Page 39 of Deadwood
“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked.
“You don’t look very…” I wasn’t sure what to say. We weren’t close enough for me to say he looked unkempt.
“It’s my style. No need to be worried.”
I snorted. “Style?”
From my peripheral, I saw the corner of his mouth tick up as he fought a smile. We had to act as if people were watching constantly. Our images were our families’ images.
“Just as you have a style of being rebellious,” he said.
I shook my head, snuffling my laugh. “I’d hardly call wearing a white dress rebellious.”
“Is white your favorite color?” he asked.
I nearly tripped on my skirts.
He looked at me before facing forward again. “Was that the wrong thing to ask?”
I gave a shake of my head. “Sorry, no. It’s not that. I’ve just never thought of it that way.”
“That you abhor garnet so much that you’d rather wear no color at all?”
“White is a color.”
“A rather bland one,” he muttered, a light lilt to his voice.
My mouth popped open. “If it was my favorite, you’ve just insulted it.”
He dramatically set a palm over his heart. “My sincerest apologies, Lady Auria. I most certainly didn’t mean to insult your favorite color.”
I rolled my eyes and smiled, not caring to hide it this time. “I’m sure.”
We approached the town square where people were gathered, a wooden dais sitting in the center of the crowd. Fabrics of every color popped among the people, oranges and purples, pinks and blues, and once again, I found myself envying them. It wasn’t just the clothes—it was their freedom to express themselves. I longed for that, in any way I could get it. The comforting scent of cinnamon and sugar wafted through the air, likely from a nearby bakery. I could nearly taste the sweet pastry. It made me think of Taylin and all the baked goods we used to steal bites of, whether from her mother or her smuggling one for me during our visit.
I tamped down the nostalgia. She wouldn’t want me to spend my time missing home. She’d rather I enjoy this small bit of freedom I was offered, so that’s what I’d do.
Through the crowd, I couldn’t find King and Queen Alline. I guessed Lander wasn’t able to spot them either by the tight set of his mouth.
“The speech, my lady,” a guard said, coming up beside me to hand me a rolled parchment.
I took the paper, unfolding it and glancing at the words. I’d read them at least a hundred times in the carriage, but no matter how many times I recited it, the words didn’t feel like something I’d say. I supposed that was the point of my father’s advisor writing it and not me.
“Thank you.”
I shoved aside my feelings for the letter and pasted on a smile. Lander and I were to be married, and we had to look strong in our union if this was to work. Whateverthiswas.
Lander held out a hand to assist me up the step onto the low wooden platform. As we stood in front of the crowd, a bead of sweat rolled down my temple. It wasn’t hot by any means with the breeze rolling through, but my body was warm with the coverage this dress provided, my chest pressing against the binds of my bodice with every breath.
On the opposite side of the dais, King and Queen Alline stepped up, finally presenting themselves. When our gazes met, they both gave a dip of their chin, their bronze crowns perched atop his white hair and her black as night locks glistening in the midday sun. Their clothing was various shades of yellow—their kingdom’s color. Queen Alline’s vibrant sunshine dress had short sleeves, showing off the deep brown skin of her arms. Beside her, her husband’s suit was a darker shade than her gown, the top two buttons undone to show a sliver of his brown chest. They were nearly identical in height, both tall and lean. Both equally as beautiful.
King Alline’s lips were pressed into a tight line, judgment clear as day in the way he watched us, while the queen set a hand on her round belly and nodded at me, signaling me to start.
I looked out at the people standing before us. With the makeshift stage raised only a few inches off the ground and my short height combined, I could see only the first few rows of people standing shoulder to shoulder. The rest disappeared behind them, though the crowd wasn’t massive, indicating most of the town hadn’t bothered to show up. For some reason, the knowledge that not everyone had come made me more nervous, feeling as if this was all a joke to them. Likely, it was, but I had no choice but to follow orders.
I held the parchment in front of me, scanning the words. “People of Sulphur. We are here to put your worries to rest,” I started.
“Bullshit,” a bulky man with brown skin said from the front of the crowd.
