The self-proclaimed “Ivory King" was prepared to let me dress. He handed the bundle through the bars. It wasn't the same clothing I had arrived in.
“Well don't look," I said, still crouched on the floor, back-to-back with Rowan.
The Ivory Madmen diverted their gazes.
I handed Rowan the skoolie key. His eyes widened, but he said nothing. He glanced about himself, as if unsure what to do with it, before ultimately sitting on it.
I put on the clothes, now dressed in a long flowing satin gown of white-and-creme with gold detailing. Warm-neutral beads were sewn along the hem of the skirt in rose patterns, giving it a weight that was fun to swoosh around in.
Our captors led me up the stairs, most of them holding back to allow their king and I some privacy.
“Forgive our brutish behavior,"
