Kyoshi 4

And speaking of dressing up, Jianzhu had given Kyoshi an outfit so far beyond her station that she’d almost broken out in hives when she saw it. She’d thought the pale green silk blouse and leggings would have been enough finery, but then the wardrobe attendants brought in two different pleated skirts, a shoulder-length wraparound jacket, and a wide sash with such exquisite stitching that it should have been mounted on a wall rather than tied around her waist.

The other servants had to help her into the clothing. She didn’t miss the looks they shared behind her back. That Kyoshi had abused the master’s favoritism—again.

But once the pieces were assembled, they melded to her body like she’d been born to wear them. Each layer slid over the next with ease, granting her full mobility. She didn’t ask anyone where the clothes that fit her so well came from, not wanting to hear a snippy answer like Oh, Jianzhu ripped them off the corpse of some fallen giant he defeated.

And the serious nature of the task ahead made itself clear as she finished dressing. The inside of the jacket was lined with finely woven chainmail. Not thick enough to stop a spearpoint with a person’s entire weight behind it, but strong enough to absorb a dart or the slash of a hidden knife. The weight of the metal links on her shoulders said to expect trouble.

-RoK, The Iceberg