Chapter Thirteen #2
Grant purses his lips. He clearly wants to ask about the royal colours, but of course, were he truly a fae, he would know those already. I sigh.
“Purple will hardly suit him,” I say. A more pastel tone, perhaps, but not the colour my family decided to use. “Something softer. He is a selkie, after all.”
The Seelie brightens and scratches down a few more notes. Grant gives me a grateful smile and, next to me, Dante snorts. He shakes his head when I look at him, but he appears amused. I understand. It is hardly the time to worry about such things, and yet—
“Your turn,” Grant says brightly, and Dante goes still.
“Yeah, uh…”
“They don’t bite,” Grant says, and there’s a little more amusement to his smile than is truly warranted. It relaxes Dante, though. He is not the only outsider here.
I take his plate when he goes to set it aside, and then Grant takes it off me when he sits down. I frown at him. I made that for Dante. He quirks an eyebrow in reply and pops a blackberry into his mouth as he settles in to watch.
The Unseelie takes the first few measurements without comment, then steps back with respectfully lowered eyes. “If you could remove your robe, please.”
Dante swallows hard. He shrugs it off, sets it aside, and he is shirtless beneath as I am, which makes my breath catch in my throat.
The Seelie has his eyes resolutely fixed on his notebook, but he fidgets when I look at him as though he can sense it.
The Unseelie is absolutely professional and quick, and within a few minutes, he asks Dante to put his robe back on again.
“Colours for your pet?” he asks, rolling his tape up again.
Pet. I have never desired one—and I would never wish that for Dante, either—but the thought has heat rushing through me all the same.
Pets were far more common a few centuries ago, when we could cross into the human realm at will.
A fae would choose someone beautiful, some toy to play with, and bring them back as entertainment.
Not that some of those arrangements have not lasted for years.
“He will wear the same colours as me,” I reply.
My tongue feels heavy in my mouth. The purple will look striking on Dante, and I cannot fight the urge to stake my claim.
There are fae who will not want me to be here.
There are those who will believe that my soulbond being here means that my so-called pet is up for grabs.
“Very well, Your Highness.” The Unseelie ducks his head. “We will deliver everything in the next few hours.”
“We will require clothes for the next few days,” I say before they can escape to the door.
Dante makes a questioning sound, but I shake my head. We absolutely intend to find Ophelia and have them leave tonight, but should that not happen, Grant and Dante will need to blend in as much as possible until we can.
“Of course.”
The fae see themselves out and Grant offers Dante’s now mostly empty plate back to him.
Dante takes it but doesn’t eat. “We’re going to find her tonight, aren’t we?”
“As long as she is here, we will,” I say.
“So, the clothes?”
“A precaution. Better to have them now than need them later.”
“It’s a good plan,” Grant says. “That way they won’t suspect we’re about to leave, either.”
I nod. He understands, at least, though Dante still looks suspicious. He eats a couple of strawberries and sighs. “What are we supposed to do now? Wait around for the clothes to arrive?”
He is antsier than he was earlier today. I shake my head. “I should go to the tombs. Pay my respects.”
Dante’s eyes widen. “Oh, you—Yeah, we can stay here.”
Grant frowns. “I wasn’t gonna stay here,” he says. “I didn’t get a good enough walk around the castle earlier. I want to get a feel for it in case we need to make a quick escape.”
I sigh. He is a more proactive thinker than I anticipated. “You can both come with me,” I say.
“No, that’s—We can’t intrude,” Dante says, then sharper when Grant opens his mouth again, “We can’t.”
“Come with me,” I say. I want Dante with me, even if that is unfair of me. But I do not think his hesitation is on his part. “Grant is right. It will give me a chance to give you some lay of the castle without raising undue suspicion.”
Dante eyes me sceptically. “If you’re sure…”
“I am.” I get to my feet and push my hair back from my face. “We will dress, then we will go.”
The way to the royal tombs takes us past the great hall, where preparations are underway for tonight’s ball. Grant lingers in the doorway, and Dante stops too, though he is much more hesitant.
“Will they really get everything done in time?” he murmurs.
I nod. The fae are far enough away that they should not hear us and, even if they do, I cannot concern myself overmuch.
I am still an unknown quantity in their eyes.
They may tell others the things we say, but they are as likely to keep that knowledge to themselves, in case it comes in useful later.