Page 35 of A Legacy of the Light

A few people smile and wave at Reyne as we turn onto a long street that has three-story buildings pressed close together.

“This is one of the main areas for shopping aside from the square. That’s more of a market though, the buildings surrounding it are places to eat and drink. This street is where people have set up permanent shops. Where would you like to go first?” she asks as we dodge a grumpy looking Seelie speed-walking toward us.

“I’m really not sure. You’re the guide so you make the call,” I say. I just want to get a feel for the place.

Still arm in arm, we slow our pace so that I can have a look into the shop windows. Some are filled with food: pastries, cakes, meat and fish—pretty much anything you can imagine. Some are book stores, with old and new titles stacked neatly in the windows, and Reyne has to pull me away from those. We pass a few jewelers too, with stern guards posted outside their doors.

The clothing stores confuse me. Some are the more traditional items I’ve seen some of the Seelie at court wear, but there are stores offering more modern clothing that I’m familiar with.

“The fashion here is strange, it’s like a mix between the stuff I’ve seen on TV, and what I’m used to back home. How do you know what the right thing to wear is?” I ask.

“Well, the clothes you’re used to is what has gradually been introduced to us over the years from the human realm. The more traditional Seelie clothes aren’t the most comfortable or practical. You’ll find that the nobles tend to stick with the traditional stuff while the rest of us mix and match. The ball next week will be mostly traditional.”

“Okay. I’ll admit I’m nervous about it,” I confess.

I don’t like big crowds or being the center of attention. I suspect that the massive ballroom will be full and that many eyes will be on me.

“I get that. Being new you’ll definitely get a lot of attention. But I’ll be with you the whole night, I promise.” She squeezes my arm in reassurance.

“What’s the ball for? And what should I expect?” I ask her, remembering what Tavish said about the wine.

“It’s Urram, the day we honor Dhia, our Goddess. There will be lots of preening from the ladies at court trying to get Tavish’s attention,” Reyne says, rolling her eyes. “Lords and ladies trying to one-up each other.”

She isn’t doing a good job of selling it to me.

“But aside from that, there’ll be amazing music, and wonderful food, and a chance to meet some people.”

“Tavish said that Seelie wine is strong.”

“Aye, it is, so be careful if you’re a lightweight. Especially after a few hours. Things get . . . interesting.”

“Interesting? How?”

Her hesitation makes me nervous.

“Well, Seelie are a bit more open than humans when it comes to their likes.” She looks at me hoping that I’ll catch the meaning of her words. I don’t, and she continues. “Let’s just say, if you don’t want to see it, stay away from the chambers we passed on the way into the ballroom.”

“I’m sort of scared to ask,” I joke. At least it’s not some form a satanic ritual. I hope.

Reyne laughs with me as we come to a crossroads. At the center of the small square stands a tall statue of King Raghnall made of black metal. His foot rests on a boulder and his sword points down the street we just left.

“Awful isn’t it,” Reyne whispers next to me.

“The statue?” I ask.

“Aye. Most of us hate it, it’s just so . . .” she pauses as she considers what word to use. “Ugly.”

I laugh as we take a right, and the new street offers more cafes and fewer shops, but I don’t voice how I agree with her description. Reyne stops outside a quiet clothes store, a huge smile on her face.

“This is the shop I told you about. I thought, let’s get the dress part out of the way, and we can just explore for a little while after.”

I follow Reyne into the building and we’re greeted by a Seelie in her mid-forties with the same vibrant red hair as her.

She sweeps from behind the desk in the center of the room with a warm expression. “Reyne, I was waiting for you to show up. I assume you’re here for something for the ball?” the woman queries, embracing her tightly. She has the same soft accent as Reyne.

“Hi, Aunt Cait! Good to see you! Yes, this is Elsie. She’s a friend of mine and needs a gown, too. I have some ideas for her.” Reyne winks at me before being pulled into a conversation with Cait on fabrics and styles for her dress.

As they talk, I take in Cait’s store. It’s deceptive. From the front I would have thought the inside only had one or two rooms. The main interior is large and two stories tall, with wooden flooring along the full length of the building. A spiral staircase at the back leads up to a mezzanine floor that wraps around the entire shop, and mannequins showing different dress designs line the upper floor.