Chapter Eight
Eight
“I don’t know about this.”
The last word you’d use to describe Stacey was “grumpy.” She always had a nice thing to say about everyone, and I hardly ever saw her without a smile on her face. So for her, this was throwing a temper tantrum.
Not that I blamed her. There hadn’t been time this week to alter the Queen costume, and she and Emily weren’t even close to the same body type.
The white cotton underdress wasn’t the issue; three or four of us could have fit under there with no problem.
The gold silk overskirt had a very forgiving elastic waistband, and that worked just fine too.
But the royal-blue brocade overdress was a tight fit—so tight, it wasn’t really a fit at all.
Thankfully, the sides laced up, and that made the difference between getting the dress on Stacey at all or just sending her out in her old tavern wench costume with a crown on her head.
On Emily, those sides had been tightly cinched shut, and she’d still been swimming in the outfit.
Now that Stacey was wearing it, the sides didn’t meet, and there was a lot of underdress showing between the laces.
But at least she was wearing it. And it didn’t look bad at all. Stacey was a little taller than Emily, so the skirts didn’t drag. Last week, the costume had worn Emily, but now, despite everything, Stacey made it her own.
“You look great,” I reassured her.
Stacey tugged at her bodice, her normally cheerful face screwed up in a doubtful frown. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.” Okay, it was very possible that the real Queen Elizabeth wasn’t this buxom, but Stacey had a body that was made for this kind of dress.
She was all soft curves everywhere, round hips under round skirts, emphasized by the cinched-in bodice of the gown.
She looked like a summertime fertility goddess.
Stacey may not have been the most historically accurate Queen, but she was a gorgeous one.
“Hell yeah, you do.” Behind me, Nina concurred.
She gave my shoulder a pat. “All set.” She’d done my hair in a simpler twist today.
Our hair braider hadn’t been able to leave her booth this morning, so Nina had to pull double duty, and Stacey’s hair took priority.
I shot her a thanks over my shoulder and stood up while Nina did a full-body stretch, bending forward then backward, then twisting to crack her back.
“Never tell someone around here that you’re good at something,” she said darkly, though her eyes danced with amusement. “I’m gonna be braiding hair the rest of my life.”
I got out of the way so Nina could get to work, then looked around, not sure what to do with myself.
Emily was over on the other side of the Hollow, wearing a simpler tavern wench–style outfit of a blue bodice and skirts over a white underdress.
She had three red roses threaded through her dark curls.
She huddled with Simon, the both of them focused on a paper in his hands.
The new schedule, probably. There was a lot going on this weekend, but none of it involved me.
I didn’t know where to be to stay out of the way. I felt lost.
Then I was found.
“Hey.”
I turned in a swirl of pink skirts. Alex leaned one shoulder against a tree that I had just walked past. How had I missed him? Had he materialized out of nowhere?
His warm smile reached his eyes. “You have a minute?”
I had a lot of minutes. And while last weekend I wouldn’t have wanted to spend any of them with him, this morning I was still feeling that cleared air between us.
His smile no longer hurt the way it used to.
And then there was that peek of brown leather cord at the collar of his shirt, reminding me that he still wore my ring. He was being careful, and so was I.
I shrugged as nonchalantly as I could. “Sure.”
“Come on. I want to show you something.” He pushed off the tree and held out a hand.
I didn’t take it; cleared air or not, we were nowhere near hand-holding status.
Unbothered, he dropped it again and started up the hill, glancing over his shoulder almost immediately to make sure I followed.
I looked over at Stacey, who was still getting ready.
Another glance at Simon and Emily, who had called over some of the performers to explain the schedule change. Nobody needed me.
So what the hell. I followed Alex up the hill.
“My favorite time of day,” he said as we walked past the food area, which already smelled like roasting turkey legs and funnel cake. “The gates aren’t open, everyone’s still getting ready. The whole Faire is waking up.”
We hit the main lanes, our feet crunching on the thin layer of gravel, and I peered up at the multicolored flags on poles that lined our path. They looked brighter against the trees in this early-morning sunshine.
I’d never seen Faire like this. As a kid I’d always been hanging out with my friends down in the Hollow, excited for the day to start.
But none of us had ever explored the grounds before the patrons arrived.
Now, almost an hour before opening gate, the grounds bustled with quiet anticipation, and it really did sound like a small town waking up for the day.
Alex led me down the main lane, where vendors were busy setting up.
There were very non-period Rubbermaid tubs scattered everywhere, as display cases were restocked after being empty all week.
In an hour those tubs would be gone, and those same vendors would look as though they’d always been here, with their crystal jewelry and leather-bound journals, their custom-made boots and frighteningly genuine weaponry.
Off in the distance voices called to one another, and the occasional clang of steel or chord of music signaled that performers were getting warmed up and tuned up.
I glanced over at Alex—shouldn’t he be getting ready for the day himself?
But he seemed content to spend this time walking these grounds with me.
He led me down a side lane, and if we were anywhere else in the world I might have been worried.
But I’d been running through these woods since I was a teenager, and although I’d been away for a few years there wasn’t much about this site that had changed.
An additional tavern here, a new stage there.
A half-size pirate ship off in one corner, covered in rope ladders for children to scramble around on.
He wasn’t taking me to the pirate ship. In fact, I had no idea where he was taking me as we turned onto a path that wasn’t really a path.
We weren’t heading to any stage or vendor setup.
It was a path that had barely been trod, just a few broken branches at waist height to show that anyone had ever been here at all.
“Where are we going?” I wasn’t afraid. Not of Alex, not of these woods. But I was starting to get a little annoyed.
“Shhh” was all he said. He didn’t even turn to look back, just assumed that I’d keep dragging my skirts through the loose pine needles and fallen leaves of this unkempt part of the Faire site.
Irritation made my skin prickle, and just as I opened my mouth to ask again where the hell we were going, Alex stepped into a small clearing, turning to me with a smile on his face.
I followed him into the clearing, and the deep breath I took felt something like relief.
Not just at finally having a destination for this wild goose chase, but in reaction to the clearing itself.
It looked like a dream. The kind you never wanted to wake up from.
This far from the action, the clearing was all but silent.
The early-morning sun filtered through the trees, its watery yellow light catching dust motes in the air and making them sparkle.
There was an almost otherworldly whispering from above, and I craned my neck up, finally tracing the sound to the tops of the impossibly tall, impossibly thin trees.
They bent and swayed in a breeze that only existed that far up.
“I found this clearing a few years ago, and I wondered the other day if it was still here.” Alex’s voice was a hushed murmur behind me. “You can practically hear the trees breathe. Can’t you?”
I nodded, still looking up at the treetops.
He was right. The treetops swaying really did look like an inhale and exhale.
Magic. But I’d always found the renaissance faire to be a little bit of magic.
I’d tried to forget, but you couldn’t deny what was right in front of you.
“I can’t believe Simon doesn’t know about this place.
” My voice was hushed, like I didn’t want to wake a sleeping baby.
“What would he do with it?” There was amusement in Alex’s voice, but it was similarly hushed. Neither of us wanted to disturb the quiet of the morning.
A wide smile spread slowly across my face as I thought. “Another stage, probably. From what I understand he’s having to turn down acts every year.” But no. This place didn’t need to be a stage. I didn’t like the idea of crowds coming to wake these sleeping treetops.
“This clearing reminded me of you.”
That got my attention. “Why? We never came here when we…We never came here before.” Had we? I looked around again, waiting for it to change, transform before my eyes into one of our old makeout spots. But no. Despite all my years on cast with this Faire, this was a part of the site I’d never seen.
“No,” Alex said. “No, we never did.” His voice was soft, distant, as though wishing he could rewrite a memory. “The first time I found it…well, it was that first summer you’d stopped doing the Faire.” He cleared his throat hard. “It was my biggest regret that year. Not seeing you again.”
Now it was my turn to clear my throat. I didn’t like this. Like he’d laid a trap and I’d stepped right into it. “That’s not on me.” Defensiveness rose like bile in my throat, and I turned to go. I needed to get back.