You wrap your arms around yourself, one hand spread across your bare collarbones, the other hugging your waist. Your chemise is so soft beneath your fingertips that it feels like nothing but air. Your attendants have gone, and you’ve never felt so exposed. Sudsy bathwater feels more like clothing than this drape of ivory fabric, free of adornment save for the embroidery hugging your chest. Cap sleeves barely cover your sh...