Robes > High Priestess Robes

Stephanie blinked as the warmth of the fire kissed her skin. Her moment of comfort was fleeting.

She gasped.

Her robes shifted against her skin. The warmth around her deepened, intensified like a flush of heat under her cheeks, and when she looked down—

"Oh come on!"

Gone were the thick layers. In their place, the so-called High Priestess robes clung and draped over her like the suggestion of clothing. Two elegant strands of soft fabric crossed over her breasts, triangular and narrow, baring the line of her sternum all the way down to her stomach.

The lower half wasn’t much better. The once modest robe was now little more than a split curtain of silky cloth, each side revealing her long legs, hips, and the tantalizing promise of what the central drape barely covered. There were no undergarments. No sandals. Just bare skin and implication.

"It was the prompt," I said gently. "Robes became 'High Priestess Robes.' It also added some jewelry."

Her hand shot to her chest, holding the thin fabric in place. "What kind of priestess wears this?"

She felt the weight of a large ruby earring swing gently against her right ear. A heavy, ornate necklace now rested against her collarbone, ancient and regal. Her hair, moments ago a tangled mess, was now styled into soft, glossy waves. A rose had been tucked just above her left ear, nestled in her curls.

She stood up, trying to cover herself with one arm across her chest and the other holding the low-hanging drape between her legs.

"Great. Just great. I finally get warm and you go and turn me into a softcore fantasy icon."

"It wasn’t me," I reminded her. "It was the readers. Someone changed the prompt."

She gave a dry laugh. "Of course they did. I’m just their paper doll, right? Strip me down, dress me up, parade me around like their little—"

She stopped, exhaled, and dropped into the nearest chair with a dramatic sigh.

"I’m sorry. I just... I wanted a moment. I thought I had one."

"You did. You still do, sort of."

She sat in silence for a moment, then looked down at her bare feet. The firelight danced across her toes.

"I want to go home," she said softly.

"You can."

"Really?"

"Sure. You just have to walk back down the mountain."

She gave me a flat look. Then glanced at her outfit again.

"In this? Barefoot?"

"You could ask for shoes."

She looked toward the book on the side table. The open page glowed faintly.

"Okay. Whoever’s out there... you got your little fun. Your high priestess pin-up moment. Can I please get some sensible footwear now? I want to go home without slicing my feet open on every rock down the path."

She sighed again and stood, pacing a little before settling back near the fire.

She crossed her legs and pulled the draped curtain of her skirt modestly over her lap. The robe shifted slightly as she moved, constantly forcing her to adjust it to avoid giving the flames—or the readers—more of a show.

"Is the chapter over now?" she asked hopefully.

"I don’t think so."

"Why not?"

"Because, again, you haven’t done anything."

Stephanie groaned. "I asked for shoes! That counts as doing something."

"Not really. Chapters don’t end with asking. They end with doing."

She stood again, eyes narrowing.

She shifted uncomfortably in her barely-there High Priestess robes. The silky drapes of fabric did little to warm her.

"Okay... think," she muttered aloud, wrapping her arms around herself, pacing slowly across the hearthstone floor. Her bare feet padded softly against the ancient, polished stone. "What counts as doing something?"

"Chapters are about progress," I offered from the book. "Tension, decisions, action, change. Something has to happen."

"I have changed," she grumbled. "In fact, I’ve changed outfits three times now."

"You didn’t change. The prompt did that for you."

She turned sharply, glaring at the book on the table. The image on the open page still showed her sitting in her High Priestess robes, a dramatic swirl of firelight behind her, hair perfect, posture regal.

She sighed and turned back to the fire, hugging herself tighter.

"Fine. If nothing’s happening, maybe I make something happen."

She paced a little faster now, each step punctuated by the flick of her hair or the sway of her minimal robes. She stopped suddenly.

"I could go back down the mountain," she muttered. "That’s movement. That’s action. But... gods, I’m not doing it barefoot."

Her eyes flicked toward the book again.

"Come on, people," she called to the unseen audience. "Shoes. Something warm. I swear I won’t complain if you just give me boots."

Nothing happened.

She slumped slightly. "Figures."

She sat back down by the fire, pulling her knees close to her chest, carefully arranging the draping fabric to maintain what modesty she still had. A lock of her styled hair fell in front of her face, and she pushed it back behind her ear with a delicate motion.

"Still nothing," I said. "The chapter's holding. It's waiting for more."

"Like what? Want me to slay a dragon in this outfit? Perform a ritual?" She rolled her eyes. "There’s only so much I can do in nipple napkins and a skirt flap."

"Wait." I typed. "Ritual? You can do that?"

"Yeah." She sighed. "I read a lot about them in the week you were away."

"What kind of ritual?" I asked.

"Any kind really. Rituals to change the weather, summon spirits, make people stronger or weaker. The only rule is the person casting the ritual can't be affected by it."

"So... what? You're immune to rain? I asked, confused.

"No, like I can't make myself stronger, smarter, faster or anything."

"Oh, I see. Well... performing a ritual is a good way to end a chapter."

She sighed again. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

And just like that, time froze again.

"What?" Stephanie asked. "Why now?"

"I guess because you made up your mind, and the book wants to dedicated a whole chapter to the ritual." I replied. "Now's your chance. Ask."

"Hey, readers." She said, trying to sound sincere. "I really appreciate all the help. But some walking boots or real clothes would be such a massive help. Please, if you could be so kind I would really appreciate it."

(Ginger, white, very curly messy hair, small breasts, tall, smart, magical glasses, hihh priestess robes, rebellious, rested, basking by the fireplace, fur coat)