They were gorgeous, even as they sneered and giggled and pointed at Rose and Sybille. Unblemished faces, perfectly coiffed hair, and the most fashionable clothes. The men had trimmed goatees, starched linen ruffs, and wide shoulders that tapered sexily to narrow hips. The women’s painted eyes and lips were framed by long hair banded by strips of jewels. Their gowns—so different than the old-fashioned ones of Gordonsrod—had low, square-cut necklines and a framework that pushed out the dress around the buttocks, emphasizing their figures.
It was everything that Sybille had always wanted. But not like this. Humiliation drove into her like a punch as the stuff of her dreams reconfigured into her worst nightmare.
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