“No, no.” Eira shook her head. “I’m feeling much better already. Just a passing moment.”
“All right.” The attendant stepped backward and motioned toward the center of the room in front of the mirror. “If you please.”
Eira did as she was told. But her steps were still slightly disjointed, as though her spirit hadn’t quite returned from that underwater place it had retreated to in the depths of her consciousness. She stared in the mirror.That’s me, Eira told herself.My body is mine because it still moves as I tell it. My thoughts are still my own. I am not his, not really.
“Now, we’re thinking—” The attendant stepped forward, placing her hands on Eira’s hips.
“Don’t touch me!” Eira wriggled away. The thought of anyone else touching her right now was utterly sickening. She needed a moment to herself—to be herself. To not be dressed up by anyone,claimedby anyone.
“I… I’m sorry. But for the fitting to happen, I’m going to need to drape fabrics and be able to touch you.” The attendant wrung her hands, looking guilty. “I can get someone else. If I’ve done something to make you uncomfortable—”
“No…no, it’s me.” Eira shook her head. “I’m having a weird day. I’m sorry.” She forced a laugh. It went over even worse than her smile.
“It’s all right. I will do my best to touch you as little as possible.” The attendant was true to her word. She only tapped Eira lightly with one finger when absolutely necessary to explain the cut or line of the garment they were envisioning for her.
Eira tried to follow along but kept getting distracted. She kept glancing over her shoulder, as if she’d find Ferro lurking in the corner, smirking like the fiend he was, satisfied that he held one end of her invisible leash—at the mess he had made her.
“Now, if you could undress.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I’ll need you to undress for this next part—just to your small clothes, not completely naked.” The attendant smiled. “I’m going to drape you with muslin and create a rough of the design we’ve discussed for review.” Eira honestly had no idea what that design was and the fact scared her slightly. Ferro had completely scrambled her brain, making it impossible to think or function as she knew she should. “Estal will then come in to make adjustments and render the design into the best and most flattering fabric possible.”
“I can’t,” Eira whispered.
“Pardon?”
“I can’t.” Eira shook her head and staggered away. “I can’t do this right now.” She had just been laid bare by Ferro’s mere presence. She could smell his cologne. How could the attendant not also? How did she not see the ghost of that man lingering in every corner? How was the attendant even breathing? The air was so very thin.
“Let me assure you, this is perfectly normal in our line of work. Most young women your age have concerns about their bodies. But you are lovely. And I have the utmost respect and discretion for your modesty.” The woman had a coddling smile and frustrated eyes. She was running out of patience.
“I’m sorry.” Eira jerked her head from side to side. The smile fell from the assistant’s face. “I’m sorry!”
Before the attendant could say anything else, Eira barged through the curtains and into a rack of fabric. She tumbled to the floor with two large bolts.
“Eira! Are you all right?” Noelle rushed over to help her up.
“What’s going on?” Alyss poked her head out of her fitting room.
“Mother above, we are so sorry for her. The girl clearly was raised in a barn,” Yemir apologized profusely to Estal.
All eyes were on her. Eira stared at Noelle’s outstretched hand and shook her head slowly. Pushing herself off the ground, she swayed and then began running. She sprinted past Noelle’s shocked expression and Yemir’s shouting. She ran for the door and out into the open air.
She ran, and ran, and ran, not knowing where she was going and not caring.
Away.
She had to get away…from Ferro, from the Pillars, fromeveryone.
26
Their days of training and Alyss’s skilled hand in her recovery had done more than Eira had previously realized. She ran for what seemed like hours before finally stopping, side split. Eira doubled over and vomited into a sewer grate, praying that no shadows were lurking below. With how well everything else was going, she was certain she’d just thrown up on Deneya’s head.
Wiping the back of her mouth with her hand and ignoring the sideways glances from the people passing by, Eira stared upward, catching her bearings and realizing the direction she’d gone. She let out a single chuckle of bleak amusement.
“Here, again… Why must everything come back here?” she asked the Archives of Yargen towering over her.
She’d come this far. Eira continued along the last of the stairs to the main square. She strolled into the Archives and stopped, staring at the empty brazier overhead and trying to imagine an illusion flame there, like Deneya had said. A flame that was supposed to represent light, truth, and justice, and the Goddess of everything good in this world… To think it had been a fake.
