13. Everly
Everly
Chapter thirteen
Zaria strolls into my chambers the next morning with Kian, his arms full of garment bags. Tristan steps in and frowns at me before stepping back into the hall and closing the door.
“What’s his problem?”
“You’re human, and you somehow managed to slip away unnoticed,” Kian says, drawing to a stop in front of the large wardrobe where Zaria is waiting.
“In my defense, I wasn’t even aware you were out there.”
Kian smirks. “He knows that, but his ego is bruised.”
“I apologized.”
Zaria chuckles. “Fae hold grudges.”
“We do. It’s a thing,” Kian adds, standing there patiently while Zaria meticulously takes each garment from him and places it in the wardrobe.
Zaria continues organizing the garments, her fingers delicately smoothing out any creases as Kian watches her with amusement.
“So, what’s Raiden doing today?” he asks, breaking the silence.
Zaria pauses for a moment but doesn’t look at either of us. “How should I know?”
Kian raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I assume you two were close. It was his rooms you were–”
My eyes widen as Zaria spins on Kian, her face red. “Be quiet.”
“So, it’s true?” Kian chuckles. “You and the captain.”
Zaria squares her shoulders and swiftly grabs a gown from him. “I don’t know what you're talking about.”
My eyes dart back and forth between them in amusement.
“I need some popcorn,” I giggle.
Zaria’s attention snaps to me, a smile playing on her lips before she turns back to Kian and points her finger at him. “We aren’t talking about this, now or ever.”
“You’re no fun.” Kian winks.
I walk up to the wardrobe and peer at the rows of dresses.
“Why so many?”
“Need one for every occasion,” Zaria shrugs.
“She is playing dress up with you.”
“I am not.”
Kian stares at her, and I laugh. “Well, I don’t mind either way. They are gorgeous. I’ve never worn anything this beautiful, so I appreciate it very much. I didn’t even get a dress for my prom.”
Zaria frowns, her ears twitching. “Prom?”
My face heats, realizing they have no idea what prom is. “Prom is a formal dance held at the end of the school year for juniors and seniors. It’s seen as a rite of passage. A memorable night for most.”
“So like a ball?” Zaria asks.
“Exactly.”
“Why did you not get a gown?” Kian questions, handing Zaria the last dress.
I shrug my shoulders, attempting to downplay the situation. “My foster parents used the money to go to a concert instead.”
Truth is, I was devastated.
The prom was supposed to be a magical night, a chance to feel like a princess for once in my life. Yet, my foster parents had chosen their own desires over mine, leaving me feeling discarded and unimportant. Mixed in with my teenage emotions and hormones, it was a truly challenging time. I had to watch as my friends excitedly prepared for the dance, picking out their perfect dresses and discussing their plans for the night. It was a constant reminder of what I was missing out on, a stark contrast to the neglect I experienced at home.
Asrai peeks out from Zaria’s hair and flies over to me. I hold both my hands out in front of me and she gracefully lands there.
‘That wasn’t very kind of them,’ she signs.
“No, it wasn’t.”
“Wait, you can understand her?” Kian asks.
I nod and smile down at Asrai.
Her hands are moving again. ‘You have lots of pretty gowns now.’
“Yes, I do.”
Asrai’s wings flutter and she lifts from my hands and tugs some of my hair and giggles. ‘You can wear them for the prince.’
My cheeks heat and I sign back. ‘There is nothing happening there. Now or ever.’
Asrai’s eyes seem to grow larger as she stares at me. ‘You’re lying.’
“What are they saying?” I hear Kian ask Zaria.
“I know about as much as you,” she replies.
Asrai returns to Zaria’s head and settles in, her eyes like pools of blue and green, sparkling with mirth as she watches me.
Zaria places her hands on her hips as she stares at the rows of dresses. “Well, that’s all the gowns, twelve in total. Plus, I have another trunk of undergarments and nightwear downstairs. Tristan is currently fetching them.”
“Really, you shouldn’t have. I don’t need all this.”
"The prince insisted you have everything. Plus, I enjoyed shopping for you. It was all extremely satisfying.”
As I stand before Kian and Zaria, grateful for their kindness, I can’t help but feel a mix of emotions.
Tristan suddenly reappears at the doorway, carrying a large wooden trunk. “What in Aine have you got in here?” he grumbles, making his way over and dropping the trunk at the foot of the bed.
“Nothing that concerns either of you. Now shoo.” Zaria’s tail flicks up, swatting Kian in the chest.
With one eyebrow raised, Tristan crosses his arms over his chest, his tone laced with annoyance. “Are you done bossing us around?”
Zaria rolls her eyes, unfazed by Tristan’s grumpy demeanor. “Almost,” she replies nonchalantly. “But you know, Tristan, you could learn a thing or two from Kian about letting go of grudges.”
Tristan scowls at her, clearly not amused by her comment. “I don’t need lessons from him.”
I bite my lip, trying to hide my smile as Kian slaps Tristan on the shoulder and turns him toward the door. “Let the ladies be, old man.”
“I’m not old.”
“Your frown lines say otherwise.”
The door shuts behind them, and I turn to Zaria. “They are the perfect grumpy-sunshine combo.”
“The what?”
“Never mind,” I laugh to myself.