Chapter 35
I spent the rainy afternoon at the Tailors’ quarters trying on a few different robes. Silas had promised that I would be invited to the family dinner but that I needed more than one robe since mine grew filthier by the day.
I had, up to then, been borrowing robes. Even the navy Historian robe didn’t hang right on my frame, though I thought all robes were “one-size fits all.” Apparently, I was wrong.
The group of sewists flitted back and forth around the organized room, the very first room in all of Arcadia that had a real roof. It consisted of branches stripped of their leaves, layered together, darkening the room. Lanterns hung on the posts, the entire place seeming like a seamstress took residence in someone’s backyard pergola or gazebo.
There were posts on all four corners with branches acting like hangers for different colors of fabric. And there were lots of colors.
I listed the colors in my head, along with the Branch it represented.
Navy for Historians.
Light green for the young and learning.
Silver for royalty.
Violet for Seers.
Light blue for Guardians and Hunters.
Evergreen for Healers.
Rusty copper for the Cooks.
Mustard for the Tailors.
Beige for the ones without a Branch.
Then there were colors I had seen but didn’t know their function. There were other shades of green and brown, as well as reds and pale purple and black, even a small bit of oranges and pinks.
The Tailors that worked with me now had picked three different colors: navy, white, and silver.
“Turn.” The Tailor at my feet twirled her finger. The man next to her held out a handful of needles and pins.
“Please don’t take this the wrong way,” I started, shuffling around to face the opposite direction. “If you all don’t really mingle with humans, how do you come across some of the stuff you have? Like paper and needles.”
The woman scoffed. “Just because we don’t mingle doesn’t mean we don’t ever go around humans. We try not to. Obviously, we stand out a bit. But…”
The man spoke up. “We send a group into town from time to time for a resupply. It’s different now that we have certain commodities. Before, in ancient times, we acted more like wolves and less like humans.”
“So I know the navy is for the Historians.” I motioned down at the blue fabric hung over a branch. “And the silver is for members of the royal family. But what is the white for?” I gazed down at the robe they were fitting me for.
The two Tailors exchanged a bemused glance before busting out in laughter.
“What is it? What’s so funny?”
The woman giggled. “It’s for your ceremony. White is for special occasions.”
Ceremony.
Wedding.
How stupid am I?
“Right. I almost forgot.”
“How could you forget about your own marriage ceremony?” The man chuckled. “My wife went on about ours the entire time leading up to it. She couldn’t plan it enough.”
“What all is there to plan?” I asked.
“Oh, you don’t need to worry.” The woman pinned another part of the robe. “As long as you show up and speak, everything else will be done for you. Part of the perks of being betrothed to a royal.”
“What are your ceremonies like? Is there dancing?”
The man nodded his head, eyes wide. “A lot of dancing.”
The woman turned to the man, craning her neck. “Can you bring me the knife? I want to try something.”
With an expert hand, she sawed off a piece of the fabric.
“What if we did a straight neckline instead of a V-neck?” She motioned at her chest where her mustard robe dipped in a V-shape. “And then we could pull the sleeves in at your wrists instead of having a wide opening.” She held one sleeve tight in her hand. “And then we could make a band or something to hold it together and give it definition.” She tied the cut piece of fabric around my wrist, turning the knot towards me so she could see what the flat and sewed version might look like.
“I love it.” The man folded one arm against his chest and the other under his chin. “It’s very flattering on you.”
I tilted my head. “It’s difficult for me to imagine, but I trust you two more than I trust myself with this.”
She beamed. “Perfect. I should have the other’s done within a week or so. I’ll have to wait on this one for a bit, but we’ll finish it in no time so you can try it on. And you can make changes if you’d like before Joulo.”
I smiled. “Thank you.”
While she unpinned the partial robe dress, reality sank deep in my bones… again.
I’m marrying a king. I’m getting married and I’m not even twenty years old.
I blinked a couple of times, looking down at the seamstress who watched me, like she’d asked a question and waited for an answer.
“I’m sorry.” I shook my head. “Lost in thought. Did you say something?”
The woman laughed. “I only asked how you’re settling in here. It’s not often that we have human visitors.”
“You mean never,” the man called from across the room where he worked on the Historian robe.
The woman rolled her eyes. “Well, yes. Never. Most of us have had some interactions with humans. Comes with the territory, I guess. But what’s it like?”
“You’re scaring the poor girl.” The man threw his arm out.
“Is it impolite to ask?” The woman bit her lip. “You are our queen, but you’re human, and it’s not so strange. Like you were one of us before.”
One of us—the words I had been dying to hear my entire life. The status I had been seeking since forever. Though I never found it among humans, I had found it among wolves.
“It’s definitely an adjustment.” I slipped my borrowed Historian robe back on.
“What’s been the strangest thing to you? The phasing? The ceremonies? Being betrothed to the king?”
The Tailor rolled his eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”
“What?” The woman gave him an exaggerated shrug, drawing out the word. “Every girl dreams of being an alpha!”
Even wolves want to be somebody—anybody—other than themselves.
“I think the clothing has been the strangest,” I said. “That, and the fact that there are magical races of creatures that I didn’t know existed until now.”
“It’s always funny to me how humans make up all these stories and then don’t believe them.” The woman started replacing her tailoring things.
The other Tailor motioned with his knife. “And then there’s the humans who don’t believe in wendigos or raven mockers, but they’ll believe in sasquatches.”
“So not all cryptids exist but some do?”
They answered me with guffaws of laughter.
“You have a lot to learn, je kunin.”
“So I have been told,” I grumbled.
“All right, shoo.” The woman flapped her hands at me. “If you don’t leave now, you’ll be late for dinner. And I’m sure you won’t want to miss tonight.”
With a final wag of her eyebrows at me, she turned back to her work.
I found my way down the path quicker than times before, curious about this dinner with Markus. He wasn’t likely to reject Caroline, that much I knew. All of it fascinated me. The child who became Alpha had a mate picked for him or her, but the siblings had the freedom to choose whomever they truly loved.
It seemed unfair. And yet, Iain had chosen me.
Why?
A flash of violet in the bushes caught my eye.
“Markus?” I called out, wondering if he was heading to Guardian’s Glade for dinner.
But a face I didn’t recognize peeked out of the shadows. The man bowed, his ghostly pale face contrasting his jet-black hair. His milky eyes stared into mine.
“My queen.” He bowed. “I do not recommend you go any farther.”
“And why is that?”
“It is gruesome.”
My heart cinched. “What’s gruesome? What’s happened?”
The Seer shook his head with a sigh. “Come and see.”
He pushed through some branches into the forest with no path, yet he walked with direction and purpose. He hesitated near a mossy tree stump, its longer broken trunk covered in shelf mushrooms. The scent of something rusty met my nose.
“What is it?” I asked, positive at this point that I wouldn’t want to know the answer.
The Seer knelt and pulled aside an array of large ferns that had been concealing a body.
A very dead, very mangled, and very bloody body.