Page 43 of The Crown of a Fallen Queen
“Any special request?” Lori asks.
I bend down to grab one leg of the cushioned ottoman at the foot of the bed. “Do your best.”
Dragging the velvety piece of furniture in front of the large free-standing mirror, I sit on it, offering her easy access to my head. She starts with my makeup, pairing smoky cat eyes with dark red lipstick.
“May I?” Lori motions to my hair next, and I give her a quick nod. She bites her bottom lip and tentatively reaches for my red locs, running her fingers through them to familiarize herself with their texture.
Her lids drop, and magic prickles across the sensitive skin of my scalp. The locs unravel and twist back together, the process taking no more than a minute. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and draw in a sharp breath.
My hair is now styled in tight, precise micro braids. Hundreds of them, small as thread. Just the way Iris usedto style them. The weightlessness of them is so eerie and yet familiar. Their luscious glide over my shoulders when I turn my head feels like a kiss from beyond. The way they whisper against my skin twists my heart.
I haven’t styled my hair this way in more than fifty years.
Percy stirs awake on the windowsill and lets out an audible gasp. “Oh my…”
“Does it look wrong?”
Lori pulls her shaky hands away, and I meet her gaze in the reflective glass. “No. No, it looks justright,” I say softly.
Her hands fall to my shoulders, and she gives them a soft squeeze, but just as I’m about to address Iris directly—to reach her inside the body of a stranger—she slips back out of reach.
Lori’s tear-filled eyes dart to the ground, and she jolts away from me, clearly spooked by the phenomenon. “I— I wouldn’t know where to start with a gown… But I’ll bring you one. And other clothes, too. Just wait.” She rushes out of the room, the shadows around her almost palpable.
I sit on the ottoman for a moment, feeling vulnerable, helpless, and simply…bereft.
Percy perches on my shoulder and caresses the shell of my ear. “I love you,diamantay.”
Tears glass over my eyes, and Percy opens his mouth to add something, but a soft knock at the door is quickly followed by the creak of the hinges. In her haste, Lori didn’t close the door all the way, and an elegantly dressed Seth steps inside my bedroom, oblivious to what just transpired.
Sin dipped in velvet, his midnight-black coat highlights the shape of his shoulders, the collar high enough to frame that chiseled jaw I’ve already stared at for too long. His waistcoat is decorated with gold brocade, and the crisp white of his shirt opens just enough at the collar to make my pulse skip, revealing the shape of a rectangular, metallic pendant. No cravat, noapology. Just him, standing there like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
I turn my back to the thick white door to hide the tears.
Percy braces both hands on his hips and stares down the intruder. “You, again.”
“Afternoon, Perce.” His voice grows louder as he draws closer. “I came for a preview of your Mistress’ splendid ballgown. I’ve heard wonders about her capabilities.”
“Bet you could do better, right?” Percy cracks, goading him and buying me a bit of time.
I stare out the window and force my eyes to widen, keeping the tears from spilling out. I haven’t cried in decades, and now twice in two days? What the fuck is wrong with me?
“I might,” Seth says with humor. “I’ve got style.”
I arch a brow, spinning my problem on its head. “Then prove it. Make me a dress, pretty boy.”
“You’d let me dress you?” he murmurs behind me.
“Why not?” I shrug as though it’s no big deal and walk over to him, the tears all dried up.
“Isn’t that toocontrolling?” he says in jest, one brow arched. He clearly thinks there’s a catch, but he’s also hooked on the idea.
“Are you chicken?”
The playful taunt hangs between us, our gazes locked until Percy clears his throat, inches from my ear.Shit.I’d completely forgotten that my Faeling was still on my shoulder, and my cheeks warm.
Percy flies off in a hurry. “I’ll be back in a jiffy, lovebirds. I need to look my best to remind Byron what he’s missing.”
“Take your time.” I wave goodbye, not looking away from Seth, waiting for Percy to be out of earshot before I ask again. “Tongue tied, pretty boy?”
