Page 65 of Swords and Curses

"Half Seelie." His traitorous hand reached out and covered her cool fingers. "They wouldn't dare touch you. You have nothing to fear in this house."

"Not now that you are trusting me again," she said uncertainly.

His fingers tightened. "I couldn't hurt you even if I wanted to. No one is going to hurt you again." He wanted to ask her about the scars he had seen the night he had soothed her nightmares, but she had to trust him enough to tell him herself. "You need to know that you are safe here as you once were."

"I'm not going to be safe until the queen is dead. She'll know that she's lost control over me."

"It doesn't matter, because if she thinks she can take you again, we will all be standing in her way."

Nimue didn't reply except for her fingers wrapping tighter around his.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Rosa spent the following afternoon with Nimue learning exactly how Eli had made her magical evening dress the last fateful party that Gwaed Lyn hosted.

"I still can't believe he made you a dress. When I showed him how to make clothes, he'd asked why anyone would bother," Nimue said.

"Desperate times call for exotic dresses apparently. Are you sure using magic to make dresses doesn't mean they are going to disappear at midnight?" Rosa asked.

"Of course they won't! Did your dress vanish last time?"

Rosa tried not to flinch as she thought of the tattered fabric. "It held fine until the queen ripped it from my body in front of the whole Seelie court."

Nimue pulled her into a hug, enclosing her in the smell of apples and sunshine. "One day, Rosa Wylt, we shall get our revenge on all that was done to us," she promised grimly. "Now let me show you how this dress making is done."

She put a handful of deep red rose petals, some small chips of gold flake and a tumble of black thread on the table beside her. Rosa started to laugh with girlish delight as Nimue's hands glowed with the gold of her magic.

"You start with small representational things, and you keep the image of it in your mind," Nimue instructed. The objects on the table spun together before they began to fan out into a skirt and bodice. Its skirts were layered like the petals of a rose and tipped with gold. It was a gorgeous thing that she could never dream of designing. It was going to stop Eldon's heart dead.

"This is just like in Cinderella," Rosa gushed, "except no pumpkins."

"Cinderella?"

So Rosa told Nimue fairytales as they spun everyday objects into beautiful couture dreams.

Rosa's stomachchurned with butterflies as she made her way down the steps of her tower, being extra careful not to step on the skirts of her dress.

Inspired by the changing colors of a glacier, Rosa's gown had a creamy white bodice, but as the dress dropped, the cream ran to blues, greys, lilacs, and deep purples so that the folds of her skirts looked like grooves in the ice. Her chest was encased in fine gauze that ran down her arms to end in points at her wrists. Nimue had helped her weave her hair into a side braid and pinned it up.Gaeaf Storomhad pride of place in her curls, adorned with small bursts of crystal snowflakes.

Who would've thought this is where you'd be a year ago?Rosa thought and opened the door that led into the house. She did her best to ignore the other voice in her head that demanded to know what right she had to such a life.

Out in the halls, she saw Gwaed Gam that she didn't recognize. The way they looked her over told her that the dresswas going to be a hit. She mightn't have known them, but they knew her.

Heads were inclined politely, and one or two bowed low murmuring 'princess' in various dialects. She didn't feel like a princess or a Cinderella, but when she saw Balthasar standing at the end of the hall in a crowd of Gwaed Gam, there was no doubt that he was a prince.

Balthasar hadn't seen her yet, so she took a moment to enjoy the sight of him dressed in a midnight blue three-piece suit with a black shirt and tie. He spoke animatedly with his companions, but there was no doubt that he was a warrior, and the suit was not his true uniform. Now that Rosa had seen him in his battle leathers and sword, she knew what he truly belonged in. It was easy to forget the hundreds of years of war he had seen and survived when he was dressed in a suit or focused on the brush in his hand.

Rosa had taken a step towards him when her path was blocked by a tall man with an olive Mediterranean complexion and sun-kissed chestnut hair.

"Principessa," he bowed low, blocking her path. "You're more beautiful than I imagined." He kissed her hand, and as he raised his head, she saw his eyes were a rich royal purple. He smiled charmingly, and she removed her hand from his. "May I introduce…"

"Thank you. Excuse me," Rosa said, moving away.

Balthasar's head turned at the sound of her voice, his eyes raking over her. He took her face in his hands and kissed her. It was a chaste kiss, but she felt it roll through her.

"You look…" he said, his eyes saying what he couldn't.

"Likewise," she replied, lightly touching the curve of his jaw with her fingertips.

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