“How do I free the others?” Elara asked.
Elara’s hands trembled as she took it. The fabric felt like sin against her bare skin. She pulled it over her head. The sensation of covering—of hiding —was so foreign it made her dizzy. cmnf fantasy
Men, by contrast, were wrapped head to toe in elaborate costumes: wool, velvet, chainmail, or stiff linen, depending on their station. To show a man’s bare ankle was a crime of indecent exposure. To see a woman’s collarbone was merely Tuesday. “How do I free the others
In the Queendom of Veriditas, where magic flowed like groundwater and oaths were bound in sinew and silk, there was a law older than the throne itself: The Tithe of Skin . It was not a punishment, but a sacrament. All women, from the lowest chandler’s daughter to the Queen’s own blood, were required to be naked in the presence of any clothed man. She pulled it over her head
At sixteen, she was sent to the capital, Verid Lux, to serve as a font —a living magical battery—for the Royal Collegium of Arcanists. She was assigned to Master Kellus, a gaunt man with spectacles and a kind, tired face. He wore a high-collared robe of midnight blue, stitched with silver threads that mapped constellations. Elara stood before him in his tower study, naked as a peeled apple, shivering despite the hearth.