He spurred into action, grabbing my things and laying them over the couch. I tried to remember how Flavia had positioned my dress yesterday. It was complicated with drapes and layers of material, but I struggled into the first part with minimal elegance. The second part got stuck over my face, the material squishing my nose and pulling tight across my ears.
“Please pull it down!” I garbled through the silk stretched across my mouth, my arms stuck midair from the material around my elbows. I couldn’t open my eyes to see anything at all, but I heard a footfall nearby. “Pull it down.” I tried again in case he hadn’t heard.
His chuckle was very close. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t quite hear you.”
Didn’t he understand how serious this situation was? “Pull. It. Down. Now.”
The backs of his fingers brushed against the soft skin of my upper arms as he pulled the material down. A shiver ran across my skin in response.
I wasn't prepared for his nearness as the material fell free from my face. My heart stumbled from the shock. His smirk was almost a grin—he would only have to lean forward a few inches to kiss me. My treacherous eyes flickered to his lips.
He broke the moment with a snort. “You look even worse now. Your hair is floating with static.”
“Ethen, you’re not helping.” I turned to the mirror to adjust the second layer of silk.
He folded his arms. “I think I’m being very helpful actually, since otherwise, you would still be held prisoner by your own dress.”
I ignored him and undid what little of my braid was left, yanking the brush through my tangled waves. Ethen was right—it really was a mess. Flavia often sprayed my hair with something before combing it, but I had no idea what she used.
Ethen came up behind me and rested a hand on one shoulder. My breath caught despite my stress. “Don’t panic. Let me help you. You put on your earrings and bracelets. I’ll brush your hair.”
I didn’t argue. He took the golden hairbrush as I reached for the jewelry on the sofa and fiddled with the clasps, struggling to pry them free.
Ethen’s voice was like a cool, calm stream. “Purity, calm down. It’s going to be all right. I already made an excuse for you.” He held the top of my hair and started to tug out the knots at the bottom with the brush. The gentle pressure on my scalp was strangely comforting. I noticed I was blushing in the mirror as his hand swept across the base of my neck to gather more hair. Goose bumps prickled my skin in response.
I cleared my throat and returned my attention to the clasp on my bracelet. “And what excuse is that?”
He moved the brush farther up my hair, continuing the gentle tugs. “A maid has already delivered a message she believes is from you giving the prince your deepest apologies and saying you will be there shortly. I said Flavia fell and hit her head, and so, you are putting her to bed and healing her with your Blessing.”
I bit my lip. “Is that excuse going to work?”
He shrugged. “It was the best I could come up with. The fact she happens to be unconscious helps us. I was expecting her to need to fake it.”
I snapped the bracelet into place. “Can’t I just tell him the truth and say I was drugged, presumably by another jealous Grace?”
Ethen’s face darkened. “I don’t think that is wise. Accusing people without solid evidence of who was behind it has a habit of coming back to bite you here. Others could say you fabricated the whole thing to gain sympathy after oversleeping to blame it on somebody else. Sometimes it is best to just let these things go and unnerve your opponent with how well you continue. Then we wait for them to make a worse mistake.”
I gritted my teeth. It was frustrating, but he was probably right. I finished my jewelry just as he pulled the hairbrush smoothly from roots to tips. “You have such beautiful hair,” he murmured, almost to himself. “There are so many shades of gold within it. The way it catches the light is mesmerizing.”
He paused, his hand suspended in midair, still holding the brush. I couldn’t help but focus on his palm in the mirror. My eye moved up from his wrist to the fleshy base where a faint and small white scar was visible. Exactly the same place he had cut his hand during the vows in my dream.My memory.
I had been so happy.
But now was not the time for me to reflect on that. I focused back on my hair as he set down the brush. I didn’t have the time or skill for a fancy style, so I merely let it fall loose around my shoulders and down my back. Constance often wore hers without adornment, so I shouldn’t stand out.
I quickly rubbed some rouge onto my lips and darkened my eyelids with kohl. Ethen stepped back with his arms folded, assessing me up and down. “I think you’re ready enough. You should go alone, but I won’t be far. Remember to smile a lot. He likes smiling.”
I raised an eyebrow at his tip, but he was already striding away to lower himself from my balcony. I drew in a deep breath and left the room, hurrying down to the inner courtyard. I hoped I could guess the way without Flavia’s instruction since I had never been there before.
Two Amazones stood guard and I sensed disapproval as I passed between them. I kept my head high, but even with my excuse, being late to see the prince was not good—not good at all.
A single table was laid out next to a wide pool of rainwater, covered in stunning mosaics. Sebastian sat with his back to me. In the chair opposite him was Charity, her eyes widening in shock and surprise at my arrival. How dare she take my place.
I stopped in my tracks, immediately suppressing my anger before I broke something expensive. I concentrated instead on the far more powerful emotions I had felt when Ethen kissed me. The feel of his hands on my neck when he had brushed my hair. The intimacy of his touch.
Beside me, a bird burst into song and two spiraling butterflies swirled around my hair. I resumed walking and ignored Charity completely.
Sebastian smiled and stood when I came into view. “Purity, are you all right?”