Chapter 20
Daisy
That is a very handsome jacket you have there, Lennox, she thought with a smile. (For someone with no taste.)
Niall spat out laughter, sitting next to Lennox on the couch with blankets draped over it.
In three days, Tarian and Daisy had graced every available surface with their lovemaking.
The Fallen, upon learning this by walking in on them, hadn’t taken the news well.
They’d been downright disgusted, actually.
Now they wanted something between their butts and the “ruined” surfaces.
Lennox narrowed his eyes at Daisy. She’d thought the first at him and Niall, and the second only at Niall.
Helped by the Fallen and the contraptions, she could split her thoughts much better now.
She could also hide most of her thoughts in the void.
It was a place that didn’t register to a mindgazer.
The thoughts weren’t behind walls or shields or tucked away in a forgotten corner.
Not that Tarian could find at any rate. Not even that Eldric could find. They were just…not there.
This was not welcome knowledge to Eldric, who’d never heard of such a thing. He was hard at work within his chaotic library, researching what was going on and why he was excluded from her mind. The rest of the Fallen thought it was a human side effect.
It wasn’t. It was because of the nulling magic.
She was positive. The moment she swirled even a whiff of that magic, delighting in the earthy scent and feeling the hum in her body, her thoughts drifted away from prying minds.
They weren’t stored at the edge of her brain for someone to pluck out. They existed for her and her alone.
“What’d she say?” Lennox asked as Daisy tugged at his magic, siphoning it delicately. So very delicately. Any faster and he’d notice and attack her. Then the rest of the Fallen would have to jump in his way as Daisy took off.
The trigger in a fae was immediate and intense. She had to be very careful with that magic, which wasn’t great because, while she’d developed an instinctual use of it, she’d only been at it for three days. She was a fast learner, but she wasn’t a genius, as Eldric loved to point out.
“She probably said your beard tassel is ridiculous,” Revana said, adjusting her top bun as she passed behind the couch.
“Nah.” Kayla grinned. “It was that your braids are all crooked. Why are you still so bad at those?”
“I think she noticed that you’re too soft to be a Thornborn,” Gorlan murmured, standing by the door.
Lennox put up his hands. “Really? We’re all taking shots?”
“I mean, when it’s so easy,” Kayla replied.
Daisy stood for a distraction and fixed her hair, siphoning a little more. She passed by Lennox, giving him a slap on the shoulder as she went. Proximity boosted her magic’s strength. Physical contact distracted them from what was happening magically.
Lennox jerked his hand up as though to grab her but stalled. He looked at his hand in confusion, then at nothing. His eyes tightened.
Fuck. He was cluing in.
It was a somewhat scary thing when Lennox charged. That male might seem like an even-tempered, chill fae, but when he was roused, he was fast and powerful and determined. Give him an axe and he’d cut down a door to get to an enemy.
She’d been on the other side of the door when she learned that.
She slowed the siphon to a trickle. In a moment, she stopped it altogether. The siphon had to be started and stopped slowly. Sudden movements triggered the crazy.
“Daisy.” Tarian stepped into the doorway of the dressing room, his face a hard mask. He’d be taking her into the lion’s den this evening. The Court Hall.
She met him there dutifully and tried her damnedest not to run a hand down his chest, or over a shoulder, and definitely not over his groin.
It turned out he didn’t have much control when it came to sex.
He wanted it as often as possible, and he wouldn’t be rushed, not even when he was late for a meeting. Or a trap he’d set.
She wasn’t any better. She couldn’t stop thinking about him.
Keeping her hands off was a lesson in control she so often failed.
He just felt so damn good. She’d never experienced sex that gave her such huge highs.
And she had never dreamt of the closeness and intimacy they experienced in the quiet aftermath, when his fingers glided across her skin and they talked of trivial nothings.
His was a presence and proximity that had hooked her, and she didn’t want it to let go.
He held out a dress.
Her focus snapped to attention.
“What is this?” She took it by the bodice and lifted it up for inspection.
“As of today, you are officially a toy. I dress my toys how I wish to view them,” Tarian said, readying to go into court and speaking and standing (and acting stuffy) accordingly.
He frowned at her. “And what accordingly?”
“None of your business.” (Usually, she allowed him in her head because it was comfortable, but sometimes, she naturally omitted things without realizing it until he wanted to know what shit she was talking about him.)
He leaned forward for a kiss and let it linger, his arms coming around her and holding her tightly.
“Stop.” She pushed away. “If you show too much affection, they’ll kill me for sport. You yourself told me this. Let’s keep our heads in the game.”
His hungry eyes watched her, but he let her increase the distance.
The dress had warm brown tones with hints of dusty rose.
A subtle sheen overlaid a pattern that resembled delicate lace.
The bodice had a sweetheart neckline with intricate black lace detailing that cascaded down the sides and center.
It was formfitting, would allow for cleavage while hiding her knife, and was absolutely beautiful.
She’d wear this in the human lands, no problem.
Some thick-soled boots would be best for daytime wear, a delicate heel for nighttime, and who knew what he had available here?
“Jewelry?” She slipped off her servant’s dress.
He blew out a breath and turned around. “Warn me when you’re going to do that.”
He couldn’t handle her nakedness any better than her touch.
She smiled to herself as she looked over the underwear options.
She wouldn’t use anything for her bottom half in case he wanted to make a show, but she needed something in which to store her knife.
For that, she grabbed something similar to a strapless bra in the human world.
He must’ve had that made up specially for her and the knife.
The dress had a shoestring contraption in the back that was a decoy. Along the side was sewn a zipper that blended in seamlessly.
“Is this the fashion, or does the dress have human embellishments?”
“The zipper is from the human lands. I figured you wouldn’t want to be strapped into a dress in case you needed to fight.”
“Ladies here don’t fight?”
“Not when they are dressed for court. They have bodyguards, servants, and eyes on them. They don’t leave anything to chance. Neither do the males.”
“Yet they still die.”
“Not at court. Not in front of witnesses.”
Ah. It was leaving court or showing up to court that was treacherous. The corridors and hallways, the gardens and promenades, posed the danger. They had rules here.
She’d need to exploit those rules.
“Jewelry?” she asked again.
“No. Jewelry is stitched on the clothes of nobles—we use the general term of nobles for anyone of noble birth or higher. When speaking about gentry, though, which is the highest layer of wealth and privilege, we only say gentry. Royalty is in a tier of their own.” He paused to make sure she had it, then went on.
“Male nobles have the jewelry stitched in, as I said, and the females can also wear it about their person, like humans. Anyone lesser than a noble is plain, as befits their station.”
“Champions are plain?”
“Yes, unless they are of noble birth and trying to rise above their defined station.”
She cocked her head, thinking that through. “I’m a human. I should be different. Not as a toy, maybe, but as a champion. If I try to blend in, I’ll look ridiculous. Besides, you told the king I was a joke. Dress me as a joke.”
He turned to study her. “Of course. You should have human fashion.”
“That would be ideal, but do you have female human garments lying around?”
He put his hands on his hips, and his eyes went distant. He stepped out of the dressing room. “Does anyone still have any of the human clothes I brought back as gifts? Female human clothes.”
“Ohh, busted!” one of the guys shouted.
“I do!” one of the ladies said. “I think. I don’t usually throw gifts away. You never know when it might be useful.”
“I…may,” someone else said uncertainly. “I do love presents, but…you know…where would I wear it?”
Turned out that a couple dresses hadn’t been thrown away or used as rags.
They’d been tossed in trunks and were horribly wrinkled, all of them from a couple years and many fashion seasons ago, but they were salvageable.
The court would think they were as weird as the Fallen had.
Only Tarian and Daisy knew his impeccable taste.
When she was choosing between them, she tsked and shook her head. “I don’t have time for the alterations these need. We’ll have to sew them smaller, and I’ll pass off the length as purposeful.”
Tarian pulled a small trunk from a high shelf and set it on a round table. He flicked two clasps and lifted the lid. Jewelry glittered in the glowing orbs of the dressing room, diamonds and rubies and big-ticket items.
“When searching for the chalices, I grabbed anything of value that was easy to carry,” he said by way of explanation. “I stored them in case I ever got out of here. If my family doesn’t take me back, any wealth I possess will be stolen. It’s not pretty, but—”