Chapter 15
Chapter
It is an odd sort of privilege to know
I brought her happiness without becoming part of it.
My people. It would be a lie to say I don’t think of them often. Every ounce of their suffering is my burden after all.
The small bag slips from my fingers, hitting the carriage floor.
I stare down at its opening, a tuft of lilac chiffon poking through, and nearly keel over as I pull the gown free. Beautiful is too dull a word to describe the weightless material flowing freely over my hands.
I hold it up to find the bodice gently fitted with a floor-length skirt that trails into a soft train at the back.
A tasteful slit up the one side, just high enough to allow for a night of dancing.
A sight I’m sure would leave many breathless, myself included.
Its long open bell sleeves shimmer and sparkle beneath the pale moonlight, the subtle lilac accentuated by beams peeking through the windows.
All I dreamed about as a young girl was having a dress like this. It’s everything I was told I could never have, and now I am to meet my people in it.
Oh, Rhidland.
A smile lights my face at the most enchanting thought. By wearing this, by presenting myself as more than I feel, I might inspire others to embrace the beauty we so often believe ourselves unworthy of.
“Everything alright in there?” Merrek asks, unable to see the tear-filled grin warming my cheeks.
“Yes.” Everything is perfect.
I push open the carriage door, startling a poor Myrrdin who had been waiting on its step playing with a stick.
The rest of the men fall silent. Well, all except for Merrek, whose whistle is cut short by the back of Rhidland’s hand.
At least, I think it’s Rhidland’s. It’s nearly impossible to focus on such trivial matters at the moment.
A vast expanse of rolling hills, bordered by a dense canopy of blue and red, now sits in full view. This is the farthest I’ve been from home. It is a moment I am not likely to forget.
Tall trees littered with sapphire leaves and familiar thorned vines stretch out before me, going on for miles. There’s no shortage of deadly red roses, their blooms sprouting from trunks at every twist and crook.
It’s beautiful, in a darkly whimsical, terrifying sort of way.
“Simply stunning,” someone says. I nod my agreement.
“That dress sure is something.”
Huh? Oh. Oh.
I stifle my nervous confusion with a laugh, turning back to the men. I’d nearly forgotten about the dress.
“You like it?” I ask excitedly, pushing my finger-brushed curls to give them a better view of the gown in all its glory. “I am going to meet my people in it.”
I offer a little twirl at the base of the steps.
“Shit. You look—”
Merrek chokes off as Rhidland clears his throat, a not-so subtle warning.
It’s good to see those two getting on so well.
Merrek rubs the back of his head, shooting daggers at the old man, but heeding his warning nonetheless.
“Radiant,” he grits. “I was going to say you look radiant.”
“That’s a new one,” Wolfe mutters, leaning against the carriage. He looks about as interested in the dress as a man is in knitting.
“Don’t give him any credit. He probably got it from reading Frog’s journal again,” Myrrdin jests, but his remark lacks its usual conviction. His and Wolfe’s laughter fading as the dark knight rides back into the fold.
So swift is his dismount that for a moment, I can’t tell where he begins and the horse ends. Until he turns around and his confident stride falters. His chest lifts and falls in pace with mine, in that weird way they always do when we’re together. Suffice to say, he’s seen the dress.
“Frog,” I breathe, or try to. I find myself suddenly short of breath. Fully dressed as I am, I feel naked beneath his gaze. Impossibly vulnerable. And yet, I long to see more of myself in his eyes.
His gaze is molten lava on my flesh, leaving behind a trail of something forbidden.
“Miss Sunday…” He swallows, unblinking, as if afraid I’ll disappear from sight if he should dare.
I’m so caught in the windswept warmth of his presence, I forget we are not alone.
“Hello! Hi!” Merrek steps between me and the dark knight, his arms stretched wide.
“Ope. Yep! There you are. I don’t know if you guys were aware, uh, but we’re still here.
” He gestures toward the other men, who are watching us just as intently.
“And I, for one, have some questions. Like, what was that?” He claps, pressing his amusement into a thin lipped grin.
I’d like to know too. My eyes dart from Merrek back to Frog, who quickly looks away. Clearly there is something here, and I’m not the only one to see it.
But Frog doesn’t answer. His back is already turned to us as Wolfe pulls him behind the carriage, leaving me alone to decipher that very question for myself.
Whilst juggling the suspicions of the other knights and Rhidland, who, by the way, is doing a horrible job at hiding a grin behind his hand.
Even Myrrdin’s features are lit up, his blue eyes studying me with rapt interest.
Utterly incorrigible, the lot of them.
“So, about these people I’m to meet. Should we be going now?”
My desire to change the subject does not go unnoticed, and my request is met without refusal.
After a shared collective of grunts and groans, we are on our way over the hills toward town, with me walking beside the carriage this time.
An annoyed Rhidland and talkative Merrek walk in step beside me, while Myrrdin drives the carriage. Wolfe trails somewhere behind.
And Frog rides, atop his black steed, just out of view.
On the opposite side of the carriage.