"This is so uncomfortable to wear. I really don't like this..."
Azriel grumbled as he kept fiddling with his clothes.
"Stop pulling on them! They'll come loose!"
"So?"
"So?" Jasmine shot him a look.
"You look good in them, and the maids went through all that effort to pick something that suited you and help you put it on. Besides, it's tradition in this kingdom to wear these at the festival."
"Why would I care about traditions and looking aesthetically pleasing to others when it comes at the cost of my last remaining shred of comfort?"
Even after hearing her reasoning, Azriel still wore a sour expression as they walked together toward the estate's exit.
The clothes in question were robes.
Silky robes.
Azriel was wrapped in deep crimson silk, the fabric flowing around him with every step. A half-mask covered the upper half of his face, crafted from a red, gem-like material that looked almost like polished rubies. The mask's shape was that of a fox.
