Heirs of the Gods

Ch 62: The Buxom Nixie

When Briar had insisted on dragging Ella to her room after dinner with the intent of getting ready for the night, Ella had been sure it was a piss poor attempt to flee Val's presence.

Dinner had been wonderful. The hall had been decked in bright colours, the table laid with the finest silvers and the richest, most decadent meals. Carafes overflowed with the sweetest elvish wines and honeyed dwarvish liquours.

Wine flowed and conversation thrived. Zella had even gifted her with a lovely blessing, as well as an enchanted amethyst pendant made for her protection. Even Katram, who had spent the first half of the night fussing around despite their insistence that she sit and enjoy the meal, had found it in herself to relax. Callan had looked upon it, and Ella, with a proud, affectionate smile.

Despite the light mood, an odd, subtle tension hadn't gone unnoticed.

Specifically, between Briar and Valren. The two of them had made it a mission to ignore each other, which was a difficult feat, given the small number of guests. The normally bold and loud Val had been utterly quiet and Briar had even made it a point to sit as far away as possible.

The oddest part was that despite refusing to acknowledge each other whatsoever, all evening, they'd snuck sneaky glances whenever they thought no one was looking.

Ella had watched these interactions--or lack thereof--with growing amusement and confusion. She'd not been the only one to take note of this either.

At one point during the feast, Aedion had lightly nudged her foot and raised his brows infinitesimally. Such a minuscule gesture, it was almost imperceptible. Are you seeing what I'm seeing?

Ella's answering tilt of the chin was a flash, come and gone in seconds. You're not the only one, it said. It was a promise to discuss it later on.

,,,,,,,

Prodded, poked and brushed with all sorts of glittering powders and colours, Ella stared at her reflection with a dazed expression. The result of Briar's efforts was something out of a fever dream.

"Good grief. Are these supposed to be spilling out like this?"

Ella's voice tinged with slight panic as she stared at herself in front of the full-length mirror.

She leaned in closer, holding back an awed breath. Her lashes, previously whispy and pale, had been curled and coated with a sooty mix. Thick and stark black, they fringed her eyes, offsetting them into a shocking silver. Her lips, painted wine-red, parted in surprise.

Briar tittered, pressing a hand to her mouth. "Those are breasts, honey. And they look good!" 

Ella went a bit pink, as she tilted her chin to look down at herself once more. In true Briar fashion, her gift had been a gown. And not just any gown.

Dreamy, midnight blue, so dark it was almost black. A skirt made by layers and layers of delicate organza, fluttering and glistening around her every time she shifted. Off-the-shoulder balloon sleeves dripped off her form, exposing her neckline, collars bones and half her back. The tight-laced bodice clung to her like a second skin, its built-in corset pressing her breasts up into soft curves that peeked above the hem. 

"I wasn't aware they existed," Ella muttered, swaying her hips, marvelling at the way the dark fabric caught the light and glistened like dewy cobwebs.

Growing up, Ella had been what her mother kindly referred to as a late bloomer. When the other girls grew taller and curvier, she remained how she was. Short, scrawny, baby-faced. It was a fact some of the other girls liked to remind her about, whispering snarky retorts behind fluttering fans.