6 Dove
DOVE
And with that finally done, I’ll take my leave,” Maerryl said. “Some of us haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
I felt a tiny twinge, but said, “That’s not my problem. You are, as you love to remind me, employed by my parents. Take your feeding schedule up with them.”
Maerryl chuckled. “Good night, princess. I hope your dreams are as sweet as the remnants of a carrion crawler’s bathwater!” And with another sarcastic bow and a smirk, she shut the door in my face.
I couldn’t help the gasp that left me. The cheek on this one!
So I guess she’d given up on the mild, subservient act, at least with me.
I’d known from when we first spoke in the parlor that it was a facade.
This woman didn’t have an ounce of meekness in her, no matter how well she pretended around my parents.
In a way, it was satisfying, forcing her to let that fall away a bit and be her true self—biting, abrasive, headstrong.
Maerryl was a headache and still a problem I’d have to remove sooner or later.
But at least she was interesting. I hadn’t realized how starved I’d become for entertainment in the past couple of years, living with my parents, my friendships and companions slipping silently away.
Petra was sweet and dear, but when I tried bantering with her, it was like talking to a stone wall. A particularly solid one.
Speaking of Petra—where was that girl? She usually helped me undress after dinner, waiting for me by the fire with a pot of chamomile tea and some treat Choia had made that day.
I looked forward to gossiping with her about the household and the way she carefully undid my hair and wrapped it up in a silk cloth for sleep.
Moving through my rooms, I flicked fingers at the magelights that glimmered in the corners, activating them to a soft glow that filled the space.
Perched at my vanity, I began unclasping the gold trinkets from my hair and returning them to their little jade box.
A gift from a lover years ago, they were a special treasure of mine, one that I only wore in full on special occasions when I wanted to feel particularly beautiful.
Usually, I just tucked two or three around some front curls for a little sparkle.
I didn’t know what had moved me to have Petra put them all in my hair tonight.
Or wear this dress. As much as I hated to admit it, Mother hadn’t been wrong—my gown, with its flowing layers of the finest silk and a deep, plunging neckline, was far too decadent for a simple dinner at home.
Maerryl’s scowling face popped up in my mind, her eyes widening slightly when she first saw me in the hallway as we left our rooms.
No—when I’d decided on the dress earlier, it had been because the luxe red reminded me of the ruby I’d created today.
So beautiful and perfect, and such an excellent example of how masterfully I’d developed my magic over the past months.
When I’d first begun transforming rocks into jewels out of necessity, I’d barely been able to make a cheap garnet out of a pebble.
And now look at me! This gown was a testament to everything I’d achieved for myself and my family this year.
I deserved to wear it whenever I wanted, propriety be damned.
And seeing my irksome bodyguard’s gaze drawn down to the deep vee of my cleavage was just a perk.
I finished with my gold clasps, closing the jade lid gently and rising to undress.
Thankfully, this style of gown didn’t have heaps of fasteners and buttons that required a second, more practiced pair of hands, like some.
There were just a few artfully concealed ties that wrapped the delicate silk around my body.
I undid them and let it fall to the floor with a pang, already missing the feeling of strength and beauty that it gave me.
Quickly undoing my short corset too, I draped both it and the gown over the airing rack in a corner of my bedroom.
Petra could sort those out tomorrow. Whenever she deigned to arrive in the morning.
Slipping on a cozy flannel nightgown—the bed was a bit chilly without a hot water bottle or another body—I jumped under the covers and snuggled in.
What an odd day. Horrible, in some respects. There was much to be done, if I was to rid myself of this pesky bodyguard who Mother had stuck to me like a limpet.
But the memory of Maerryl’s solid body moving toward mine, my back pressing into the hard stone of the stairwell, rose in my mind as I drifted off to sleep.
Her furious hazel eyes. The thinly veiled fierce energy and the mocking lilt of her voice as she teased me.
I warmed in my bed as I remembered it, and the way I ran to my room to escape her focus, like a coward.
She was intriguing. A curious opponent in a life that, I must admit, had become a bit too bland.
And tomorrow was a new day.