Page 32 of The Dark Mage
By late morning, they reached Delmor, a small village with whitewashed buildings that gleamed in the sunshine.She couldn’t stop staring at the streets lined with shops and homes and content, smiling townspeople.Even as she hid her magic deep inside herself, a warm wave of peace engulfedher.
The inn was the same whitewashed stone, with glass-paned windows.A small sign declared it the Delmor Inn, and she followed Fael inside, keeping him between herself and the innkeeper’s eyes.She couldn’t help but feel nervous, fearing the man behind the desk might deem her unfit tostay.
The innkeeper looked twice but didn’t balk at Ren’wyn’s disheveled state.Fael commented on the inn’s tidiness, complimenting the innkeeper before securing two second-floor rooms.He escorted her upstairs, allowing her to choose a room first despite her protests.
“I’ll be back soon with food,” he said.“Relax for a while.”
She could have wept with joy at being indoors.Her room was cozy—a small mattress in the corner on an unadorned frame, a washbasin perched on the dresser, a pitcher full of clear water, and a stack of linen cloths for washing.Setting her pack by the footboard, she rolled up her shredded sleeves and set to washing her face and neck.Using the bar of soap, she scrubbed her arms and hands, watching the water in the basin turn from clear to dark gray.Ren’wyn shuddered.
Then, she climbed into bed.Small, cheap, and perfect—it had no roots or dirt or mosquitoes, just a firm mattress and a little pillow.Time passed quietly, the sounds of carts and animals outside broken by snippets of conversation and children’s laughter.The smell of bread filtered in from the hallway.Hopefully, that meant lunch wassoon.
A soft knock startled her, sending her heart racing.She tamped down the shadows spreading from her hands and feet, reminding herself she was safe here.Shaking the tension from her shoulders, she opened the door toFael.
Or was it Fael?Damp hair curled at his nape, his skin glowed clean and bright, and loose, cream-colored clothing—short-sleeved and free of adornment—gave him the appearance of a local.
“You look like you could use a bath,” he said, cocking an eyebrow.She blushed at her disheveled state.“It turned out I needed onetoo.”
When he chuckled at himself, she couldn’t help grinning back.She spun lightly, as though showing off her current condition.
“I think I should be offended?”she said with a giggle.
“Very offended, milady,” Fael replied, sketching a mock bow.“I ordered a bath for your room, and I brought you these for after.”
He handed her a small, paper-wrapped package.Inside was a light cream dress in the local style.Beneath it was something that made her face and neck flood with heat.Fael had purchased undergarments forher.
He had looked at undergarments at the store.
She couldn’t meet his eyes, couldn’t breathe, her blush creeping to her chest.
“Don’t get any ideas,” Fael said, and she heard the smirk in his voice.“I asked the shop owner for all the necessities, and he wrappedthem.”
Her chest eased, though part of her was… disappointed?No, that couldn’t be.She loved—had loved—Esrin, and romantic entanglements brought nothinggood.
No, I am not disappointed that Fael didn’t buy the undergarments personally.
She almost believed herself.
“Thank you,” shesaid.
“Join me for lunch?When you’redone?”
“Of course,” she agreed.
He handed her a roll and a small wedge of cheese.“To hold youover.”
Two girls arrived carrying buckets of steaming water, and Ren’wyn thought she might die of happiness as they filled a large, metal basin.She washed with lemon-scented soap, scrubbing her hair as hard as possible before adding oils to soften it.The hot water soothed her travel-weary muscles.
She soaked until the water cooled, then toweled herself dry.The undergarments were strange—nothing like her familiar boned bodices.Designed for practicality, the top piece stayed hidden beneath the single-strapped dress and was tight enough to support her heavy chest.After some trial and error, she found they fit well enough.
Once dressed, she stood staring at her reflection in the mirror.Her left shoulder and arm were exposed—far more skin than she had ever bared.
Vair’s insidious, sneering voice whispered in her mind:Why can’t you wear the blue dress, Ren’wyn?The one that makes you look acceptablythin.
Straightening her shoulders, she reminded herself that she wielded death—she could face wearing this dress.Everyone here wore this style; no one would look twice.She tossed her grimy boned bodice away—too filthy to salvage—but set her tattered blue dress aside, feeling oddly sentimental.She would wash and repack it.
The loose skirt tickled her legs, and she relished the air on her arms.The belt around her natural waist felt odd, as Territorian styles usually placed the waistline at the hips.Fiddling with it for the hundredth time, she took a fortifying breath and headed downstairs.
Fael relaxed in the front window seat, the sunlight illuminating the planes of his face.She liked seeing him at ease.When she cleared her throat, he opened his eyes.His molten hazel gaze swept over her, pupils dilating as his jaw worked.Her stomach clenched at the heat in his eyes, and for a moment, she thought that fire could consume her whole.
