Page 70 of A Fate so Cruel

And the earrings. The merchant had indeed finished them.

Her smile faded. “Is it too much?”

“No,” he said a little too fast. “It’s . . . perfect.” And gods, he meant it.

That smile returned and Rion never wanted it to fade.

She hadn’t needed to ask. She knew exactly what she looked like and the response she’d get from him and other males.

Selina pointed to a jacket laid out across the bed. “I purchased you a few things too, since everyone is pretty much terrified of you. I think I got the sizes right.”

He hadn’t even thought—he needed to get himself together. They had a job to do. Rion tore his gaze from her and gave Selina a wide berth as he circled the bed.

“We can’t have you looking like, well . . . that,” she gestured to him, “when you’re supposed to be on vacation with your new girlfriend.” The term made his heart leap into his throat.A mission. A mission. A mission, he kept repeating.

Rion picked up the black button-up shirt and matching pants. The opposite to her white. A balance in the universe. Maybe when they returned to Nàdair, Rion would ask to court her. She’d promised to introduce him to other females, but standing in this room, with her dressed like that, Rion decided he didn’t want other females. He wanted her. If she’d have him.

He draped the garments over his arm and turned toward the bathroom. “I’ll be out in a second.”

“Your hair.”

He half-turned. “What about it?”

Selina did nothing to hide her grimace. “When was the last time you cut it?” He shrugged and she sighed. “I thought so.” She pulled a pair of scissors from the drawer beside the bed.

Rion stepped back, all thoughts of courting gone in an instant. “You arenotcutting my hair.”

“Relax, I’ve cut lots of hair. I won’t mess it up.” She stepped forward and Rion retreated, his lips curling back before he loosed a soft snarl. She paused and stared at the sand rising between them.

Selina sighed again. “Killing you with a pair of scissors wouldn’t be a very epic story, you know.”

“I don’t care.”

“Fine.” She tossed the sharp object and Rion caught them by the handle. “Cut your own hair.” She turned away and he relaxed a fraction. “I’m in an expensive dress, you know; staining it with blood isn’t exactly high on my priority list.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, Rion closed the door to the bathroom and breathed deep. Images of Caol flashed through his mind. Images of his father. He beat the ghosts into submission and leaned against the counter.

His reflection stared back. Judgment filled those green eyes. Judgment and the stain of everything he’d ever done, his fault or no.

Rion looked away.

It took him thirty minutes to finish his hair. He dusted the strands off his arms and neck, then dressed in the clothes Selina had purchased for him. He’d pay her back later. Or Alec would. He was certain Selina was the type to count every penny spent on anyone other than herself.

When he exited, Selina was seated on the bed, her ankles crossed as she flipped through the book he’d been reading earlier. She held it up. “What is this atrocity?”

“A book on strategy and the way—”

She held up a hand. “A nonfiction reader. Enough said.” She stood and moved closer to examine him. “Not bad. The back is a little uneven though.”

“It’s fine.” He seriously doubted anyone would be paying much attention to his hair.

Selina shrugged and picked up a tiny white and gold trimmed bag, the strap a thin piece of leather, before draping it over her shoulder. “Shall we?”

He relaxed his facial features and donned the mask of the male he was to play tonight. Not that it was much of a mask. Selina earned more than a few glances as they descended the stairs that had Rion snarling softly in warning. She patted his shoulder and when they exited, Rion extended his arm like a gentleman.

Selina gave a warm smile, a show for those currently gaping on the streets, and slid her arm through his.

The sun was still high overhead, the heat a bit unpleasant with his long sleeves.

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