Thyra
Cassia sweeps me into her bedroom, where she flings open the double doors of an enormous dressing room.
But she doesn’t stop there.
Striding toward the shelves lining the back wall, all of them filled with neatly folded clothing, she barely breaks stride before taking hold of those shelves and pulling them outward.
Concealed behind them is a second dressing room, even larger than the first.
This one is filled with both dresses and armor, some folded on shelves, many hanging from metal rods set around the walls, so many items of clothing that they’re crammed into the space.
A large, plush bench sits in the center of the room, and a small door on the left indicates a bathing room, while a reflective surface covers one half of the wall on my far right.
Antony takes up a position near the doors, his backward movement giving me an excuse to also step back from the reflective surface. I’m not keen on beholding my disheveledappearance right now.
Cassia doesn’t miss the way the chain clanks. She plants her hands on her hips and gives Antony a glare. “Brother. Release the chain.”
“No.”
“Thyra needs to try things on.”
“No.”
Cassia narrows her eyes at him.
He folds his arms across his chest, which only shortens the space between him and me. “Once Thyra has pointed out what she wants to try, then I’ll take it off.”
“Fine.”
Within minutes, Cassia has covered the bench and half of the floor with items of clothing, holding them up and offering them to me one by one.
I shake my head at all of them. Frilly dresses. Lacy corsets. Skirts made of bright silk.
She doesn’t appear terribly surprised when I reject them, giving me the sense she’s working toward the more likely possibilities.
Finally, she offers me a plain black corset that laces at the back, a pair of black pants, and a black overskirt that opens at the front and flows at the back. The overskirt is simple yet elegant, and won’t get in the way.
“Those,” I say, pointing at each of them.
Cassia scratches her chin. “This isOracle?”
“It’s closer than those.” I jab my finger in the direction of the garments I rejected.
“Okay. But we need something to cover your neck. Maybe a little jewelry with some lace behind it…”
She hurries to a box on a higher shelf. The moment she moves it, the shelf’s back panel falls forward, revealing a hidden compartment behind it.
Cassia freezes. Her hands clamp around the box before her focus flies to Antony.
I can’t ignore the silver material neatly folded within the compartment. “What’s that?”
Cassia’s voice is suddenly small. “A dress I forgot about.”
Antony is like stone, his tension a palpable force across the space between him and me. I find myself stepping further back from the shelf and closer to him.
For the first time since we arrived, a heavy friction builds in the air between him and Cassia.
I may have issues with Cassia for using iron dust in her fight over the village, but I have to break the tension between her and her brother.
