In the Queendom of Veriditas, where magic flowed like groundwater and oaths were bound in sinew and silk, there was a law older than the throne itself: The Tithe of Skin . It was not a punishment, but a sacrament. All women, from the lowest chandler’s daughter to the Queen’s own blood, were required to be naked in the presence of any clothed man.
She had felt the blessing like a cold draft. But she had accepted it. cmnf fantasy
Men, by contrast, were wrapped head to toe in elaborate costumes: wool, velvet, chainmail, or stiff linen, depending on their station. To show a man’s bare ankle was a crime of indecent exposure. To see a woman’s collarbone was merely Tuesday. In the Queendom of Veriditas, where magic flowed
“Then arrest me,” she said, and walked past. She had felt the blessing like a cold draft
The reason, the priests of the Order of the Fold taught, was sacred. Women were vessels of raw, unshaped magic— anima fluens , the flowing soul. Men were vessels of structure— anima ligans , the binding soul. A woman’s bare skin allowed the world’s chaotic magic to pass through her without resistance, to be harvested by the clothed male mages, priests, and lords who stood nearby. A man’s clothing acted as a runic cage, concentrating his binding will. Thus, a clothed man and a naked woman formed a circuit: her openness, his containment. Together, they made civilization possible.
“Good. Honest. Now, what do you feel when you are alone in your room, naked, with no one watching?”