Chapter Sixteen
Sixteen
Down in the Hollow, Lulu sprawled on one of the metal folding chairs, her elaborate skirts hiked up around her thighs.
“This is what’s killing me,” she said as she fanned herself elaborately. “The layers.” She tossed the fan to the makeup table and waved her skirts to let air flow in.
I nodded solemnly. “It’s a heavy costume. Brocade in the middle of summer is killer.”
“It really is. What were they thinking?” She grinned up at me, looking pretty cheerful for someone who was on the verge of overheating. But she already looked a little better, so the forced break had been the right thing to do.
“Queens are otherworldly creatures,” I suggested, sinking into the chair next to her. I wasn’t going to say no to a break, either. “Anointed by God and all that. Maybe they’re supposed to be able to take the heat.”
“Oh, I like that,” she said. “Like testing if someone is a witch?”
“Maybe. Standards were pretty wild in those days.”
She nodded, dropping her skirts to sit back, leaning against the makeup table. “You sure it’s okay that I’m back here? It feels lazy. I’m the Queen, you know,” she said with a grumble that sounded alarmingly like Mitch. “I should be out there with the masses and all that.”
“Queens are allowed to take breaks. Drink your water.” I nodded at the bottle on the table next to her, which was only half-empty. “Let your body temperature come down a little, and we’ll go back out there in a few.”
Lulu finished her bottle of water and didn’t complain when I forced another on her, reminding her to take small sips.
Once she was settled with that second bottle of water I went up the hill to check on Toby.
He was at the top, where the path opened up to the food area, standing as a sentry in case any invaders tried to come down and accost the Queen (unlikely).
“You doing okay?” I handed him a bottle of water, taking his halberd so he could have both hands free to open it.
He nodded, taking a long drink before pouring the rest into the pewter mug he kept clipped to his belt. “I’m not wearing a hundred layers like y’all are.”
“You could still take a break, though. Sit down for a few.”
“I’m okay,” he said. “We have the second chess match in a little bit. That’s a full twenty minutes of sitting on a bench.
” His eyes roamed the food area while we talked, and I suddenly got it.
He was taking it all in. Faire was fleeting, after all.
Four weekends a year that people like Toby, people like Nina and Simon and Emily and Mitch, looked forward to all year.
After today, there were only three days left.
In Toby’s mind, sitting down in the Hollow for a half hour was a half hour he’d be missing of that precious time.
Arguing with him would be pointless; I understood that now.
Besides, looking at the food area reminded me that I hadn’t eaten today, other than the protein shake Mitch had made for us before we left the house.
Despite the tight lacing of my dress and the heat of the day, two things that discouraged anything that even resembled a meal, my stomach rumbled.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d bought food here.
Did they even sell anything that wasn’t deep-fried?
“I’ll be back,” I said. “If Lulu shows up, make her go sit down again.”
Toby gave a sober nod and took his halberd back, passing me the empty water bottle. “You got it.”
I probably should be resting too; being on my feet all day is a lot when you’re not used to it. But I was restless, and Toby had a point. Plenty of time to rest during the next chess match. Maybe I should look at this Faire the way he did. A fleeting, magical time that would be over far too soon.
Hadn’t it been just a couple weeks ago that I’d thought of Faire as an obligation? An annoying thing I had to do, a millstone around my neck? That idea seemed ludicrous now. It was a joy to be here, a delightful escape that was all the more precious for being temporary.
I did a slow circle of the food court out here in the woods, taking in the fried chicken tenders, the french fries, the macaroni and cheese in a bread bowl, the funnel cake.
Despite my hunger, the thought of all those heavy, fried options made my stomach churn.
Each thing I considered seemed as if it would settle like a stone in my stomach, making it hard to move.
I gave as heavy a sigh as I could with this tightly laced dress on. I was starving and nothing looked good. Hanger was on its way, and that wasn’t going to be good for anybody.
Like something out of a dream, the way he always did, Alex appeared at my right elbow. “Hey.”
“You keep doing that.” But I smiled up at him, hanger temporarily assuaged as I touched a hand to the rose in my hair. “Thanks for this.”
He looked at the rose, then his eyes roamed my hair, my face. “I hope you know how much I think of you. Even when we’re not together.”
“Text messages work too, you know,” I said lightly. “Just something to keep in mind.”
“Yeah, but they’re not nearly as romantic.
You eat yet?” He nodded to the basket of chicken tenders and fries in his hand.
They were obviously fresh; steam even curled up off the fried potatoes.
My mouth watered at the sight and smell of them; I could practically taste the salt, feel the crunch of the hot fry as I bit into it.
I shook my head, despite being mesmerized by the food in his hand. “No. Nothing looks good.” But that looked good. He looked good.
“I get it.” He popped a fry in his mouth, and it was all I could do not to moan. “Fried food on a hot day like this. You gotta train for it, Parker.”
“Oh, yeah? Is that what you’ve done?”
“Ten seasons on the renaissance faire circuit,” he said, as though that were all the explanation needed. “I mean, okay, not quite a full season when the Sword Bros broke up. But otherwise…”
“When was that?” I asked. He hadn’t told me much about his life the past few years, and I was suddenly curious.
“I’ll tell you, but you have to eat something.” He plucked a fry from the basket, offering it to me like a flower.
I should have just taken it from him like a normal person, but I had a flash of memory.
The way his eyes had darkened when I’d taken my clothes off in my bedroom.
The way the breath had whooshed from his body when he saw me naked.
I wanted some of that whoosh now. And besides, who acted like a normal person at the renaissance faire?
I leaned closer, keeping my eyes on his, and let my lips part. I was close enough that I could hear the little gasp that escaped his throat, and I could see the subtle flare in his eyes. He traced my bottom lip with the french fry before sliding it into my mouth, and I let my lips close around it.
“Jesus.” His voice was faint as I crunched into the fried potato. Salt and fat and fluffy potato flooded my mouth, delicious. “You’re dangerous.”
I felt dangerous. I finished the bite and licked my lips, catching the residual salt. “When was that?” I repeated the question. I’d held up my end of the bargain, he needed to do the same.
“When was what?” He shook his head hard as though waking up from a dream. “I’m sorry, all the blood in my brain is, uh. Elsewhere.”
“The Sword Bros,” I reminded him. “When did y’all break up?”
“Oh,” he said. “Yeah.” Another headshake.
“That’s enough to calm me down. So, that year that we came back, but you were gone?
” He phrased it like a question, so I nodded.
“We did one more season after that as a full group.” He shoved two fries in his own mouth, chewing angrily in memory. “God, those guys were dicks.”
“Really?” I reached for another fry, but he playfully slapped at the back of my hand.
“That’s my job.” He picked up another fry and fed it to me.
“And yeah. This life is hard work. You have to keep evolving the act, make things different. New. Exciting. So you can keep getting booked. Festivals don’t want you to do the exact same act, year after year.
Patrons get bored.” His brows drew together as he rooted through the container to select a perfectly golden-brown french fry, holding it up to my lips.
I let him feed it to me, then another, as he continued.
“They were the ones who talked me into this whole thing. First we just did summer shows while we finished college, and then when we went full time they got bored,” he said with a humorless laugh.
“Brandon left first, then Kyle. Suddenly it was just me. A singular Sword Bro, with contracts to fulfill and no act to fulfill them with. I was scrambling, had to break a couple of them, but eventually I got the Shakespeare thing figured out.” He shrugged. “It beats fighting with myself.”
I had to laugh at that. I could also see that he still had three chicken tenders in that cardboard container, and I wanted one. “You gonna smack me if I steal a piece of your chicken?”
He smiled and handed it to me. “Another one of my favorite things about Faire.”
“Chicken tenders?” I crunched down on it. It was good, but good enough to be an all-time fave? That seemed unlikely.
“The food in general,” he said. “Everywhere you go, there’s something unique, but there’s also something familiar. I’m not really a turkey leg guy, but you can get them at just about every Faire. There’s something comforting in that.”
“I’m not into turkey legs,” I said. “Too cumbersome. And kinda dry.” But I looked over my shoulder as I said it. Would I get run off the grounds for my blasphemy?
“Personally? I love when there’s stuff like Ye Olde Gyro. Or just about anything on a stick. I’m a sucker for food on a stick.”
“You know what I’d like, though?” I reached for another fry, and we were full-on sharing his meal now. “A couple of those little mandarin oranges. Or some grapes. That would feel so refreshing right now.”
“Mmmm.” He nodded around his bite. “Some festivals have fresh fruit carts. And you’re right, can’t beat that on a hot day.”