The following day, Ashlynn's face burned a brilliant shade of crimson that Nyrielle would have found adorable if she had been present to witness it. Her dress, the green satin and brocade one with the daring, plunging neckline that she wore to tempt Nyrielle into ravishing her, hung haphazardly across a high-backed chair halfway across the room where Nyrielle had thrown it to 'get the delicate treasure out of the way.'
Remarkably, the dress had survived with only a minor snag of a bit of lace that would need a bit of mending when it was laundered. Her bed, however, couldn't make nearly the same claim.
