“I’ll need long gloves with that,” I say. “And knee-high boots that can fit at least four of my blades.”
Vera sighs. “Decarios and their attachment to their weapons…Not a problem. I’m sure Tabitha has gloves thatmatch the dress perfectly. I’ll take you to the best shoemaker in the city.”
We return to the front of the store right in time for the owner—Tabitha—to return from the back. Vera requests the gloves and the tailor finds them for us immediately.
“Put everything on my tab, Tabitha. Thank you, honey.” Vera turns to me. “Let’s go. We have to move you into my studio.”
I follow her out of the store and halt. “Excuse me? No we don’t.”
Vera stops and turns to me. “Phoenix, don’t be stubborn. It’ll be much safer for you to stay at my studio. This way, the Caligos can’t get you as easily. I can’t protect you if you live in your apartment where compromised Decarios roam freely.”
I shake my head. “I’ll be fine.”
Vera eyes me, clearly unhappy about my pushback. I don’t want to move in with her, despite her influence, because I need space.
I need space to figure out the situation with Daegel. We need to get on the same page before it’s too late.
As if she can read my mind, Vera steps closer to me and says, “Don’t think that just because you don’t live under my roof, you get to sneak around with your boyfriend behind my back.”
My voice is just as hard as hers. “I know.”
“I hope you do. The moment I find out your relationship is not over, our deal’s off. Now, let’s go get you those shoes.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
PHOENIX
Since I graduated the Ezkai Academy and joined the Order, three nights is the longest time Daegel and I have spent apart. I got so used to sleeping next to him, either in my bed, or most often, his bed, I forgot how lonely it feels to sleep alone.
Now that some time has passed, the anger and frustration that plagued me after our last argument, only this morning, has calmed. My studio is so quiet.
Any other day, I’d make my way to Roman’s studio to avoid the gaping void in my chest, and the lonely silence trapped between my apartment walls. But Roman’s not home.
He will never be home again.
The backs of my eyes burn, so I close them and inhale a deep breath. I’m in the armchair, my feet folded under me. A couple of candles scattered around the place offer little light. Shadows flicker on the empty walls, the cool midnight breeze flowing inside through open window above my bed.
I should have asked Roman to paint my walls the way he did in his apartment. This way, I’d have something of him with me. A reminder of his existence.
My gazes slides to the wardrobe and the luxurious dress hanging on the door. Slowly, I rise from my seat and approach the gown. It’s stunning. The smooth silk against my fingertips reminds me of home.
My mom had the whole wardrobe full of silks and laces, dresses similar to this and even more beautiful. She always knew how to dress the part. My sisters and I used to love watching her get ready for events at the king’s palace.
“Mom, you look so pretty,” Quint said, her head hanging off the edge of Mom’s bed. “Even upside down.”
I paused rummaging through her jewelry box to look over my shoulder at Mom. She did look stunning in a flowy sky blue dress with armored corset and high neck.
“Thank you, darling,” Mom said with a smile.
Fane picked up one of her many blades lined up on a cushion on one of her wardrobe shelves. “How are you gonna fit this anywhere?”
Mom approached Fane and took the blade with a white bone handle from her. “Careful with these, sweetie.”
Fane scoffed. “You never tell Phoenix to be careful around your knives.”
“That’s because I’m trained,” I said and poked my tongue out at her. We were eight.
She returned the gesture and crossed her arms. Mom caressed Fane’s head and ushered her to join Quint on her bed.
