I step out of the room, and there she is—already waiting for me, dressed in something new. OOF. How do I even explain this?
What is that outfit? It looks like someone stitched together a noble's wedding dress, a knight's armor, and ten thousand spiderwebs, then stood back and said, "Yes. This will melt the minds of peasants."
Black silk drapes over her like flowing shadows, white lace exploding across her chest as if it's trying to declare war on the world. Stockings so smooth they probably cost more than my entire village hug her legs, and in her hand she carries a parasol—not for shade, but like the royal banner of doom.
She's… so hot in this. Oh boy. I think I'm losing my mind for Death. Someone, please, slap me back into reality.
