Delicious scents of roasted meat, burning wood, and smoke drifted freely in every direction.
The guide stopped us just before the entrance. Beside us stood a stall handing out dresses and tunics to those arriving.
“Choose anything you like,” she said, gesturing to racks of clothing. “Tonight we celebrate life, freedom, joy, and our bonds.”
She disappeared before I could ask what that meant.
Daemon and I stood amid strangers who welcomed us with warm smiles and offered wine.
I looked around and saw everyone dressed in festive attire. Women wore flowing dresses that stopped at the ankles, adorned with flower petals I couldn’t identify. Men wore tunics with a simple circular design in the center.
I suddenly became aware that I was dressed in a simple tunic and pants. That my hair hung loose and tangled. That I probably looked as exhausted as I felt.
Before I could spiral into my self-conscious thoughts, I felt Daemon’s attention on me.
“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” Daemon said quietly, appearing at my elbow. “I can make excuses.”
I considered retreating to our lodging.
Then I looked at the celebration and the joy filling every villager. Though life was good in Vaelthorne, they must have had their own struggles. Despite that, they had made a deliberate choice to embrace the beauty of life.
“No,” I heard myself say. “I’m just thinking that we’re not dressed for the occasion.”
Daemon’s expression softened. “Sounds like a problem we can easily fix. You heard the guide.”
Before I could respond, Daemon grabbed my wrist. My chest fluttered at the casual grip.
He led me to one of the clothing stands and began shuffling through the rack of dresses. He circled the stall, examining the fabrics, occasionally lifting one and holding it against my chest as he assessed the fit while weaving through the crowd of villagers, his hand never letting go of mine.
After making a full round and getting a sense of my size, he selected a gray-blue dress adorned with silver petals. He chose a tunic for himself with far less effort.
“Get changed and meet me in front of the stall.” He placed a hand on my lower back and guided me into the changing area, pulling the curtain closed behind me.
I heard him thank the shop owner before drawing the curtain for his own stall.
I changed and looked in the mirror. I had never worn something like this before. The sleeves had openings that left my shoulders exposed, the fabric flowing freely halfway down my forearms. The dress hugged my figure, outlining my curves down to my hips before flowing loosely again to my ankles.
I never really had the luxury, or the reason, to care about how I looked.
I looked… good?
I wasn’t sure. It all felt unfamiliar, and my anxiety returned.Will I stand out?
I fixed my hair into a braid, not trusting it to behave otherwise. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out of the changing room.
I thanked the shop owner on my way out. She seemed happy, satisfied that others were wearing her work.
A few steps away, I saw Daemon, dressed in a dark green tunic and matching pants. The colors suited him perfectly. Different from his usual black clothing, but the deep, masculine tones fit him well.
Though the clothing fit him nicely, it was still his eyes that stood out. Everything else felt like an accessory to those dark eyes.
Those same eyes met mine.
I stopped a few steps away and felt his gaze travel slowly over me, lingering where the dress traced the lines of my figure.
Then he stepped toward me.
“You look beautiful.”
