"My Ruler," Pagomaris beamed a smile at me as she bowed while her minions dressed me the next morning. "Your caravan awaits you for departure."
"About damned time," I muttered, shooing off the three maiden demons who fussed over the hem of my heavy skirt. It clacked with irritating abruptness as the large panels of thick plastic they'd sewn into the seam swung and clanked against each other.
I glared at my aide who appeared instantly distressed.
"You don't like it," she said.
If anyone was ever closer to being yelled at... my temper had worn to a frayed edge and she was a convenient target. Only the sad look on her face kept me from screeching my irritation at Pagomaris for dressing me in the most inappropriate travel outfit I'd ever seen - or had the misfortune to wear, for that matte
