Callum replies in Gaelic, grinning as he claps him on the arm.
“What was that about?” I ask.
Callum hesitates. Then, shyly, almost too quietly to hear: “He asked if I’ve permission to dance with you so.” He stops walking. Looks down at me, expression turning serious. “Do I?”
My pulse stutters. He’s asking about more than just a dance.
And still I say, “Yes.”
Chapter
Twenty-Two
Ididn’t really believe Hamish when he said I’d get today off.
A big, paranoid part of me expected to wake up shackled and dragged to that pit. A guy like him wouldn’t let last night slide—Callum cutting in, taking me from under his nose. Hamish doesn’t seem the type to let things go unanswered.
But whatever his plan is, it’s not happening today.
Instead, I wake to a new dress, delivered by a girl of about twelve. I’ve seen her before, sweeping ashes, emptying chamber pots.
I exhale. Things could be worse.
Things could always be worse.
“Rhona,” she tells me when I ask her name, and I’m thrilled to understand something on the first try. Either I’m getting the hang of this accent or her name is just simpler. Whatever the reason, I’m so happy we’re able to communicate, I smile at her till my cheeks ache. She probably thinksI’m completely daft—yet another new word I’ve tucked away.
The moment Rhona leaves, I smooth out the dress on my cot, keeping an ear open for Donag. She was gone when I woke up, and she hasn’t been back. Maybe she’s disappeared into thin air.
A girl can hope.
Things have been strained since she caught me trying to cast that counter-charm. Her words echo in my head, cold and cruel.
I don’t want you neither, trust me.
Lately, she watches me warily, like I might have power buried somewhere inside me. Like she thinks I might actually succeed.
But until Callum discovers more about the magic we’ll need, I have to chill. I tried sniffing around, but if Hamish’s reaction to the hag stone was any indication, my attempts were more dangerous than I’d realized.
Last night, I gave Callum permission to…what? I’d agreed to more than dancing—I know that. It would be so easy to go there with him. To say yes. To dancing. To more than dancing.
But I can’t lose sight of what matters. I still need to figure out how to get home. Right?
Because what happens if I do let myself sink into this life? If I get too comfortable here? If I start thinking less about escape and more about…him?
I shake my head hard.Focus, Rose.
For now, I have to focus on what I can control—like this dress. This new,cleandress. It’s plain, which is a relief. I’d have freaked out if some Cinderella thing had shown upinstead. But Hamish doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who’d ever let me forget my place.
Still, it feels like the height of luxury. The fabric is thicker and softer than what I’ve been wearing, and cut slimmer, too. It’s simple, light brown, and comes with a lace-up vest in a green that might actually look good with my hair.
Plus, it has laces. Actual support. A welcome upgrade from the hideous sack Donag gave me.
I never thought I’d miss my bra. But on one of my first nights here, I made the mistake of taking it off to sleep, and by the morning, it was gone. RIP, underwire. I’m not the curviest girl, but still, I’ve felt a little exposed without something more than my precious Costco tank top to secure me.
The only problem? I can’t imagine putting this dress on in my current state.
I’mfilthy. Dirty, grimy, scalpy, oily—I feel like every gross-y word combined. I’ve been sneaking private moments to wash with a cloth, but surreptitious sponge baths have nothing on a hot, sudsy shower. There’s no mirror, but all I have to do is glance at my hands to imagine what the rest of me must look like.
