Runa smoothed the skirt of her green dress nervously. It was slit up to her hip to allow her movement to be unimpeded. Beneath it, she wore stockings of black. She sat on the edge of the bed, crossing her legs.

“I don’t understand what was wrong with my armor, Ran.” She huffed.

Narran chuckled as he walked toward her, a small bejeweled box in his hands. “Your armor is very nice, darling.” He sat beside her. “But you heard what my mother ...