Chapter 11
Eleven
Thanantholl
The second floor was not what I’d expected.
The curved hallway was wide and lined with carpet.
I stopped to take my filthy boots off before walking down the hall in my stockings.
Paintings of fae, many of whom looked like Thain, lined the walls.
Each door was a different color, and near the far end I found a bright red door, the frame painted with small blue flowers.
My fingertips brushed the painted surface, wondering how they got it so vibrant.
Wairen opened the door, and I found a room nearly the size of my cabin.
On a platform in one corner was a plush red-and-white canopy bed.
Next to that was a beautiful carved wardrobe large enough to climb into.
The ceiling was painted to look like a bed of roses.
A small table between two red velvet armchairs held my sack of belongings, and my second axe was propped against the wall.
I took the good axe off my belt and put it with the other.
And, as Wairen had promised, there were plants.
There were flowers everywhere in decorative pots, many of them serving no purpose but ornamentation, though there was a small white flower that would make a relaxing tea under the window.
A vanity with a matching red stool was near the double doors that had been left open to show a balcony with wooden rails covered in ivy and a bench formed from one of the oak branches that dipped down onto it.
“Wairen, this place is beautiful,” I breathed.
They puffed out their chest. “It is. I will leave you now, and I will knock when I come to water the plants.”
After waiving Wairen off, I stepped into the room toward the balcony. This place was beyond my imagination. The outpost had been extravagant, but this was downright overwhelming.
Caw.
Puko landed gently on the ivy-covered railing and began preening his wing. Stepping outside, I pulled a lungful of fresh air through me and stroked the feathers on his head.
“I suppose this is where we’re staying for a while. Try not to be a nuisance.”
Puko croaked at me then made several irritated clicks before returning to his grooming. I left him to it and explored more of the inside. A wide door by the wardrobe opened to a bathroom. If the bath at the outpost had been a dream, this one was a heaven.
The room was made of carved stone. The bath was sunk right in the floor, and the water nearly filled it to the brim.
Steps brought you down into the steaming water, and trays lined the edge with soaps and lotions.
Unlike the concealed pipe at the outpost that poured water into the bath, the water here fell from the mouth of a brass unicorn that kneeled over the far corner of the tub.
A nozzle to the side of it turned the water on and off.
The south wall held shelves of soft towels, and the north wall was one giant mirror.
This place was like the public bathhouse in Sulls I’d gone to once as a treat. Back then, I’d used the towels to hide my back and stayed unnoticed in the far corner, but this room was empty except for me, and I intended to enjoy it to the fullest.
I shut the door behind me and stripped immediately. I barely had my last stocking off before I reached the steps that took me into the blissful water. In a few short days, I had become dependent on a hot bath, which I had rarely even had until I’d met the fae.
I was content to soak for what must have been an hour before cleaning myself. I was scrubbing my hair when a gentle knock came through the door.
“Do not be alarmed,” Wairen said.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, completely unprepared for the door to the bathroom to open. I spun, hiding my back as the dryad leaned through the doorway.
“You have received a gift. I am laying some clothing out on your bed and will be gone in a moment,” Wairen said.
Sinking into the water, I was unsure of how to respond. Had they seen anything? There was no reaction if they had. I had spun around before the door fully opened, right? What had they said? A gift?
“Thank you,” I said, and Wairen appeared pleased as they closed the door once more.
I took plenty of time cleaning myself so Wairen would be gone before I climbed out of the bath. That had been a close call—too close. Wrapped in a large red towel, I peeked through the bathroom door to make sure I would be alone.
Four dresses had been laid out as well as underthings. Matching slippers sat on the floor next to where I’d left my dusty boots, and they all looked like they would fit. Each piece was made from materials I had never felt before, and on top of one of the dresses was a note.
A few items to welcome you to our city.
—Eb
A smile touched my lips as I let my fingertips run down the cool fabric of a sleeve.
A gift. A gift. I swallowed down the feeling that I didn’t deserve it.
I would make sure to thank Eberon for these beautiful things and to wear them well.
I had worn simple dresses before. They’d helped me blend into the larger settlements and cities, but they were never required.
These dresses, though, these were different.
The fabrics were light and expensive looking, the colors vibrant.
I was able to try them all on, but how to fasten them I wasn’t sure.
More lacing and ties similar to the shirt Schula had put me in for training, but different enough that I didn’t know what I was doing.
Two of them I could see right from the start would be far too low at the back and reveal my magic seal.
Another was too low in the front, and while I wasn’t usually so shy about my clothing, I wasn’t ready to be so bold in an unfamiliar city.
Perhaps if I had the same plump curves that Schula had, but I didn’t.
That left me with one dress. A deep purple one that covered me high on the back, gathered across my chest while still covering it, and swept to my ankles.
The sleeves covered me to my elbows, clinging tightly to my arms. There was still the matter of tying the lacing at the sides, but for now I was at least covered.
I walked around my room several times. The dress swayed around my legs, leaving me with the feeling of nakedness.
With breeches, my legs never directly touched each other, so the dress would take getting used to.
I’d need to find more of the clothes Schula wore most days, but these would come in handy if such dress was expected in Thanantholl.
I went out to the balcony to find Puko gorging himself on a bowl of dried cherries that Wairen must have left.
I sat on the oak bench, watching him. The fae below were easier to watch from outside.
I wasn’t directly over the street, but I could still see it.
I didn’t know how long I sat there watching and thinking and braiding my hair.
When I spotted Thain, I smiled and went back inside.
I could hear him come in downstairs as I walked through the hallway. When I reached the top of the stairs, I saw him talking to Wairen, who was moving through the arched doorway to the kitchen, then Thain looked up and stilled.
Heat rose high on my cheeks as those two silver points of attention fixed on me.
I knew it, these garments were still too fine, and I was still too unfamiliar to wear them well.
But they were a gift from Eberon, and that meant a lot to me.
I would simply have to adapt, because this was my chance to find a place where I could truly belong without constant judgment.
Thain blinked when I cleared my throat. “I’m not sure how these laces are tied, could I ask for help?”
“Of course.” He moved up the stairs with that annoyingly silent walk of his, his eyes moving down to the fabric I had tried to gather where the laces would hold it in place. His hands, calloused and brutal as they were, gently moved my fingers out of the way as he pulled the laces in place.
“Is all the clothing from Thanantholl so complicated?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Eberon’s taste, but you’ll see more like it. Tomorrow, we’ll find you clothing that you are comfortable in. Turn.”
I showed him my other side, and he repeated the process. Closing my eyes, the campfire scents of Thain seeped into my breaths as he finished and we stepped apart. “Thank you. I don’t know that I’ve said it enough lately, but I have a lot to thank you for.”
“Anyone would have done the same.”
Maybe, but I still had my doubts. Too many times had I seen the opposite in humans.
If I was being honest, my stomach still twisted in knots at the thought of trying to integrate with such a huge city of people.
But compared to what I’d left behind, who I’d left behind, it would be too painful to turn back now.
Thain’s attention shifted a second before I heard a knock at the door. “Eberon.”
He strode down the stairs, but Eberon let himself in before Thain could reach the door.
“Wren, that suits you well.” A smile spread across the golden fae’s lips.
Eberon had changed into much nicer clothing than what he’d traveled in, and that was saying something.
Golds and oranges complemented his neat red hair, and his leather boots were well polished.
There wasn’t one part of him that wasn’t embellished with added ornamentation, and somehow it fit him perfectly.
I walked carefully down the stairs, not tripping over the slippers or dress. I tried to walk with a sway, like Schula did. I felt ridiculous, so I stopped.
“I need to get changed. I’ll be right back.” Thain nodded to us as he went upstairs.
“I hope you’re hungry, we have a table at the River’s Edge.” Eberon swept to the fireplace and took a decanter from the mantle. “If you liked the pecans from earlier, you’ll be in for a real treat. The food there is the best Thanantholl has to offer.”