then—my Vionian masters had felt nothing truly but envy for their enemies’ technological achievements. I could hardly believe how beautiful the blue planet looked beneath our feet as we descended, or how inconceivably quickly we traveled to the surface. The ground seemed to rush to meet us so quickly that I had a moment of panic that we could never stop in time.