"No." The word was final. “Malachar has proven himself a fool and the only thing more dangerous than a fool is one whose pride has been wounded. You're staying where I can see you." He abandoned her wardrobe with a sound of disgust. "Useless."
He strode to the door, spoke to someone in the corridor, then turned back to her. "Can you ride?"
"Ride what?" She gestured vaguely. "We have cars where I come from. Four wheels, internal combustion engines, air conditioning—you know, civilized transportation."
His mouth twitched, almost a smile. "Horses, Briar. Can you ride a horse?"
"Oh." Heat crept up her neck. "I mean, I went on a pony ride once when I was seven. Does that count?"
"It does not." He looked pained. "We'll have to double up then. Try not to fall off."
Moments later, a servant appeared with an armful of clothing.
"These should fit," Eliam said, taking the bundle. "Get dressed. Quickly."
She stared at what he'd procured. Leather trousers. A thick, fitted tunic. A traveling cloak. Actual boots. All in shades of forest green and brown.
"These are... normal clothes."
"Don't get used to it," he said curtly. "I simply can't have you freezing to death before we arrive. Corpses are tedious to transport."
But there was something odd in his expression as he watched her touch the practical fabrics. Like he wasn't entirely sure why he'd ordered them either.
"You have fifteen minutes," he said, heading for the door. "Don't make me dress you myself."
"Why are you taking me?" she called after him. "Wouldn't it be easier to go alone?"
He paused at the threshold. "Malachar's magic is... unpredictable. If something goes wrong, I need to know where you are. Not wondering what mischief you're getting into while I'm gone."
It was almost believable. If she hadn't caught the way his hand flexed at his side, the slight tension in his shoulders.
"Besides," he added without turning, "you need to understand the consequences when other lords play games in my territory. Consider it... educational."
Then he was gone, leaving her to stare at clothes that actually covered skin. Practical, warm clothes that someone might wear who wasn't just decorative property.
She dressed quickly, marveling at the feel of proper fabric. The leather trousers fit perfectly and the tunic was soft as butter. When she pulled on the boots, she nearly moaned at having proper footwear instead of delicate slippers.
"Better," Eliam said when she emerged. His gaze swept over her, and something flickered in his expression. "You look..."
"Dressed?"
"Different." He turned abruptly. "Come. We're wasting daylight."
The walk through the castle felt strange. Servants stared openly, she'd never been seen in anything but revealing gowns. Even the guards did double-takes.
"They're confused," Eliam noted, sounding amused. "They've never seen you as anything but ornamental."
"And whose fault is that?"
"Mine," he said easily. "But today you need to be functional. The forest paths are treacherous, and ice makes them worse."
They entered the courtyard where two horses waited—though 'horses' seemed insufficient for the creatures before her. Their coats appeared dappled at first glance, but as they shifted, she realized the patterns moved like living shadows across their hides, dark bleeding into light in ways that hurt her eyes to follow. Antlers sprouted from their foreheads where horns might grow, branching into wicked points that looked carved from ancient bone. Their builds were powerful yet elegant, with feathering at their hooves that seemed to drift like smoke.
When one turned to look at her, its eyes held too much intelligence, too much knowing, and she stepped back instinctively.
When one turned to look at her, its eyes held too much intelligence, too much knowing, and she stepped back instinctively.
"They won't hurt you," Eliam said, approaching the larger of the two creatures. "Probably."
