A Thousand Years of Stories
Disclaimer: I don't own Lost Odyssey. I'm not doing this for any monetary gain or personal advance beyond the improvement of my personal writing abilities.
Royal Wear
Numara Palace
The Free Oceanic State of Numara
The soon-to-be king of Numara stared at the pile of clothing he'd been given, trying very, very hard not to scream himself horse in protest of it. He gingerly picked up one part of the ensemble, and unfolded it: a navy blue v-shaped piece of cloth that left nothing at all to anybody's imagination and shuddered.
No.
No, no, no, no!
He wasn't wearing this. Any of it.
Absolutely not.
Never.
It was sick. And wrong. And no!
He'd rather have had general sourpuss's old outfit to wear. Even if Kakanas' pants had been blindingly white and looked like they had been painted on, then somehow made to fit more snuggly. It was still infinitely better than this.
He wouldn't do it. Nobody could make him.
"Jansen, are you alright?" A voice that he absolutely adored asked him from just outside the room.
Except, maybe, just maybe, that woman.
Stupid love! Stupid clothing! I'd never have to wear this kind of stuff back in Uhra with those girls! A part of him half-snarled, half-whimpered.
"Ming," He said instead, quietly but dubiously, "are you sure this is what I have to wear?"
"Is something the matter with it?" She returned, apparently genuinely curious.
"Well, it's a speedo, a half skirt, a vest and a cape."
There was a heavy pause.
"This isn't some kind of weird joke tradition is it?" Jansen asked, just to be sure.
"Certainly not," Ming replied.
There was another pause.
"Though, I don't recall having those sent to you," the immortal queen of Numara said at last.
Jansen stared at pile of clothing again, and felt a very nasty feeling stir inside his chest.
"Ming," He started, sounding quite calm he thought, "how many secret murders do Numaran royalty get?"
End