CHAPTER 13
THE MANOR, A’KORI
Present Day
It’s been three days since I left the cottage, three days of silence and boredom.
Every day it becomes harder to suppress the anxiety tightening my chest. Despite my expectations, I’ve received no word from Awri.
While I certainly failed in my attempts to be the perfect lady, she hadn’t seemed to mind my banter.
I constantly remind myself that she asked me to help plan the king’s party, and she had nothing to gain from the request if she never intended to see me again.
Felias at least is encouraged by my growing reputation and apparent budding friendship with the king’s favorites.
He cast a wide net into the upper echelon of society and in the last two days I’ve received a handful of friendly visitors that would like the benefit of my newfound connections.
The social luncheons are tedious, and I find that my favorite times of the day are when Tig and Eon come to attend me.
Unlike the social climbers, the sisters are entertaining and easy company to keep.
Lounging on a soft velvet chaise, book in hand, I watch the sprites and chuckle as they argue amongst themselves.
Eon, while still timid, has stopped hiding behind the furniture, and I’m beginning to think Tig might have preferred her when she still acted shy in my presence.
It hadn’t taken Eon long to devise that I preferred the comfort of the silk pants beneath my dresses.
Though it seems the sprite may have become bored with color coordinated fabrics as she is currently in the middle of a heated debate with Tig that I assume has something to do with the blue dress and green pants she tries to offer me.
A light skid along the hardwood floor has both sprites snapping their heads toward the hall, a wary growl escaping Eon’s lips.
I glance past them to find a letter, slipped beneath the large doors.
Tig takes advantage of the distraction, pulling the colorful silks out of Eon’s arms, as she points her sister toward the letter with the stomp of her foot.
Eon lets out a string of windy words that flit past my ears as she walks to the door, snatching the sealed envelope off the floor despondently.
I’d taken Felias’s advice seriously when he told me to listen harder and spent the last two days straining to understand the sprites.
I find them in my suite every morning and night and while I still don’t understand them, they do not lack for conversation among themselves.
It wasn’t until last night that I’d finally managed to grasp a single word as it attempted to glide past my ears.
It was an enchanting sound, a breathy echo on the wind, and only made me more determined to listen until I can hear every word.
Eon hands me the letter, her arm stretched as far as she can manage, nearly bending backwards to keep herself away from me. The sprite is fearfully determined to keep as much distance between us as she can. At least she isn’t hiding behind the furniture anymore. It’s progress.
The moment my hand closes over the envelope she darts to the center of the room, her eyes wide saucers of violet.
“Tha’haynah,” the sprite says as she dips her head, and my own head tips curiously at the strange windy word.
I repeat the word, curious about how it will feel on my tongue, and the sisters share a glance at one another as they smile.
“What does it mean?” I wonder aloud.
I can hear the excitement in their voices as they talk over each other, but the words themselves are once again lost in the wind. I do my best to hide my disappointment and tuck the word away so that I can ask again, another time.
My eyes fall to the letter in my hand, and I puff out a breath, relieved to see Awri’s seal. I was beginning to wonder if she changed her mind about being my friend. I certainly wouldn’t blame her.
The letter is vague, and she hasn’t asked for a reply.
“She’s taking me to town,” I say to the sprites, “and she’ll be here within the hour.”
Tig puts a hand on her hip and quirks an eyebrow. The sisters are every bit as animated and expressive as their words are elusive.
“I agree.” I quirk a brow back at the sprite. “A little presumptuous of her.”
Tig puffs out her agreement and selects a pale silver gown and a matching pair of pants to dress me in. As presumptuous as the invitation might be I’m nearly as relieved to be free of the manor as I am about furthering my friendship with the female.
I’m not used to being idle and despite the fact that the herb continues to keep my demon at bay during the night, when I dig deep, I can feel the darkness coiled inside of me.
It bides its time, waiting for the release I desperately need.
The herb won’t last forever and that’s something I’ll have to deal with, but not today.
I shake off the thought and instead watch Tig braid my hair. Her hands haven’t stopped moving but her eyes are fastened on mine and she’s absent her usual smile.
I hurry into the courtyard when I see Awri’s carriage approach.
Whatever remains of my trepidation vanishes the moment she flings open the door and I see the warmth of her cheerful face.
My mood spoils just as quickly when I take in the general sitting across from her.
Another wave of relief hits me when she pulls me into the seat beside her so that I’m facing him, rather than sharing his bench.
“I’m so glad you could come with us today,” she beams.
“As am I. Thank you for the invitation,” I say, as Awri taps on the roof of the carriage, and it jolts forward.
“I’m glad to see you will be joining us as well, General,” I say sweetly.
The male who hasn’t so much as glanced at me since I climbed into the carriage whips his head toward me as if I’ve just threatened him.
He looks me over and his lips form a hard line, but he tips his head in greeting before resuming his perusal of the grounds outside the window.
I try not to be smug about the fact that I’ve already annoyed him and without even trying.
“I thought we might stop by Adora’s,” Awri says, “She is a good friend and by far the best seamstress in A’kori.
She isn’t taking new clients, but I’m sure she will make an exception for you.
I’ve sent the invitations out for the masque just this morning and she, along with every other needleworker in town, is sure to be flooded with orders as soon as they are received. ”
“I would love that, Awri. Thank you,” I say, biting back a grimace.
“Then why do you look like you’re in pain?” the general sneers.
I hadn’t noticed his eyes on me, and I think I prefer being ignored by the male.
I school my features into a pleasant smile and keep my tongue from lashing out.
No need to tell him that if I do look like I’m in pain, it’s likely because I’m acutely aware that I’ll have to suffer through his charming personality for the duration of the day.
“It will be fun,” Awri says, taking my hand and wrapping it around her arm.
“I normally despise standing for measurements, but I think you will find Adora is particularly amusing.” She leans in, whispering in my ear loud enough for the general to hear, “I believe the general is afraid that you and she may get along a little too well.”
I have no idea what she means but I can’t wait to find out when the general side eyes her, his frown deepening.
A small bell rings when we enter the brightly painted shop near the center of town.
I hadn’t given it much thought the day I arrived in A’kori but due to the gentle slope of the city there are few areas in town that lack an expansive view of the sea.
Behind a small table of sandwiches and cakes, a settee sits below a large window with a sweeping view of the shimmering harbor.
Crystals hanging from a small chandelier over the seating area dance and sparkle in the sunlight.
Vases of cut peonies adorn every surface, filling the air with the scent of spring.
A slender feyn rushes out from behind a heavy curtain leading to the back of the shop.
Her hair is a dark shade of blonde, twisted into a knot at the top of her head.
She wears a dress in the typical A’kori fashion, but she’s taken the front panels of her skirt and knotted them below her hip, turning it into little more than a tunic and pants.
Her dark brown eyes look me over from head to toe before she looks to Awri and opens her arms, her lips breaking to reveal a warm grin.
Awri is quick to wrap her up in a lingering embrace as she says, “It’s been too long.”
“You always say that,” Adora chuckles.
“Well, it’s always true.” Awri pulls back from her friend, handing her a sealed letter produced from within the cloak she wears.
The seamstress cracks the seal, pulls out a thick, forest green invitation with golden scrollwork and lets out a long whistle.
“I’ll make sure my girls are expecting the orders. But your dress, I will sew myself,” Adora beams.
“I’m hoping you’ll have time for two,” Awri says and beckons me over. “Adora, this is Shivaria. She’s recently come from La’tari to stay with her uncle for the season, and she’s in need of something exquisite that can only be crafted by your magical hands.”
I will myself not to look at her hands as I wonder if the seamstress is in fact gifted or if it is only a turn of phrase. Adora’s eyes sparkle at the compliment, and she offers me a small, kind smile.
“Lovely to meet you, Shivaria. If you’ve managed to work your way into Awri’s favor, I’m sure I can find the time to craft your gown as well.” Her eyes fall back to the invitation. “What is the theme?”
“Fea,” Awri says, bouncing on her heel as she claps her hands. “Inspired by my new friend here.” She nods in my direction.