Chapter Twenty #2
Moving on, I decide to attempt to apply some makeup.
The makeup here is very different to the makeup back home.
The blush and lip color comes in a glass bottle and it is thin as water.
The mascara and eye liner are kept in a metal tin and applied with a stick.
It has always looked too difficult to attempt on my own, so I never have tried it.
Tonight is the night to try.
Pausing in the mirror before I start, I cannot help but feel like I am getting ready for a date. Certainly he was asking as friends.
Just two friends going into town for dinner after I woke up in his bed this morning. I look at myself in the mirror and roll my eyes.
My head injury has made me delusional.
After applying my makeup, I take a step back.
I did not do half bad. I went with a pink tint for my cheeks and lips.
The mascara actually does make my eyelashes longer than any type back at home and the eyeliner does not move from my waterline after I apply it.
The black lines I had to scrub from where I knocked the stick against my skin, is evidence to how difficult it is to come off.
Stepping out of the bathroom, I rush over to my wardrobe and fling it open.
Applying that makeup took far longer than I anticipated.
My eyes scan the dresses and stop on the rose-colored gown hanging on the right.
When we went and picked out new dresses, this was Ivorie’s favorite. I pull it free and step into it.
It is a pretty dress, intricate in its design.
The rose color is neutral and not too eye catching.
The bodice has a lace overlay and a sweetheart neckline, showing some cleavage.
It ends at the bottom of my stomach, then flows out to a long skirt.
The sleeves of the dress are identical in color to the bodice and skirt, but the material is sheer, flowing down my arms and fanning out at my wrists.
I reach behind me and start to pull the zipper up, but only get halfway. Shit.
I am not going to be able to zip this.
I contemplate my options for a second and then try again. I switch arms, using the same arm as my broken clavicle and feel pain start to gather at my shoulder. I stop.
Inhaling deeply, I stomp over to the bedroom door.
I crack my door open and peek out into the hallway. “Hi, so sorry to bother you with an unusual request, but I really need someone to zip the rest of this dress up for me.”
The guard turns to look at me with annoyance set in his features.
“Of course, my lady.” He glances over at the other guard and mutters, “I did not know I was also the lady’s maid.”
He did not even try to hide his rude comment. I open the door all the way up and cross my arms over my chest as I shoot an annoyed look right back at him.
He starts to step forward, when a porcelain hand reaches out and grabs the back of his shirt. The guard flies back with an umph sound.
Draven steps into view and shoots a look that could kill over his shoulder at the guard. He shuts the door behind us and makes a motion for me to turn around. I oblige.
I feel his presence behind me as warmth caresses my back. His hands move to the zipper, gently brushing my skin as he grabs it. The contact of his fingers against my back almost makes me gasp. If he can hear my heart rate quickening, he does not mention it. I can hear it on my own.
He lifts the zipper achingly slow, his knuckles gliding across the top of my skin with each inch. When it stops, he clips the dress at the top, his fingers brushing the underneath of my neck.
I fail to suppress the shiver that runs down my spine.
He clears his throat and steps back. I turn around, suddenly feeling shy.
His eyes drink me in and I shift in place.
“That dress is lovely on you.”
“Thank you,” I say, my voice choked.
I turn away from him and walk over to my wardrobe, slipping on some flats. When I go to grab my cloak, my hand trembles as it sits in the air.
“You do not need a cloak, it is rather warm outside,” he says casually while I am trying to calm racing heart.
I nod and we walk out the door.
? ? ?
We take our horses into town. However, we are not alone. Guards trail just a few feet behind us. Draven refuses to go anywhere without them around me.
As we ride, I steal a glance at Draven. He looks handsome.
His hair is styled, some of the waves turning into loose curls. He is wearing a black button-up over top of tan riding pants and knee-high boots. He glances over at me and our eyes meet as he catches me staring. His lips tilt upward in a soft smile.
Something has changed between us over the past couple of days. Our usual banter has been replaced with something more tender and exposed.
He has spoken more about himself and his childhood than I have even begun to tell him. I mostly listen rather than share my own stories. The past hurts too badly. I do not want any more unwanted emotion coming up to surface for someone else to take on.
I would assume Draven feels the same way, but he does not look like he is hurting when he speaks of his mother. He almost looks happy to talk about her, the love for her showing clearly in his eyes.
I have to remember he has had over two hundred years to grieve her death than I have been given, so I give myself grace.
“What is your favorite color,” I ask him. The urge to break the silence and step out of my own thoughts becoming intolerable.
Surely it is black, that is all he usually wears. But judging by his room and bathroom, it could be green.
He pauses for a second, thinking.
“Yellow,” he says as his eyes meet mine.
“I did not take you for a yellow kind of guy. But I like all of the colors. My favorite though would probably be blue,” I ramble.
“I did not take myself as one either,” he says, as his eyes stay locked on my own. My brows furrow for a split second, then I look away.
As we approach town, I see from here how lively it is this evening. Last visit, I came with Ivorie in the middle of the day. Now that it is nighttime, there’s double the amount of people out.
We go to dismount our horses and Draven steps in front of the guard who tries to help me down. He insists that he will do it instead. He shoots look that could kill number two at the guard as he walks away.
He chooses to wrap his arm under my knees and around my back this time, lifting me up and setting me down gently on the ground.
We start walking forward as the crowd creates a path for Draven. Some wave to him as we pass, others bow. He waves back or nods. I glance up at him each time, noting how uncomfortable he looks with each interaction.
I watch each woman as we pass and see how they look at him. It is hard not to notice the way their body language changes in his presence. Some even drop something in front of him in hopes he will bend over and pick it up for them. He ignores them instead.
They stare at me with such envy and judgment. I keep my chin up as possessiveness churns low in my gut. I try my best to ignore the foreign emotion.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“There is a restaurant I have been wanting to take you to so you can try something.”
I look at him wearily due to his vague response.
He laughs. “It is nothing crazy, you will like it. I promise.”
I nod at him as he holds out his arm for me to loop mine through. We walk through the crowd with ease as he leads us down the street.
People line the streets in every direction, bumping into us constantly. I only feel and see him.
We approach a small restaurant in between two townhomes. There is a red awning sticking out from the building, covering the doorway. Chairs and tables line the streets where many couples and families are sitting.
The restaurant door flies open as the bell at the top rings.
A small, short woman comes running out of the restaurant toward Draven.
She is about four foot tall. Her skin looks like the leaves of a tree, light green with dark green veins running throughout it.
Her white hair curls as it falls to her shoulders.
“Oh my boy,” she exclaims.
He bends his knees, dropping down a few feet as he wraps her in a tight hug to his chest. Her small feet come off the ground, kicking as she hugs him back.
I cover my mouth with my hand in attempts to suppress a giggle.
“I heard you were in town. I have missed you.” She reaches up as he is still bent down and pinches his cheek.
“The feeling is mutual,” he says.
I look over and notice a blush creeping up his neck and moving toward his cheeks.
“I will have a table cleaned off for you in just a second. Don’t you worry,” she says.
Her small feet move quickly as she rushes over to a just emptied table and cleans it off. I glance over my shoulder at the other people waiting for a table, but they do not seem to mind.
She waves us over and we walk toward her. Draven pulls my chair out for me and moves across from me to sit down.
“I will get you your usual, but I will make that two of them.” She throws me a wink and scuttles back into the restaurant.
He looks over at me. “Her and my mother were good friends. I have known her my whole life.”
I smile. “I can tell. She loves you very much.”
“That she does. Her and her mate own a farm that supplies all of the food for the restaurant. Her mate works on the farm and then she brings the food into town for Merie to cook here.”
“That is very cool,” I say.
Noting that this is the second time Draven has used the term mate, curiosity gets the best of me.
“What is a mate?”
He hesitates a moment before he speaks.
“A mate is like… a life partner. Your heart chooses them and once it is bound by magic, it can never be broken.” He pauses. “You can only have one.”
“So not like a husband or a wife?”
“It is not the same as a husband or wife because many people in this realm marry for various political reasons. Like our marriage. We will be bound by paper, not bound by mated magic.”
“Oh,” I say quietly.