“Don’t worry, Girly, I will get you out of here soon, just hang in there.”
I nodded, words failing me for once, because I was afraid that if I tried to speak, something honest would slip through. Something that would expose the inconvenient truth that my feelings for Oblivion were growing, whether I wanted them to or not.
“Keep the water running next time, yeah? Preferably before I start phasing like a budget ghost.”
Despite everything, a laugh escaped me, and this was the last sound he heard before he disappeared. Leaving me standingthere with nothing but the heaviness in my chest and the relentless sound of water pounding against the tile.
After that, I unlocked the door and stood just inside the doorway, my hand still resting against the wood behind me, as I scanned the room. My gaze drifted toward the desk first, when I noticed it. A tray now sat neatly arranged where there had been nothing before.
For a moment, I simply stared at it, my thoughts struggling to catch up with what my eyes were telling me. A covered dish rested at the center, a glass of water placed beside it with deliberate care, droplets sliding lazily down its side. There was also a small plate of fruit arranged to the side, along with a plate holding a chocolate dessert of some kind.
But the food didn’t hold my attention for long, as that wasn’t all that had been left for me. My eyes quickly swept to the flash of color that had infiltrated the dark room. The one that was now spread across the center of the bed. A striking wash of green broke through the black like a jewel set in shadow in the form of an…
Emerald dress.
A deep, saturated green that seemed almost alive against the dark fabric. I moved toward it before I consciously decided to. The bodice was fitted and shaped to follow the curve of the waist, before flaring into a full skirt that promised movement. The neckline dipped softly, not too brazen, but undeniably feminine. Thin straps, no doubt, were meant to rest delicately against bare shoulders. The back, however, was where the real intention lay.
Thick lacing.
Emerald silk threaded through narrow panels in a corset design, drawing the fabric inward so it would fit like a glove. And speaking of gloves, a pair that matched the dress perfectly lay close by. They were elegant and long enough to sit above the elbow. A pair of shoes also sat in an expensive-looking box,covered in tissue that I had unwrapped, gasping when I saw the designer label.
I stood there gaping down at what were possibly the most beautiful dress I had ever seen in my life.
The full skirt was layered, light enough that it would move when I walked, gathering at the waist before spilling downward in a soft, sweeping fall. There was also a slit along one side, subtle but undeniably revealing. Like the suggestion of my leg being exposed when walking rather than announcing it outright. It certainly wasn’t an innocent dress. And as I stood there, staring at that vivid emerald laid across Oblivion’s black bed, I couldn’t ignore the symbolism. Shadow and jewel. Night and forest. His darkness framing something that refused to be swallowed by it.
It wasn’t a dress chosen to hide me.
It was chosen to display me.
A small, folded card rested against the bodice, and I stared at it longer than necessary, as though opening it might confirm something I wasn’t ready to confront. Eventually, though, curiosity won. The paper was thick and expensive, with an old-fashioned style of writing, as if a quill and inkpot had been used. As for what was written there, my heart sped up a beat as I read the card…
If you would honor me with your
company this evening, I would be most pleased.
Yours,
Wyr.
Wyr.
Not Oblivion.
Not the King’s Enforcer. The name he had asked me to use. The name that felt dangerously more personal now that it was written on a card.
My fingers lingered over it longer than they should have, as though touching the ink might somehow feel like touching him.
My gaze shifted back to the tray on the desk.
The timing unsettled me more than the invitation itself. I had barely turned off the water. Barely watched Bo’s form materialize before someone was in the room after being ordered to bring me these things.
Food prepared. A dress selected. An invitation waiting. Oh, and not forgetting my suitcase, which I found sitting next to the door that led into his walk-in closet. As if acting as a silent order to unpack it into the space he had obviously created for me.
My stomach chose that moment to tighten, a quiet reminder that I had eaten little since morning. The scent drifting from the covered dish was warm and savory, rich with herbs, grounding in a way that felt almost unfair. It was as though even my hunger had been accounted for.
But a persistent thought formed and wouldn’t let go as I looked back at the door. Had someone heard me talking to Bo? Goddess, I hoped not, or we were screwed.
I turned back toward the bed, seeing the dress still lying there. As though the layers of silky material represented my answer.
