He exhales. “I'm telling you now.”
“Because you need something from Selen,” I snap. “Not because you thought I deserved to know.”
His eyes meet mine, cold enough that I could almost believe he hailed from a winter court. “Deserve’s got nothing to do with it. You’re not?—”
Selen reappears, carrying a bundle of deep blue fabric, and Zeriel decides to save whatever he was about to say.Smart guy.I don’t know when it happened, but I’m not just a girl from the Lower Wards anymore.
Selen pauses, staring at us. “Everything alright?”
I step back, pulse pounding. “Fine,” I mutter.
Zeriel doesn’t answer. He just turns his head slightly, as if I’m not still vibrating inches from him.
Selen raises an eyebrow but says nothing. She lays the bundle across her desk, revealing a gown of surprising elegance: midnight blue with silver accents along the bodice and sleeves.
“It's not imperial quality,” she says, “but it will pass inspection in dim lighting. I keep it for the odd special occasion.”
I stare at the garment. It's more beautiful than anything I've ever owned, though that's not saying much. The fabric catches the light as Selen unfolds the gown, holding it up against me. I’m around the same height as Selen, about five feet and seven inches, so it should fit.
“Thanks,” I murmur, holding it against my body.
Zeriel leans against the doorframe, observing me with an unreadable expression.
“Let’s try it on,” Selen suggests, then gestures to my tangled hair. “We'll see what we can do about that too. Though miracles are extra.”
She opens the door to her personal chambers again, and I start toward the door with the gown in hand. But I pause at the threshold and glance back at Zeriel. He’s still watching me, arms folded.
“I hope you're not planning to parade me around,” I say coolly.
The corner of his mouth flickers. “Only as a cautionary tale.”
I shut the doorfirmly.
Selen is already a few steps ahead, standing outside a door along the dim corridor. She pushes it open, revealing a small, functional washroom.
“You should wash quickly,” Selen says, stepping inside and turning a knob. Water gushes into a copper tub. “We don't have much time before your champion grows even more insufferable.”
“Not my champion,” I mutter. But the thought of washing away the day's grime is too tempting to resist. Selen adds a floral essence into the steaming water, and I step behind a folding screen to shed my clothes. The warm water embraces me as I slip into the tub, muscles I didn't even realize were tense beginning to unwind.
Selen busies herself gathering towels and a hairbrush from a cabinet. “You know,” she says casually, her back still turned as I scrub quickly, “if you truly hate Zeriel, there's a way to really unsettle him.”
I pause mid-scrub. “What's that?”
“Awaken his magic,” she says, far too casually for the weight of her words. “There’s nothing a champion hates more than losing control.”
Water still drips from my raised arm as I frown. Is she serious, or is this her idea of humor? It’s hard to tell without seeing her face.
“Time's wasting,” Selen reminds me, interrupting my thoughts. “The imperial court waits for no one.”
I finish bathing quickly, mulling over her words as I dry myself. “And how would I even do that, hypothetically?” I can’t help wondering.
I step out of the basin wrapped in a towel. Selen’s eyes are on me, half-amused. She shrugs. “It’s different for everyone. But a good place to start is questions. They lead to introspection, which leads to understanding, and sometimes… understanding unlocks doors that don’t close again.”
She helps me into the midnight blue gown, which fits almost as if made for me. The fabric flows like water against my skin, the silver accents glintingin the light.
“Alternatively,” she adds softly, catching my gaze. “When you have more time, you could try bringing him to me. I could see what I can do.”
She looks at me cryptically, and I frown.What could she do?
