Page 21 of Hostile Holiday

“You are welcome to any tome you can find, but I don’t know what you are looking for.”

“I do.” She looked around with her eyes narrowed and raised her hand. It thwacked into her palm.

“Ah. I see. Well, I will leave you to it.”

“Thank you. Is it safe to work on this in here?”

“Certainly. This is the safest place in the world for you.” He stroked her hair.

She blinked at the touch. He smiled slightly and left her to her book.

Reading a book on clothing alterations wasn’t what many would do when they had just found out that they were a cuckoo in the nest, but she read all of the options and looked down at the sweatsuit. There was plenty of fabric to use. Now, she needed to find a fashion book, and Orla walked around, holding her hand up to try and find a book with usable designs, but nothing.

She wasn’t familiar with fashion, but she guessed that the dress and robe she had worn at the other palace would be appropriate. They were certainly comfortable and warm. Orla took a deep breath and focused on the memory of the dress and robe in navy blue with sparkly stars.

Orla felt the fabric come apart and swirl around her before it settled back against her skin. She opened her left eye and then her right as she looked down. “Phew. It worked.”

She twirled around, the clothing wasn’t stuck to her in any weird way, and even her boots were midnight blue with stars. There was a knock on the door, and she turned. “Yeah?”

Yesoff came in and stared. “Oh. Well, they will be arriving soon, and Lord Winter wishes you to make an entrance. Will you return to your room for a few minutes?”

“Can I bring some books?”

“If he said you can, you can.”

“Why don’t I just stay in the library?”

Yesoff nodded. “I will let him know.”

She smiled and thought of something else she wanted to study, putting her hand up, and a book smacked into it.

Orla began to read about the history of seasons taking people as avatars. When she finished with that, she delved into Yule orgies and their purpose.

She frowned when she determined that there was some kind of summoning in all of those events. They were rarely successful,but the participants had a good time. Treatises were signed, and clans settled grievances at the events. That sort of thing happened when bloodlines crossed.

Orla was looking at a variety of summonings that had occurred in recent years and blinked when a few descriptions reminded her of people she knew. They sounded like customers at the shop.

She stood and read, and the light in the room dimmed and then got brighter. She kept reading until she understood the intricacies of the event and why she had been declared a member of her family. That was the agreement. Still her father’s daughter, despite the different male getting her mother pregnant. Warlocks were weird.

“Orla, please come with me.”

She looked up, and it was Hunter. “Oh. Okay.”

“You could have turned the light on.”

“The light went on.”

He chuckled. “The light was you.”

“Oh, shit.” She put the book down and stared at her hands. “I am going to stop that as soon as I figure out how I did that.”

He smiled. “Leave it. It will prove the point. Come, let’s meet the relatives I don’t want to kill on sight.” He paused. “Yet.”

Orla smiled. “Do I look okay?”

He stroked her hair and pulled a swath of the stuff forward over one shoulder. “Lovely. The contrast is delightful.”

She looked down and saw the white gold. “Oh, my glamour’s gone.”

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