Page 173 of The King's Man
59.New Armor
~ DIADRE ~
I stared at myself in the mirror, despising what I saw. If only I’d been given this outfit in a different circumstance… but I wasn’t. This was the armor of this assignment. My weapon for this world. I had to remind myself of that—but not think on it too deeply. Because thoughts of looking likethisinthiscity chilled my blood.
Jann had tasked Caelan with dressing meappropriately.And the woman had done her work. I turned my head and touched the three-strand silver choker at my throat. A leather strap cupped the back of my neck, with the topmost strand of the silver chain flush with my skin, keeping it comfortably in place, then two more strands falling in longer loops below it.
A matching black leather bodice kept my breasts pressed round and high to frame the longest chain with its single, perfectly circular ring-medallion that rested above my cleavage. From the base of the bodice lustrous silk panels in a cold bluethat was almost silver fell to my calves. But the panels were strapped firmly at ribs, waist, and below my hips, keeping the silk hugging my curves. More chains draped from my hips, mirroring the three at my throat, though the longest of the three was weighted by an odd silver hook, rather than a ring. Leather sandals with straps wrapping my legs to the calf, completed the ensemble, and taken from the front, it was suggestive, even provocative. But I was covered. Until I turned and it was revealed that the panels weren’t wide enough to wrap me, so a stretch of skin several inches wide was left bare from my ribs, all the way to my feet. No underthings—there was no room.
When I walked, the front panel fluttered between my legs, covering anything obscene, but only emphasizing the naked skin left at my sides and legs.
It was the most immodest thing I’d ever worn, and it would be my uniform before the Nephilim.
Blowing out a breath, I met Jann’s eyes in the mirror. He stood behind me, staring, and as torn within as I was.
He hungered for me. I felt that in the bond.
And he was afraid.
Andfiercelyprotective. Possessive.
A feral rage bubbled in him seeing me dressed like this. I felt the tension he carried as he anticipated my presence under the eyes of other Neph…
I touched the chain choker, stroking it. I had called the metal silver, but it was incredibly fine and seemed lighter than the silverwork our finest jewelers created in Theynor. When I pinched the longest chain and ran it between my fingers, Jann cleared his throat.
“Be careful with that.”
I turned to face him, frowning. “Why? Is it valuable?”
He huffed, then hooked one calloused finger in that silver circle on the lowest chain, pulling it—to my shock, the chainpulled through its links at the leather and suddenly the other two chains tightened at my throat and I stumbled a step closer to him. He caught me, a low rumble in his chest as he released the chain and it went slack again.
I blinked as Jann readjusted it so the three chains were returned to their pretty, cascading necklaces, his face grim.
He looked like he was about to speak when Caelan piped up from behind him.
“She needs your seal.”
Jann nodded, his eyes locking with mine before his voice rose in my head.‘This is a tool to a fiend, but between us it will only ever be for show.’
I nodded and swallowed, the light pressure of the shortest chain suddenly no longer seeming so benign.
Caelan hurried to a set of drawers at the side of the room.
Jann’s room, which she clearly knew intimately—
I pushed the thought away.
Jann never took his eyes from me until Caelan trotted back to his side and opened her hand to reveal a wide medallion, almost as large as her palm, rimmed in flat silver with strange symbols carved intricately around it, and an amber stone at its center, etched with jagged wings.
Jann showed it to me and I frowned. “What is it?”
“The seal of my house and bloodline,” he said darkly, then reached for that hook on the lowest of the chains draping from my hips, and clipped the medallion to it. The weight was significant, tightening the leather strap that looped my lower back and held the chains, dragging them down so that the medallion rested at the apex of my thighs.
Jann stroked it once and rumbled again.
The roiling in him was hard to define, too many conflicting emotions.
“What do the symbols mean?” I asked him quietly.
