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Then the tiniest shuffle.

Then slowly, he steps out.

Oh, stars.

He’s wearing what must have once been a servant’s uniform from the Above, though the fabric is faded and far too fine to have ever seen a mop. The skirt hits his upper thigh, and the bodice is tight enough to earn a whistle. A high, ruffled collar covers his throat, and there’s a ribbon tied in a neat little bow right at the center. The sleeves are sheer and bell-shaped at the wrists, and his legs⁠—

Stars Above. His legs.

He looks mortified. He also looks absolutely adorable.

I prop myself up on one elbow, a grin spreading across my face. “You know,” I say, “I think I chose very wisely for this.”

Cas glares daggers, cheeks-tinged pink. “I hate you.”

“You look so cute when you say that,” I drawl.

He doesn’t answer.

But he doesn’t take it off either. Which, frankly, is a victory for me.

And stars help me, I plan to enjoy every second. But I can’t do that alone.

“Alright,” I call, still lounging on the bed like I own the place. “You all can enter.”

The door creaks open, and in come Rosalina, Ezryn, Farron, and Keldarion, totally unprepared for the vision of Caspian in his new attire.

“Oh my god,” Rosie breathes, eyes going wide, lips curling into a delighted grin. “Cas, you look so cute!”

Caspian flushes full crimson, like someone tossed him in the Summer sun for an entire day.

“This is a girl’s outfit,” he snaps, tugging uselessly at the hem of the skirt, which does nothing to hide his long, perfect legs.

Ezryn cocks his head, arms crossed. “I don’t think so,” he says. “This wasn’t the only servant’s outfit we found, and based on the murals in the west corridor, both male and female staff wore this style.”

Caspian turns slowly, narrowing his eyes at Ezryn. “Then why is it so fluffy?” He flicks at the sheer bell sleeve.

“Because,” I cut in, barely holding back a laugh, “the Above had taste. And clearly, so do I.”

Rosalina giggles. Keldarion looks like he’s trying hard not to smile. Farron is already biting his knuckle to muffle the laugh.

Cas glares at all of us, but the way his hands hover near the skirt—like he’s not quite sure whether to adjust it or rip it off—makes it clear: he knows he looks good in anything.

And he’s furious about it.

Which, of course, is the best part.

Keldarion gives a low grumble, then plants himself, legs spread, on a chair beside the bed. “Give it a chance, Cas. I like it.”

Caspian runs a hand through his hair, long enough to graze past his shoulders, all while maintaining his glare. “You like this?”

“Maybe,” Keldarion says, “but you need to get closer for me to fully tell.”

Caspian shuffles over to Kel, but the skirt is so short it gives a view of his upper thigh. As soon as he’s within reach, Keldarion grips Caspian by the waist and tugs him onto his lap, where Caspian lands with a soft gasp.

I feel myself grow hard watching them and adjust my position in the bed. Yes, this was a great choice for my reward. A great choice indeed.

Our last night in the Above is about to get very interesting.