Page 61 of Down from the Tower

Elsie rolls her eyes, and I get the feeling she isn’t as impressed with me as Thomas is. “Oh, right. I’ll get dressed…”

My voice trails off as I pinch the clothing, peering through the pile. These are more basic clothes, rivaling Zarev for dreary colors. No restraining corsets or toe-pinching shoes. The slip ons she set on the floor might need a strap to hold onto my arch, and there’s little padding in them.

“I hope our commoner clothes don’t offend you, your majesty,” Elsie sneers, and I lift my gaze again. Bitterness clouds her gaze, and her hands have turned to fists as she watches me.

Embarrassment makes my cheeks flame. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“Save it,” she growls, shaking her head as she turns. “You royals are all the same.”

I take my time getting dressed, partially because I put on the loose corset the wrong direction and spend far too long trying to figure out how to lace it. It goes under the bust instead of over, and the small section of ties pushes up my breasts as it cinches me in. The dress is a few inches too short, or maybe that’s the style. These shoes are a little loose on my feet, so I use another tie and fashion something akin to straps so they don’t fall off my feet. I almost consider just going down there barefoot, but the soles of my feet need the limited padding.

Braiding my hair takes the longest. My arms ache by the time I’m finished working out the tangles from my hair, painstakingly braiding it as best I can. The two braids make it a little less heavy on my sore scalp and by the time I make my way downstairs the light outside is dimming again.

Still no Zarev.

“Princess!” A booming voice pierces the space, and half the tavern looks my way when I reach the bottom of the steps. Dahlia stands beside the man who shouted, thumping him in the arm, and he gives the both of us a sheepish grin. “Sorry, Zelle.”

Right. There goes discretion.

“Look at you now,” Dahlia says, stepping from behind the bar to catch my hand. There’s joy in her eyes when I step closer, and she tugs on my arm. “Go on! Give us a turn! Oh, that dress fits you nice. And I knew my corset would hold you in just right.”

I blush, letting her observe me while the burly man watches. He reminds me of Elsie, and must be another child of Dahlia’s with the red brown hair and same smile lines.

“She’s pretty,” another voice says, and a young boy walks over carrying a tray. Then a second with his same likeness, and a third. “Ray says she’s like a golden kiss.”

“Hush,” Dahlia snaps, looking around at the four of them. “Zelle is visiting with Zarev. There is no golden anything here at the tavern. Understood?”

Four sets of eyes drop to the floor. “Yes, Mother.”

“Good lads. Now, back to work. We’re all celebrating tonight!”

The trio rushes off and the burly guy leans over. “Got some new ale, Miss. Fresh from Maker’s Market this last week. Such a good blend too. Care for a mug?”

“Don’t get her sloshed before Zarev comes back,” Dahlia reminds. When she looks back at me, she flashes me a true smile. “Zelle, dear, sit down. Thomas is my second eldest son. He can take care of you until the two Reapers are back.”

I nod, a little confused as I take a seat at the bar. “You said they are… hunting?”

“Raymundo was a prized hunter once,” she explains, cocking her head to one side. “I suppose, in his own way, Zarev was too. Oh, but don’t worry! Zarev is just helping my boy since he got the two of you back from the middle of Sherwood. They always stay out late. I’m sure he can answer all of your questions when he’s back.”

Thomas shoves a mug in front of me, winking before sliding further down the bar. “I… I’m sorry. Where am I? I thought I would see Zarev by now.”

Dahlia gives me an understanding look, and when she pats my hand it’s the most motherly gesture I’ve ever received. “Don’t worry, poppet. He’ll be back soon. Thought you would sleep a little longer. He said you two got into quite a bit of trouble with the Flowerborne.”

There we go, a little information. “Flowerborne?”

Thomas clears his throat further down the counter, and when I glance behind me several people stare.

Dahlia’s warm grip touches my arm. “Come in the back, dear. Tom! You come and find us if Zarev shows up before we’re back.”

“Aye, Mum!”

I grab the mug in a bit of a daze, and Dahlia pulls me to my feet. “Come now,” Dahlia urges, “best we talk back here.” I’m trying to observe the place as we move, looking around at framed photos high up on the walls, plaques, horns mounted above a large fireplace, and even more maps hung up around the room.

She takes me to an office, and my guard goes up. I loiter in the doorway, staring. The last time I walked into a strange house people… or flowers… tried to eat me. She doesn’t look offended as she digs through a desk for a moment before sitting on a squeaky chair.

Dahlia’s smile is genuine when she looks back. “Don’t fret, love. Zarev wouldn’t abandon you to anyone. I’ve just got to find it…”

Her voice trails off, and I glance around the room. It’s the same homey feeling as back at the bar, except there’s no boisterous laughter or children running around. There are still maps, some types of articles hung on the wall, and books…

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