“I swear it.” She holds up the material in her arms. “But only if you’re comfortable. There are plenty of options if you would prefer not to wear a dress.”
I used to love dresses. Preferred them to anything else, in fact, until I was forced into wearing them day after day, dressing up like a peacock for men who only cared about removing them.
I never had achoice.
But as Esme and I exchange looks, my lips curl into a slow smile. “I would like to wear the dress, I think.”
And perhaps I would like to see Callan’s face when he sees me in it.
Chapter thirty
Callan
Petyr manages to find me, even though I’ve hidden myself amongst the pillars in the great hall. It’s the best place I can find to avoid intrusive questions from the dozens gathered here as I wait for Sol to escort Selene down for dinner.
I should have done it myself. But I don’t trust myself, and I don’t want to push her.
She had felt like mist and air. Delicate. Breakable, despite that core of strength that seems to appear whenever she needs it. A mixture of softness and steel that I am rapidly becoming obsessed with.
I burn with that obsession, even as I stand here with my brother heading toward me and others watching me closely as I try to at least give the impression of still feeling unwell.
Petyr passes me a glass goblet filled with wheat-colored beer. “It’s a good thing you returned when you did. Our grain supplies are non-existent. This is close to the last of the supply until we make more.”
I don’t drink from it. “Of course. We must prioritize. What could be more important than beer?”
Petyr doesn’t respond to my barb. He rarely does, not since we were children. He takes a deep drink from his own cup. “It’s been incredibly boring here without you, brother. I’ve been waiting for your return.”
I can feel the truth in his words, although I can’t see my presence improving it. I glance at the scant remains of the Boreasan nobility milling and chatting in their fancy, faded dinner outfits as the quartet across from us sets up for music on a small, raised wooden platform.
I’ve always hated the theatre Petyr demands each evening. I would have preferred to take Selene to town for dinner, but he would never have allowed it on our first night back. “I’m flattered you think so much of my company.”
Servants dart between the small, huddled groups in faded green livery decorated with the family crest, pouring drinks as others set up the long tables we use for food. Others climb up onto ladders to light the glass lanterns that spread over our heads. The endless murky gray sky of Asteria’s daytime light is fading beyond the open entrance doors, slowly merging with the Sea of Stars to create a blanket of darkness as night falls.
He’s smiling when I glance at him, sipping at his beer. A coy smile, one that makes me stiffen even before he speaks. “You watch our faeyte closely, I noticed. Barely took your eyes off her during our meeting. Why is that?”
My body turns to stone. “What do you mean?”
Another sip. Petyr scans the crowd in front of us. Several pause as if to speak, and he waves them on with a roll of his eyes. “Are you concerned about her motives for returning? Is she plotting something?”
“No.” I swirl the beer, make a show of sipping, even though it tastes like dirt. “She has been open about her experiences, and she has agreed to help if she can. She is being truthful.”
“If she can?” Petyr echoes incredulously. “Of course she can. She’s one of them, isn’t she? Wendlyn couldn’t get a read on her, at least not from a distance.”
My hand tightens around my glass until it threatens to break under my touch. “She’s not up for the reaping. Wendlyn has no need to involve herself.”
“Wendlyn involves herself because she does what is best for this shit excuse of a kingdom.” He’s moody tonight, the ups and downs of his temper not boding well. I had expected him to be more buoyant, given Selene’s arrival and the replenishment of our supplies. “She knows her place, as we all do.”
A sly look. “What Selene’s place will be remains to be seen, though. Someone will need to keep a very careful eye on her if she’s to be given free rein to wander.”
“She’s not a prisoner,” I snap. My temper rises. “You’ll not treat her as one if you wish for her help.”
“Of course.” My brother clicks his tongue. “But I have our people to think of. She needs to be watched, Cal. I had thought Tobias would be a good choice. Or possibly Roan. He’s already told me how eager he is to watch over her.”
Across the room, eyes the color of old blood follow us without bothering to hide it. Roan has clearly been whispering in my brother’s ear again. His tongue slithers out, caressing thin lips.
Every muscle turns to stone. “If he puts Selene at risk, he jeopardizes the future for all of us. I’ll kill him before allowing that to happen.”
Petyr has always been able to read me. At the tension in my shoulders, he laughs. Slaps my back, his moodiness vanishing. “I see how it is. Relax, brother. I have no objection to you wooing her, or rutting her in the stables if you prefer. She’ll be far moreamenable if she’s in your bed, although I can’t imagine fucking something so cold. Is it true that they don’t feel pain?”
