“Harriet?” I yelled.
His shoulders bunched, and he shot a cursory look around the street. “Will you lower your voice?”
“Harriet,” I said again, thinking about the head of the royal guard being in a relationship with Wolfe. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed like the two overly serious warriors would be perfect for each other.
We passed the dress shop, and I stopped, peering down at my worn blue dress. A few other dresses had mysteriously appeared inmy wardrobe, and I’d wondered if it had been the castle’s doing or Cillian’s. Either way, I took it as a sign I should probably get some new clothes.
I tugged on Wolfe’s sleeve. “Let’s stop here.”
He groaned.
“Oh, stop complaining. Maybe we can get you some new clothes too.”
I grabbed his hand and yanked him into the shop.
Ceri emerged from behind the curtain in the back, her face brightening when she saw me. “Niamh.” She rushed forward and grabbed my hands. “I’ve heard so much about you from Cillian. I’ve been hoping you’d visit.”
I shifted on my feet, feeling a little awkward about the fact that I was marrying her best friend and hadn’t even introduced myself yet. Well, until now.
“I’ve heard so much about you too,” I said. “And I am in desperate need of some clothes.” I glanced down at my blue dress with a grimace.
Ceri gestured to the shelves piled with fabrics. “I think we can manage.”
Wolfe grunted beside me, which seemed to be the only language he spoke when out in public.
Ceri turned a stony gaze on him. “Hi, Wolfe,” she said, her voice frosty.
Even Ceri didn’t like Wolfe? She was Cillian’s best friend. Surely she should like his brother.
She smiled at me warmly. “Let me just pick out some fabrics that I think would work well with your complexion and hair. We’ll get a few measurements, and I’ll have your new clothes delivered to the castle.”
I noticed a golden key on her palm. Now that I knew I needed the key, my gaze sought it out on everyone I came across, and I wondered when I’d get mine—and where it would appear. I’d already been here two weeks, and that meant I only had four left to somehow get the castle’s approval. I’d taken daily walks, and every time Morton complained about the castle, I was quick to come to its defense.
“Niamh?” Ceri asked, drawing me back from my thoughts.
“You were saying you’ll have my clothes delivered?” As a former lady’s maid, I didn’t have the fanciest clothes. Ashami would’ve shared her clothes with me, but I was definitely wider, curvier, and much bustier than her. “That sounds amazing.”
Wolfe put his hands on his hips, glancing up in irritation as Ceri bustled away.
I swatted him. “Will you stop that?”
“Do I really have to be here for this?” he asked as Ceri’s father hobbled out from the back, stopping when he spotted us.
His hand went to his heart. “You’re looking flushed, my dear. You’re not sick, are you?” He backed away.
“No, I wanted to stop by. Wolfe and I just finished our morning training session, and I was feeling a little faint, so he insisted on walking me back to the castle, but I didn’t feel like going there just yet and decided it was time to go shopping, so now he’s forced to walk through town with me.” I leaned forward and whispered, “Which I think is good for him.”
Ceri’s father gave me the sweetest smile, but as soon as his gaze set upon Wolfe, his smile turned into a frown. “Well, you better not be here shouting and hollering about the prince again. I don’t know where he is. Haven’t seen him, but Ceri probably has.”
I turned to Wolfe. “Have you been yelling at people?”
Wolfe was fiercely protective of his brother, and on the one hand, I understood Cillian was the high prince, but on the other hand, he was also a grown-ass man who made his own choices. From the conversations I’d had with Cillian over the last few weeks, he’d made it clear that he wanted freedom and anonymity. Neither were things that Wolfe approved of, so the high prince resorted to sneaking out so that he could do the things he wanted. And apparently, instead of blaming the high prince, his brother was out here terrorizing innocent people.
Wolfe just grunted again, and Ceri’s father grumbled, “Only every other day.”
I threw up my arms. “This is ridiculous.” I looked at Ceri’s father, his back slightly hunched, his wrinkled hands shaking, and wasn’tsure how anyone could yell at him. I jabbed Wolfe in the chest. “No more yelling at people.”
“And no more overturning my mannequins.” Ceri’s father gestured to the shop, mannequins throughout the space wearing stylish dresses. “It makes such a mess.”
