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Summary
It is finely crafted, almost absurdly so. The leather work is so detailed that Rhaenyra is half certain Mysaria asked the keepers to fashion it- though that thought makes her cheeks burn red the moment it crosses her mind. The stitching is precise, like that of a dragon saddle, but the buckles are similar to those one might find on the straps of finer riding clothes.
"Am I..." she blushes, half choking on her words when Mysaria presses a kiss to the bend of her jaw. Rhaenyra clears her throat, still speaking shakily when Mysaria begins to trail her kisses down the side of her neck. "A-Am I meant to wear it?"
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Mysaria gives Rhaenyra a present <3