I arched a brow. “Are we?”
He shifted the parcels in his arms—mine, of course—and affected nonchalance. “Tether’s fickle.”
“Mm,” I said. “We would not want you magically maimed in your sleep.”
His mouth twitched. He said nothing else as we climbed the curved staircase. Our room waited near the middle of the hall, double doors etched with gold and the inevitable lion. He opened the doors and ushered me through.
My eyes widened as my lips parted. The chamber was stunning.
Ornate floral wallpaper stretched between tall windows veiled in sheer curtains. A hearth shaped to resemble a lion’s mouth stood proud in the corner. At the center, a generous bed rested below a canopy.
Mav set the parcels by the towering ivory wardrobe.
“Thank you,” I said, shrugging free of my cloak. I wandered through the space, discovering the largest washroom I had ever encountered, with a tub befitting the grandeur of the rest of the space. “If it would not offend you, I would like to bathe before dressing.”
He arched a brow, lips twitching. “The day I’m offended by you being in any state of undress will be the day I’ve gone mad.”
A betraying warmth bloomed beneath my skin, spiraling from my chest to my cheeks. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling, but it was hopeless. I was certain he knew exactly what effect his words had on me and enjoyed every second of it. I moved the boxes of today’s purchases into the palatial washroom and closed the door.
After I quickly bathed, I lifted the lid off the dress shop box. Silk pooled in my hands, the shade between indigo and plum. Silver embroidery sparkled along the hem in constellations. It was fitted at the waist with a soft, layered skirt that danced with each movement. The sleeves hung off the shoulder, sheer, flowing, and dusted with beadwork.
I drew the gown over my hips, smoothed the bodice, and settled the sleeves. Pulling my delicate, silver mask from another package, I placed it on the vanity table. Unsure of what to do with my hair, I pinned back a few of the front sections in twists and let the rest of it remain free to tumble down my back.
On the other side of the door, cloth rustled. A soft sigh.
“I’m ready when you are,” Mav said.
After slipping on my gloves, I regarded my reflection one last time and stepped into the room. Mav sat at the edge of the bed, hands resting on his knees. When his attention moved to me, his mouth fell open.
27
MAV
Isat on the edge of the bed, trying to ignore the restless flutter beneath my ribs. My jacket was a light-consuming navy, embroidered at the cuffs and collar with delicate gold threads. The crisp white shirt beneath it had been pressed by someone far more capable than me, its high collar framing the edges of my jaw. The matching trousers fit better than any I’d ever owned, and the boots gleamed as though they’d been polished by royal hands. The final piece—a half-mask of brushed gold filigree—waited in its box.
For once, I didn’t look like a tired, battered knight. I looked like someone who might belong here, even though I certainly didn’t feel like it.
“I’m ready when you are,” I called to Quinn, hearing her negotiating with far more layers than I had to contend with behind the dressing screen.
She stepped into the room, and my jaw dropped as my lungs stopped working.
Quinn stood there, framed in the glow of the setting sun. Her gown was deep indigo, clinging in places I didn’t dare let my gazelinger long. Tiny glass beads stitched across the bodice like constellations captured in fabric. I wanted to press a kiss to every inch of her bare shoulders so she’d have the memory of my lips lingering on her for the rest of the night.
As breathtaking as she was, none of it compared to the way she looked at me. Her gaze was soft, warm, and a little shy—as if she didn’t know the effect she was having on me.
And seven hells, what an effect.
It hit low in my chest. Not merely desire, though there was plenty of that. It was awe. Reverence. As if she stepped out of one of the old stories the knights used to tell themselves during the war, when all hope seemed lost. Somehow, she was standing here, hewn from dreams and dusk.
Saints, what does she see in me?
I cleared my throat, stumbling to summon speech. “You’re…you’re stunning.”
Quinn beamed at me, and I forgot what air was for.
I no longer needed it.
It was her I needed to breathe.
