I grab the yukata and seal myself in the bathroom to get a hold of myself while I put it on.
Deep breaths, Sierra.
The red has a kind of sheen to it, so it’s bright and vibrant but not in-your-face fire-engine red. Probably it’s expensive.
There are no tags on it, so for all I know Nariel took a quick jaunt up to spirit world and pulled this out of storage. I’m not sure if that would be more overwhelming than the idea that he saw this and thought of me, or less.
Don’t ask questions you’re not prepared to know the answers to.Back in High Earth I would tell myself that to remind myself that Iwasready, always ready, for whatever they could throw at me.
I’m older now, and wise enough to know that this answer would only cause me more turmoil.
I take another deep breath, waste a quick spell to cast an illusion on my eyes so they’re not reddened by tears—works just as well as with blood—and gather the robe around me and stride back out.
Nariel, in the meantime, has traded his jacket for a black kimono jacket, which he, of course, looks absolutely devastating in.
Its cherry blossom pattern matches my yukata.
This is so much worse than matching festive pajamas.
I look up at the ceiling, as if the gods can help me.
Nariel chuckles, and the sound is like velvet over my nerves as he approaches with the sash. “That unimpressed?” he asks.
“Hardly,” I drawl. “I wondered before if it was possible for you to not look this good all the time, and increasing evidencesuggests you actually lookbetterwith more exposure. Jesus. Was the matching strictly necessary?”
He tilts his head. “Does it bother you?”
“The comparison bothers me,” I grumble, turning around so he can get to work tying the obi.
Nariel starts wrapping it around me, and I am trying very hard to ignore that his hands are on me—Ithinkhe’s being businesslike and that it’s only me that feels like every touch is sensual. But then he says in my ear, “You’re beautiful, Sierra.”
I can’t stop the shiver this time.
But I can ignore it, and his hands, through an effort of sheer will. “I’m aware, but I am not literallyotherworldlybeautiful.”
“Hmm.”
Nariel crosses in front of me, finishing off the tie.
“For someone with hordes of minions, you are very efficient at this,” I note, and I am unreasonably proud that my voice doesn’t even sound strained.
His lips curve in a smile, though his eyes stay focused on the knot.
Then he looks up under his lashes at me and my breath catches.
He curves his arm around me, and turns us in sync to the full length mirror.
I stare at us for a long moment.
Us, me and Nariel, a demon prince. Together, a matched set. Our edges look almost fuzzy, like someone has applied a filter to the mirror.
Magic.
Then Nariel says, “Do you not look as magical as I?”
My heart stops. And since I’m watching us in the mirror, it’s clear we both see it.
I have no idea what to say.
