Oath of Betrayal (The Broken Bonds: Slavic Fantasy #1)

O nce I’d decided to show them the class and style of a crown mage, I found it was easier said than done.

Digging into my wardrobe, I realised that for the last ten years, I hadn’t purchased a single dress suitable for such a show. After taking a moment to rethink my choices, I opened the trunk holding the mementoes of my previous life, pulling out my old ceremonial battle mage uniform from its depths.

Looks like it’ll still fit.

The thought made me smile, and, with more enthusiasm, I put the dress on. It was a simple design, as—despite the decoration—it was tailored for fighting. The mossy green velvet was cut close to avoid catching on one’s surroundings—or a stray weapon—and the stiff collar was designed to ward off the teeth and claws of ghouls and creatures of the night. Even the gold braiding was there to deflect an attacker’s edged weapons.