“What?” she asked, standing.
Though her cloak hid her figure, the tight leathers revealed her curves. Lucius noted she would look perfect in a dress. She would have to leave her weapons and crossbow behind, but they wouldn’t need them—at least not yet.
“Come with me,” he said.
Tavia followed him in silence as they left the parlor and entered the main foyer, where a grand staircase curved up to the second floor. Though smaller than some estates, Lucius had chosen this place for its quiet seclusion in the woods. He had no need for servants; his collection of rare art and artifacts, locked safely in the basement, required no upkeep beyond his own occasional attention.
He led her to one of the guest rooms. Despite his solitary lifestyle, Lucius maintained an extensive wardrobe for female visitors. Cobwebs draped the room's four-poster bed, and dust blanketed the furnishings. However, the walk-in closet was untouched by time.
Lucius stepped inside and began rummaging through the garments. He bypassed the more extravagant brocade gowns, selecting instead a simpler turquoise dress that would match Tavia’s eyes. Holding it up, he turned to her.
“I think this is the right size,” he said, handing her the dress.
Her eyes widened in fear. “What is this?”
“We need to go into town,” Lucius explained. “And I don’t want anyone to remember me. So, you and I are getting a makeover.”
Tavia stared at the dress, holding it with uncertainty.
“There are shoes in there,” Lucius said, pointing to the floor, “and shawls. Once you’re dressed, come back to the parlor.”
“You need to explain to me what we’re doing,” she said. Though she appeared appalled by the idea of wearing a dress, Lucius noticed a flicker of longing in her gaze.
“In any reconnaissance,” he replied, heading toward the door, “it’s always best if two people appear to be wed.”
“Wed?” she repeated, her fear returning.
“Oh yes, my pretty dove,” Lucius said with a smirk. “You and I are going to pretend to be married.”
Out of all the bargains she expected to make with this vampyre, marriage never even crossed her mind.
Marriage?
I’ve never even been kissed . . .
CHAPTER FOUR
She couldn’t pretend to be his wife.
How could he even ask this of her?
They had only just met and fae and vampyres did not get married or procreate—she didn’t think a vampyre could!
“Now, hurry along and get dressed,” he said, seemingly unbothered by her distress. “I'm sure you're ravenous. I need to eat and get dressed myself. Return to the parlor when you're ready.”
With a flourish, Lucius closed the door, leaving Tavia completely and utterly confused.
Marriage? She hadn't signed up for this.
Tavia only wanted coin, not to pretend to be married.She had never even kissed anyone, for All Father’s sake.
Suddenly, she hated her parents for keeping her so isolated.
They had been kind people, always trying to give her the best, but it had also made her yearn for something different. Part of the reason she'd left and turned to thieving was because she wanted to change their future, to provide for them in a way they couldn’t.
Her mother had once explained the basics of how males and females created younglings, but Tavia had never experienced anything remotely close to intimacy. She’d wanted to, of course—there had been moments—but fear had always held her back. Trust was too costly, and she had too little to risk losing.
In the taverns, she had overheard enough stories to know men could beguile. She had often heard the muffled cries of women behind closed doors. Perhaps, one day, she had thought she might marry. But this? Pretending to be married to a vampyre?
