“Sorry. I should have knocked. Did you sleep well?”
He clears his throat, and the pink on his cheeks doesn’t escape her notice.
“More or less. I’ve never been killed by a dragon before. It was unsettling, to say the least.”
That’s quite an understatement.
“It was an unsettling thing to observe.” Elowyn turns to the gowns hanging beside her. “Which one should I wear first?”
“You’re asking me?” His voice comes out hoarse again, and Elowyn tries her hardest not to laugh.
“Who else would I ask? Do you know how it all goes together?” She fingers a satin gown as her forehead wrinkles.
“I have no idea.”
After a moment of thought, she holds up two of the gowns. A shimmery, light blue satin and a dark red one that’s almost crinkly and yet smooth. “Which one?”
Rominy looks like a deer blinded by an orb light as he stares at her, but Elowyn patiently waits for him to speak.
“You want me to choose?”
“You’re my binding partner. My husband. Your opinion matters most, I think. Doesn’t it?”
Surely he finds her at least a little attractive. He’s sent her a few admiring looks since they met. Or that’s how she interpreted his expressions.
Perhaps she was mistaken. The thought gnaws at her, but she pushes it aside. They just met. With time—
“The blue one. It...looks nice with your hair.” He studies his fingernails after he says it.
A warmth spreads within her chest at his words, and she nods. “I like the blue one, too. Now for the rest.”
She hands the gown to Rominy, and that blinded doe expression finds his face again. After returning the red dress to the rack, she peers inside drawers and thumbs through hangers. When she pulls out a stiff garment that seems designed for no other purpose than to cage its prisoner, Rominy lets out a strangled sound. “I’m not sure—”
“What the purpose of this is?” she finishes for him.
“Not sure I should be here. Those are...stays.”
“Stays?”
“They go around your...around you and...hold you in or something.”
She turns bewildered eyes toward him. “Hold me in where?”
“The dress? I don’t know. Seems awfully uncomfortable to me, but I don’t make the rules.”
“I’ll try anything once, but this seems like an odd thing to wear willingly.” With a shrug, she keeps perusing the drawer of undergarments.
“A maid. That’s what...I should...I’ll ring for one.” Without another word, Rominy shoots toward the door before turning back to hand her the gown. Then he’s gone.
She scared him off again. With a huff, she blows the strands of silver hair from her face and sits on the upholstered bench in the middle of the room to await the maid.
Elowynhadnoideathe effort it would take just to get dressed. Stockings and shifts and stays, not to mention petticoats and whatever odd pants she’s wearing.
To think she imagined she could manage alone if Rominy told her what she needed. He was probably being truthful when he claimed not to know. She’s not even sure what all she’s wearing.
But the dress twirls in the most enchanting way, and Rominy’s eyes widened when he first saw her. The blue does complement her hair.
Appropriately attired, they race through the corridor toward the guest wing. It’s well past eight—surely her family didn’t leave without saying goodbye. It’s odd that no one came to fetch her.
