“Just a moment!”someone called.
“Svana,” he said.
“I’m sorry that I misunderstood your bargaining technique,” I said. “Please don’t feel as though you have to keep the dagger.”
“Are you kidding? The blade’s Damascus. I’ll cherish it,” he said.
“You will?” I asked.
“Yes. Thank you.”
I looked up at his jaw and took in his scent with a confident breath, pleased to be so close. The idea of Sameer somewhere outside as Cyrus and I exchanged gifts and longing drove me mad. But then we heard shoes and he stepped away and off the shop’s little step onto the tile floor.
“Do you want ribbon or something?” Cyrus asked.
“Ribbon?” I looked around. It was a modiste.
“Cyrus?”a woman asked, followed deftly by, “A-And the Princess. Princess Svana, Your Royal Highness. Hello.” She hurried to put order to whatever was at her counter. “Such a surprise. Was there something wrong with your delivery, Your Highness?”
“Miss Swift?” I asked.
Another lady came up from the back. Lydia handed her a folded garment. Her companion immediately curtsied to me upon receiving it.
“Lydia,” Cyrus said. He gave her a pleasant smile. “Hi.”
“Hi?” I asked.
She shifted. Cyrus cleared his throat.
“There’s nothing wrong with the delivery,” he said. “Her Highness and I are out today. With Sam.”
“Yes! …Shopping,” I hurried. “You have lovely work,” I said. I grabbed something off display in front of me, to break theair, then panicked, discovering thebraletteI’d picked up. In complete mortification, I dropped it.
Mr. Evergreen bent over, collected it and set it back onto the shelf. He glared at me.
The modiste took a pained breath, and I felt responsible for bringing him in to terrorize her, or…. Or did hewantto see her? Onpurpose?
I tried not to stare at him, I searched for anything, anyone else in the room. Save for the shop girl who had vanished, Lydia was alone. She excused herself, then returned with something from the back, and it wasn’t long before I tried to analyze her for some further purpose, but all I could realize was that she had pretty hair, a pretty face, and pretty manners. Her curls hung just above her shoulders, and we were allveryaware of the moment that existed between them.
“I finished your emblem, Your Highness,” she said, handing me my handkerchief.
The Eisson crest was perfectly repaired, hand-stitched and back to its full embellished pride. Then I wasjealousof her careful work, andworse, when I went to thank her, I caught an awful exchange of longing glances between her and my Cyrus.
She bowed her head, embarrassed.
“…Would you like to see our new swatches?” she asked.
“No,” the both of us replied. Then, I realized.
“Oh,”I said. “You meant him… That explains why you are so well-dressed, Cyrus. Mister. Mr. Evergreen.”
Her attention came back. “Would you like to try on that lingerie?” she asked, gesturing to the shelf. “I need your measurements anyway. Might as well collect them now.”
“Oh, uhm,” I half-whimpered, half-giggled awkwardly. “No,” I said, horrified at the thought. “No, no. No, I don’t… I don’t think I should be needing linger—” I gulped. “Lingerie.”
“Not for the order?” she asked.
“W-What order?”
