Chapter 21
Roderick and Peter woke up very early the next day, both talking in low, excited tones about how much pixie blood they could sell and enumerating its many properties.
“We can sell it for any price,” Roderick said wonderingly. “Any price.”
“What do you think?” Peter asked me. “We could give some to Gil to heal.”
“No!” Roderick immediately boomed. “I’m not giving any of it away to a boy when we could sell it for thousands of gold shillings per vial.”
“I think it sounds gross, anyway,” I answered.
“Blood? Ew.” I didn’t even like looking at the stuff.
It was gold, just like the pixie dust, but a deeper, richer color.
It didn’t congeal like human blood did as long as it was kept cool, and I always felt unsettled when I looked at it.
I normally didn’t have a problem turning a blind eye to criminal activity, but there was just something about the situation that was off-putting and disturbing.
“If Gil can’t have or doesn’t want any pixie blood, he’ll need extra time to recover,” Lochlan said, delicately avoiding mentioning that he’d already administered some to me.
“Fine, fine,” Roderick said, waving his hand. “Stay in the room. I don’t care. Peter and I can handle this.”
Over the next few days, Lochlan continued to care for me, even after the effects of the siren’s blood wore off.
Despite my telling him that I didn’t need to be pampered, he continued to do so, saying that it was rare for us to be granted free time.
I neglected to mention that after Lochlan had used the pixie blood on me, I felt completely well again.
After all, he was right—it was rare to be granted free time, and if I had time, I wanted to spend it with Lochlan.
So while Roderick and Peter occupied themselves with selling tiny vials of the pixie blood, Lochlan and I spent a few days quietly swapping childhood stories, eating together, and playing a few card games.
I’d wondered if he wanted time alone to express interest in me, but he made no attempt to do so much as hold my hand.
Had I read his actions wrongly? It was very likely that he just saw me as a younger-brother sort of person, someone to be protected and entertained, but not at all someone to fall in love with.
With each passing day, I increasingly longed for Lochlan to see me as more than just a co-conspirator or younger brother. I wanted him to see me as a woman. After so many years of relishing the security of being seen as a boy, it was strange to have the desire to want a man to notice me as a woman.
When the week of the royal wedding had arrived, Lochlan spun some story to Roderick and Peter about how he and I were going to the wedding to find more buyers for the pixie blood. When he offered to let them come along, they both immediately declined.
“Other guests may recognize Gil, though,” Peter pointed out. “He was at the hospital when Marco was brought in. It’d be best if he goes in disguise.”
“What disguise do you suggest?” I asked. “Do we still have that black dress?”
Peter waggled his eyebrows. “A grieving widow would look out of place at a wedding, but a dress is still a good idea. I bet you could pass for a girl if you tried, so I vote you go as Lochlan’s date.”
Lochlan and I both froze, but Roderick let out a roar of laughter and slapped his knees, howling fit to burst.
“That’s rich! Just imagine!” He trailed off, laughing until tears streamed from his eyes and he wiped his hand across his cheek. “I’d pay for a dress myself if I can see that sight.”
I instinctively folded my arms across my chest, shoulders curled inward.
“Leave the lad alone. You’re embarrassing him,” Lochlan said. “He doesn’t have to wear skirts if he doesn’t want to.”
Roderick sneered. “No, it’d be best if you were the one in a dress. You already knit and sew and do women’s work anyway. You’re even more girly than Gil.”
They were heading toward another argument, so I pivoted on my heel and left the cottage without a word. I barely paid attention to where my feet led me, and the forest gave way to the outskirts of town before I even realized where I was going.
By the time I slowed, the dirt path had turned to cobblestone beneath my boots, and the quiet rustle of leaves had been replaced by the hum of busy afternoon life. People moved in clusters, laughing, talking, and brushing past one another without a second thought.
I skulked in the shadows, hood up to cover my blonde hair, and watched as I had done innumerable times before. But this time, I wasn’t studying a target or analyzing how best to pick someone’s pocket. In fact, I didn’t pay any attention at all to the men or anyone who looked wealthy.
I watched the women.
They moved differently than the men did.
I’d always known that, of course, but I’d never studied it before.
In fact, I used to do the opposite, going to great lengths to mimic boys and men to the point that no one would ever question my identity.
When I was Gil, I kept my head down, my stride loose and careless, and my shoulders squared.
But now…
A young woman passed by with a basket looped over her arm, her steps light and dainty.
Her hips naturally swayed from side to side, and she placed each of her feet directly in front of the other like she was walking along a line.
Another woman paused outside a shop window, looking at her reflection and adjusting a loose curl near her temple.
I shifted my weight, suddenly aware of the manly way in how I stood.
My feet were firmly planted shoulder-width apart with my hands shoved deep into my pockets.
What would it feel like to walk like those women did?
I tried to imitate a few steps like I’d seen the others do and immediately felt foolish.
I kept to the shadows until I passed a darkened window of an abandoned shop and snuck a look at my own reflection. There was my short blonde hair, still uneven from where I regularly hacked it off myself. My clothes hung far too loosely to define anything, just the way I’d intended them.
I looked like a boy.
Always a boy.
No wonder Roderick and Peter had laughed at the idea of me in a dress.
I didn’t look dainty or girly at all. My family would never recognize me, and Lochlan would never think of me as anything other than a little brother.
With a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, I looked back at the window and tried to soften my expression so I looked more feminine and less like I was about to kill someone.
I even attempted a gentle smile like I had seen on other women.
It looked foreign to my face, but not entirely unpleasant.
In the reflection of the shop’s window, a couple passed behind me, the man leaning slightly toward the woman as she spoke. He smiled at something she said, his attention entirely fixed on her as though the rest of the world had ceased to exist. I slowly turned so I could see his expression better.
My chest tightened. I wanted Lochlan to look at me that way.
Was it so bad to crave being noticed as a woman?
Being a woman was dangerous in a way that being a man wasn’t, but it also had advantages.
A man in love would do anything for the woman he desired.
He did everything differently, from how he spoke to her to the way he defended her against anyone who might try to harm her.
Lochlan had protected me. He’d run into a burning building to make sure I was safe.
That had to count for something. Then again, I had run into that same burning building to protect those who were still imprisoned, and I hadn’t had any romantic feelings for any of them.
Maybe Lochlan doing the same for me didn’t matter as much as I’d hoped.
I dragged my gaze away from the couple, who had continued hand in hand down the street, and I went on, walking with my familiar, masculine gait.
Farther into the market, a gaggle of girls clustered near a fabric stall, laughing as they compared ribbons and lace. One of them twirled slightly, her skirt fanning out around her as she beamed at the others.
I slowed to watch, strangely mesmerized. If I went to a wedding with Lochlan and wore a dress, what would he think? Surely, no one would recognize me. I’d been disguised as a boy for so long that reverting back to a girl for a single night would be the best disguise of all.
My fingers curled slightly at my sides. I’d never considered myself a coward, but I wasn’t sure I had the bravery to dress and act in a way that would allow Lochlan to look at me and see anything other than a partner in crime.
I exhaled slowly and straightened, adjusting my posture just slightly to be less rigid and guarded.
It felt unnatural but not bad. I held it and watched a passing woman again.
She strode delicately, with soft steps instead of briskly striding.
Taking small steps wasn’t so difficult. I could do that.
Instead of trying to sway my hips back and forth like the first woman, I simply took smaller, more measured steps. Encouraged, I continued those more ladylike steps until I came to a dress shop.
“Excuse me,” I said to the tailor inside.
The tailor turned with a smile. “Ah, Lochlan’s apprentice! I’ve seen your booth in town. What can I do for you, lad?”
My temporary surge of bravery faltered. “I’m looking for a dress for my…twin sister. She’s about my size. It’s to be a gift for her, but I don’t know anything about dresses. Can you pick one for her?”
The tailor tilted my cap back to study my face. “Similar complexion to you?”
“Basically exactly the same,” I told him, cheeks flushing a little. “Close to my height and weight, too.”
“I have just the thing.” He bent behind his counter and emerged with a bright pink dress splashed with sunshine yellow flowers.
I couldn’t wear that. A dress was frightening enough by itself without wearing one that would scream at everyone to look at me.
“She likes darker colors,” I said hastily. “Do you have anything like that?”
Most thankfully, he returned the bright pink gown to its place on the shelf and turned to pick through some of the dresses all hung up side by side. “A blue would probably look nice. Here.”
He pulled out a modest, unassuming dark blue gown with a high neckline and sleeves that came down to the elbows. The tailor studied it. “It isn’t as flattering as the other, but…”
“I’ll take it,” I said in a rush. “That looks perfect for her.”
“You’re a very kind brother,” he said as he wrapped up the gown. “Tell her she’s lucky to have a brother like you.”
“Thanks, I’ll tell her,” I said, handing over the coins and taking the parcel. “I really hope she likes how it looks on her.”