Eleanor lifted the dress out of the chest and held it up against the light of the glowing ice, and Jocelynn forgot all about the cold.
It was wool, dark grey like a winter sky just before the snow, spun so fine and soft that it draped over Eleanor's arms like water. Thick black fur ran around the collar, the cuffs, and all the way along the hem, so dark and glossy that it seemed to drink in the pale blue light of the room.
"Wolf," Eleanor said, running her fingers through the fur at the collar. "Black wolf. Nyrielle prepared this for you."
"Nyrielle did?" Jocelynn asked.
"Mmhm." Eleanor turned the dress around so Jocelynn could see the back, where a long row of tiny black buttons ran from the collar down to the waist. "It's her gift to you. She thought you might be cold."
