The locks disengaged with a muted click.
Rafael lifted the lid and for a moment, he simply looked inside.
The suit was black and structured through the shoulders and torso, the fabric fell in long lines that covered everything and was fashionable. It was unmistakably omega-cut, narrow at the waist, but reinforced beneath the elegance, seams threaded with ether-binding that would hold under impact as easily as under scrutiny while shining silver in any light.
He reached out and brushed two fingers along the sleeve. The material was cool, dense, and expensive in a way that was definitely Gregoris's style.
"Of course," Rafael murmured. "Armor."
He lifted the suit from its cradle and held it up, assessing proportions out of habit. It would fit. Gregoris did not guess at measurements.
Beside the main suitcase, nestled in a separate box, lay the jewelry.
