Chapter 34: Who Let the Lord Commander Dress Like a Princess?

I opened my eyes to sunlight crawling across the ceiling.

Morning.

Again.

This kingdom had an unhealthy commitment to mornings.

I lay there for several seconds, staring upward while my brain attempted to negotiate with consciousness.

No battle.

No council.

No invisible army.

No screaming noble being dragged into a portal.

Just my room.

Quiet.

Peaceful.

Wonderful.

Then someone knocked.

Of course.

Three firm knocks.

Not servant knocks.

Not nervous messenger knocks.

Confident knocks.

The kind of knocking that already knew I was inside and had no intention of accepting death as an excuse.

I closed my eyes.

“Maybe if I don’t move, the problem will evolve somewhere else.”

Another knock.

Apparently not.

I threw the blanket aside and stood.

I had slept without a shirt because clothing and beds were natural enemies.

My pants from the night before were somewhere near the chair.

I ignored them and walked toward the door in what I considered acceptable morning attire.

Which was approximately half an outfit.

I opened it.

Then forgot what sarcastic comment I had prepared.

Nemris stood outside.

Nemris.

At least, I was reasonably certain it was Nemris.

Same golden hair.

Same lion ears.

Same face.

Same eyes that could convince trained soldiers to reconsider bad decisions.

Everything else?

Suspicious.

She was wearing a blue dress.

A dress.

Not armor disguised as fashion.

Not a ceremonial breastplate with slightly nicer engraving.

An actual dress.

The material was soft, elegant, fitted carefully around her body before flowing lower in graceful folds. Delicate golden embroidery followed the edges of the sleeves and neckline, subtle enough not to turn her into a walking royal banner.

Her hair had been styled too.

Most of it was gathered elegantly behind her head, leaving several golden strands loose around her face.

Small decorative pins caught the morning light.

She wore matching blue shoes with low heels and several pieces of understated jewelry.

A fine necklace.

Small earrings.

A thin bracelet.

Nothing excessive.

Just enough to make her look polished in a completely different way from the Nemris I knew.

And the dress fit her extremely well.

Very well.

Criminally well.

I had seen Nemris in armor so many times that my brain had apparently filed her body under Classified Military Information.

Without metal plates hiding everything, certain details became significantly harder to ignore.

Her chest was fuller than I had realized.

The dress did absolutely nothing to hide that fact.

Quite the opposite.

The neckline framed her figure elegantly without becoming indecent, but there was enough there to make my eyes briefly develop career ambitions.

I looked back at her face.

Nemris was smiling.

Elegantly.

Almost.

The smile looked practiced.

Not fake.

Just unfamiliar.

Like she had been told princesses were supposed to smile a certain way and had personally decided to defeat the technique through discipline.

Her posture was straight.

Hands folded neatly.

Everything looked perfect.

Except for the tiny stiffness in her shoulders.

She was uncomfortable.

Not miserable.

Just very aware that she was wearing something she almost never wore.

I leaned against the doorframe.

“Is it my birthday?”

Her elegant smile cracked slightly.

“What?”

“I’m trying to understand what event caused this.”

Her eyes narrowed.

Better.

There she was.

“I thought we had an arrangement.”

I blinked.

Then remembered.

Oh.

The date.

Right.

The date.

Nemris in a dress.

Nemris waiting at my bedroom door.

Nemris actually following through.

My morning had improved with suspicious speed.

“Oh.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

“The date.”

Her expression flattened.

“Yes.”

I smiled.

“You decided we’re doing it today?”

Her eyes narrowed further.

Danger.

I immediately lifted both hands.

“I mean, excellent timing. Fantastic timing. Possibly the greatest scheduling decision in recorded history.”

Nemris stared.

I grinned.

“I’d love to go today.”

“That sounded considerably different three seconds ago.”

“My mouth needed time to catch up with my gratitude.”

“Your mouth seems to cause most of your problems.”

“Also most of my successes.”

She sighed.

I pushed away from the doorway.

“Give me a few minutes to prepare.”

Nemris nodded.

I stepped back.

Then she hesitated.

Actually hesitated.

That caught my attention more than the dress had.

Almost.

“Can I come inside?”

I stopped.

Nemris looked past me into the room.

“While I wait.”

The explanation came quickly.

Too quickly.

I smirked.

Her eyes snapped toward mine.

“Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were about to.”

“Unprovable.”

Her glare sharpened.

I stepped aside.

“Come in.”

Nemris entered.

Slowly.

Not because she was nervous about the room itself.

She had probably been inside royal guest chambers hundreds of times.

But this was my room.

That somehow made it different.

She looked around.

The bed.

The table.

The chair holding discarded clothing.

The balcony.

My general contribution to royal interior design, which mostly consisted of moving things away from wherever servants had originally placed them.

I closed the door.

Nemris turned.

Her blue dress moved softly around her legs.

I looked at her again.

Still strange.

Still attractive.

Still very much Nemris.

Just without enough metal to survive artillery.

“I honestly never expected to see you wearing something like that.”

She looked down at herself.

“Is that bad?”

“No.”

“Then why do you sound surprised?”

“Because I’ve seen you voluntarily wear armor during a ballroom celebration.”

“That armor was designed for formal occasions.”

“It was still armor.”

Nemris looked mildly offended.

“It was elegant.”

“It was extremely elegant.”

I gestured toward the dress.

“This is different.”

She studied my face.

Then, unexpectedly, she turned in place.

Slowly.

One complete spin.

The skirt moved around her legs in a soft circle before settling again.

I stared.

Nemris stopped facing me.

“What do you think?”

Okay.

That was unfair.

She actually wanted my opinion.

Not the Lord Commander asking whether equipment was acceptable.

A woman asking how she looked before a date.

I smiled.

Nemris continued.

“My mother buys dresses like this constantly.”

“I’m beginning to appreciate Queen Milfy’s hobbies.”

Nemris gave me a warning look.

“She keeps insisting I should wear them.”

“But you don’t.”

“Almost never.”

“I noticed.”

She looked down again.

“This one has been sitting in my wardrobe for quite some time.”

Her fingers lightly touched the side of the skirt.

“I was surprised it still fit.”

My eyes traveled over her once.

Slow enough to be obvious.

Nemris noticed.

I saw the slight tightening around her eyes.

I looked back at her face.

“It fits.”

“That wasn’t exactly what I asked.”

“You asked what I think.”

I stepped closer.

“You look beautiful.”

Nemris became still.

There.

No joke.

No exaggerated compliment.

Just the truth.

Her eyes stayed on mine for a second.

Then she slowly nodded.

“Good.”

That answer was extremely Nemris.

No shy thank you.

No dramatic reaction.

Just confirmation that the mission had succeeded.

But her cheeks gained the faintest warmth.

Worth it.

I turned toward the bathroom area.

“Now I should probably become presentable enough to stand beside you.”

“That would be preferable.”

I reached for a towel.

Then felt movement behind me.

Nemris had stepped closer.

Very close.

Her presence changed.

Not dramatically.

Just enough for me to notice.

Then one finger touched my back.

I stopped.

Her fingertip traced lightly along part of the wing-shaped marking there.

The Spriggan marking.

Ah.

That.

Her touch was careful.

Not flirtatious.

Examining.

I could hear the difference in her breathing too.

The atmosphere had shifted.

Nemris spoke quietly.

“Is this truly real?”

There was meaning in the question.

A lot of it.

I looked over my shoulder.

Her finger remained near the marking.

Her expression was calm.

Mostly.

But suspicion lived beneath it.

Not accusation.

Not certainty.

Just something that had been bothering her.

Maybe since the battlefield.

Maybe longer.

I turned fully toward her.

“It’s as real as it gets.”

Nemris studied me.

Her eyes moved from my face to the marking.

Then back.

No visible reaction.

But I saw it.

A tiny calculation.

A question she had not decided to ask.

Maybe she was remembering the strange combination of skills I had shown.

Maybe Rel’s conversation about humans had planted something uncomfortable in her mind.

Maybe she had simply started noticing that I made a terrible normal Spriggan.

All valid concerns.

None I intended to volunteer answers to while standing half naked before breakfast.

I met her gaze.

Nemris held it.

For one second, the suspicion became clear.

Then it disappeared.

No.

Not disappeared.

Hidden.

Important difference.

She was good at hiding things.

I smiled faintly.

“You look like you’re trying to solve me.”

Nemris removed her hand.

“You’re difficult to understand.”

“I’ve been told.”

“That wasn’t praise.”

“I collect those anyway.”

Her expression softened.

The moment passed.

Mostly.

I entered the bathroom.

Warm water helped.

A lot.

I washed quickly, letting steam fill the room while my brain revisited Nemris’s question.

Is this truly real?

Interesting.

Very interesting.

I finished bathing.

Dried off.

Then walked back into the room wearing only pants.

Nemris was standing near the wardrobe.

She looked toward me.

Then down at the pants.

Then back toward the wardrobe.

No comment about the topless part.

Progress.

Or desensitization.

Hard to tell.

She opened the wardrobe wider.

I leaned against the wall.

“What are you doing?”

“Finding something that matches.”

“My pants?”

“Yes.”

“I was going to choose a shirt.”

“I know.”

The lack of confidence in that answer offended me.

“You don’t trust my fashion judgment?”

“No.”

Immediate.

Brutal.

I placed a hand over my chest.

“That hurt.”

“You survived Remgar.”

“Physical wounds heal.”

Nemris ignored me.

She moved through several shirts and coats.

Blue?

Rejected.

Too formal?

Rejected.

Too casual?

Apparently offensive.

She inspected one dark jacket, held it against me from a distance, then put it back.

Fashion was definitely her thing.

Not that she used it on herself often.

But she knew what she was doing.

Eventually she chose a fitted shirt and a lighter formal coat that matched the darker tone of my pants.

She held them toward me.

“These.”

I accepted them.

“You sound very certain.”

“I am.”

“Hot.”

Nemris stared.

“Dress.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I put the shirt on.

Before I could button it properly, Nemris stepped closer.

She caught the fabric near my chest.

“I’ll do it.”

I raised both hands.

“Oh.”

She began fastening the buttons.

One.

Then another.

Her fingers moved carefully.

She was close enough that I could smell her perfume.

Something subtle.

Floral, but not too sweet.

Another new detail.

I looked down at her.

She focused on the buttons.

I smiled.

“I’m not used to this new behavior.”

Nemris paused.

Her fingers remained against my shirt.

“Do you dislike it?”

I blinked.

Her voice was softer.

Serious.

I immediately shook my head.

“That is absolutely not what I said.”

She looked up.

Our faces were closer than either of us had acknowledged.

“Good.”

She finished the last button.

Then reached for my collar.

She adjusted it.

Straightened one side.

Then the other.

Her eyes remained on me.

I smiled.

Nemris narrowed hers.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re looking at me strangely.”

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

She continued fixing the collar.

Then spoke quietly.

“The eyes of a charming liar.”

I laughed.

Not because it was funny.

Okay, partly because it was.

But mostly because of the way she said it.

Affectionate.

Teasing.

Nemris teasing me.

This date had not even started and civilization was already collapsing.

“I prefer charming truth-teller.”

“That would be inaccurate.”

“I’m wounded again.”

“You recover quickly.”

She stepped back.

Looked me over.

Then nodded.

“Acceptable.”

“Acceptable?”

“You look good.”

“Much better.”

I put on my shoes.

Nemris waited near the door.

When I finished, she opened it.

“Let’s go.”

I joined her.

The castle corridor outside was already active.

Servants moved between rooms.

Knights changed shifts.

Officials carried papers toward whatever administrative hole consumed documents in this kingdom.

Nemris started walking.

I followed beside her.

“So.”

She glanced at me.

“I hope you actually planned something.”

“I did.”

“Good.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t.”

Nemris looked toward me.

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“What were you going to do if I hadn’t planned anything?”

“Wing it.”

She frowned.

“You use that phrase far too often.”

“Improvisation is a respected art.”

“It is not planning.”

“Exactly. Less paperwork.”

Nemris shook her head.

“I already have several places in mind.”

I smiled.

“The Lord Commander really is prepared for everything.”

She stopped walking.

I stopped too.

Nemris looked at me.

Then glanced at herself.

The dress.

No armor.

No insignia.

No sword.

Interesting.

“NEMRIS,” she said.

I blinked.

“What?”

“Call me Nemris.”

I smiled slightly.

“Already do.”

“Not like that.”

Her eyes lowered for a second.

“I don’t have my armor with me.”

She touched the side of her dress.

“No insignia.”

Then she looked back at me.

“Today, I don’t want to be the Lord Commander.”

That was more vulnerable than she probably realized.

Or maybe she realized completely.

“I’m not here in that role.”

A small breath.

“Right now…”

She hesitated.

“I’m a princess.”

I raised an eyebrow.

She narrowed her eyes preemptively.

I restrained the joke.

Heroic effort.

Nemris continued.

“So…”

Her voice became quieter.

“Treat me like one.”

For once, I did not tease her.

“I will.”

Something relaxed in her expression.

We kept walking.

The reactions began almost immediately.

A servant carrying folded linens passed us.

She bowed automatically.

Then straightened.

Looked at Nemris.

Stopped.

Looked again.

Double take.

Beautiful.

A pair of royal knights came around the corner.

Both saluted.

Then one of them visibly hesitated.

His eyes moved toward Nemris.

Away.

Back.

His expression said:

Is that actually the Lord Commander?

I almost laughed.

Nemris noticed too.

Her posture became slightly stiffer.

“Don’t.”

“I haven’t said anything.”

“You’re smiling.”

“I’m enjoying the cultural event.”

“What cultural event?”

“Everyone discovering you own dresses.”

Nemris sighed.

We descended another corridor.

More servants.

More knights.

More double takes.

One elderly servant smiled warmly at Nemris.

Nemris actually looked more uncomfortable with that than she did with enemy generals.

Fascinating.

By the time we reached the main entrance, I had counted at least twelve people who needed visual confirmation.

We stepped outside.

Morning sunlight covered the castle grounds.

The capital beyond the gates was already alive.

Wagons moved along the roads.

Merchants opened stalls.

People flowed between districts.

The smell of bread, cooked meat, spice, and city air drifted toward us.

For once, no royal escort gathered around Nemris.

No formation of knights.

No command staff.

No golden armor announcing her position from two streets away.

Just Nemris.

Princess Nemris.

That still felt strange.

Good strange.

We passed through the castle gate and entered the city proper.

I looked toward her.

“So, Nemris.”

She glanced at me.

“What’s first?”

She actually thought about it.

Not long.

But enough to make me curious.

“I thought we should get something sweet.”

I smiled.

“For breakfast?”

“Yes.”

“I already love this date.”

Nemris frowned slightly.

“You haven’t even eaten anything yet.”

“Exactly. The potential is enormous.”

She shook her head.

“Something sweet will give us energy while we walk.”

“Excellent strategy.”

“That is not why I chose it.”

“Doesn’t matter. I support sugar-based tactical planning.”

Nemris almost smiled.

Then she extended her hand.

I stopped walking.

Looked at it.

Then looked at her.

Her cheeks were pink.

Not dramatically.

Just enough.

Her fingers remained extended between us.

She was clearly embarrassed.

But she did not withdraw.

Powerful warrior.

Lord Commander.

Woman who could stand alone against armies.

Currently fighting for her life against hand-holding.

And somehow the hand-holding was winning.

I smiled.

Nemris narrowed her eyes.

“Don’t.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You’re thinking something.”

“Several things.”

“Caled.”

I took her hand.

Her fingers closed around mine.

Warm.

Slightly tense.

I gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

“Lead the way.”

Nemris looked ahead.

But the faint blush remained.

We started walking.

Hand in hand.

The capital reacted.

Immediately.

People recognized Nemris.

Of course they did.

She was a princess.

Lord Commander.

One of the most powerful people in the kingdom.

But recognition took longer today.

A merchant looked at us.

Looked away.

Then his head snapped back.

A woman carrying a basket slowed down.

Two younger knights standing beside a storefront stared openly until one elbowed the other.

An old man squinted.

Then bowed once he confirmed his eyes had not betrayed him.

Nemris noticed every single one.

I could feel it through the way her fingers occasionally tightened around mine.

She was used to attention.

But not this kind.

People normally saw the armor first.

The authority.

The title.

Today they saw the woman.

A beautiful Lionkin princess walking through the city in blue, holding hands with a man everyone had recently started hearing about.

That was apparently much more interesting.

Nemris looked ahead like pretending not to notice would solve it.

It did not.

Another pair of women passed us.

Both looked at Nemris.

Then at me.

Then at our hands.

Then back at Nemris.

One whispered something.

Nemris’s ears twitched.

I smiled.

She glanced toward me.

“You’re enjoying this.”

“Immensely.”

“That is cruel.”

“Not cruel.”

I looked at her.

“Educational.”

“For whom?”

“Me.”

She sighed.

We kept walking.

More people recognized her.

More double takes.

More surprised expressions.

Some smiles.

Some whispers.

One man almost walked into a fruit stand because he turned his head too far.

I respected the commitment.

Nemris clearly did not know what to do with all the attention.

But me?

I was enjoying every second of everyone staring at her.