23- Starry Nights and History Lessons

                                    

                                          
The rest of the week passed by in what almost felt like a blur. I still had my training with Kesserian as well as my mental lessons with Marlowe. As the days went by, my mental shield grew stronger and sturdier. By the day before the third trial I was able to successfully block Marlowe from entering my mind the entire lesson. My progress was met with a grin and a nod of approval from him.
                          
The same couldn't be said for Kess, seeing as I was now knocking him off of his feet more than before. For every five hits he managed to give I was able to retaliate with one good blow of my own, which shouldn't be considered nothing. I was fighting a king who had seen wars and had trained alongside legends. The fact that I could even knock him on his ass once should have earned me the praise of hundreds.
                          
Instead it just earned me an eye roll and a "lucky shot" muttered under his breath. But not even Kesserian could chalk my improvement up to luck. I was improving, both mentally and physically, and I was starting to finally feel like myself again. An improved version of me.
                          
Which was probably why I didn't immediately snarl at the article of clothing that awaited me later that day when I got back to my room.
                          
Lying across my bed rested a pair of solid black pants that shimmered in the light as if the material were made of scraps of stars. The top was a loose clothing that was cropped and made of the same shimmering black as the pants. The material traveled down the sleeve in two scraps of the material, intertwining at the end in a flowing manner that made it clear its purpose was not to hide my forearms from view as I often did.
                          
The overall image of the outfit was not lost on me. It was the starry night embedded into cloth.
                          
Atop the clothing laid a handwritten note. I didn't need to read it to know who the gift was from but I did anyways.
                          
In the hopes that this may scandalize the aristocrats a little more. Nothing more apalling than a woman in pants. 
                          
P.S. I do hope this gift finds its way to the ball and not your trash can.
                          
I couldn't help but grin at the note, the image of horror-struck rich nobles pleasing me enough to grab the beautiful material and head towards the bathroom.
                          
The knock on my door came minutes later but at the sound of the knob twisting and hinges squeaking at being tossed open before a permission to enter had passed my lips, I knew the visitor was Briar.
                          
At seeing me in the mirror's reflection, she let out a muttered "hot damn."
                          
I couldn't help but agree with her. The dark material was a spectacular contrast to my fair skin and, with my hair swept up into a messy low bun, all the attention was directed towards the shimmering fabric that couldn't help but appear as star-filled and as awestriking as the night sky itself.
                          
"It's all the outfit's doing" I admitted to her, stepping away from the mirror.
                          
Briar's gazed trailed over the outfit in marvel. "Yeah, but you've got to give some credit to the model. Sparkly fabric can only do so much" she pointed out, rubbing the material between two fingers.
                          
I playfully batted her hands away. "Come on. The sooner we get there the sooner we can leave" I spoke while linking our arms together.
                          
Briar cocked her head as we traveled through the halls. "I'm not quite sure that logic works in this scenario" she replied.
                          
"Have fun eating your words when I slip away after a record time of only fifteen minutes."
                          
She snorted. "If you're able to go unnoticed after fifteen minutes in that, I'll willingly volunteer myself to hand-feed Nox grapes for a week."