Page 137 of Kissed By the Gods
“I don’t want to talk about Ryot.”
“Funny. He said the same thing about you.”
I wave a hand in the air. “Just drop it.”
We walk in silence a bit longer. Thalric waits until we reach Elowen’s door. “You know, he slept in the hallway in front of your room last night. Something about not leaving you unguarded.”
My mouth slides open, but no words escape. Thalric shoots me a sly grin before he knocks on Elowen’s door. She opens it almost immediately, always prepared for a late-night injury or illness.
“Hi, Elowen,” I say, a genuine smile spreading across my face.
“Leina!” she says, her eyes catching on a bruise at the opening of my robe. “Ohh,” she says. “You poor dear. Internal bleeding? Can you head into the first room? I need to get some supplies.”
“Actually,” I hedge. “My emergency is less health related and more—” I gesture to my simple robe “—style related. Can I borrow a dress?”
Her eyebrows zing upward, surprise lighting across her face. “Oh.” Her eyes widen and she claps her hands, excited. “Oh! How fun. Come in, come in.”
She ushers us into her little apartment.
“Are we impressing Ryot?” she asks, her voice in a low whisper. Thalric smirks again.
“What? No!” I stutter. “We’re impressing the … we’re going to the Crimson Feather,” I finish lamely, blushing as I say it out loud. Am I really doing this?
“Oh.” Her excitement dims, but then she brightens just as quickly. “The Crimson Feather is so much fun! And you need a night of fun.”
Why would the princess have been to a brothel?
Thalric has taken up his standard pose—leaning against the door with one foot crossed over the other. “I’m sure Ryot will join us eventually,” he drawls, “about the time he discovers Leina’s not passed out in her chamber from exhaustion.” He raises an eyebrow at Elowen in a question. “Though I’m not entirely sure we should be encouraging this.”
Elowen waves his concerns away, as she studies me. “It will be fine,” she says. “They both need a little distraction in their sad little lives.”
“Hey!” I protest.
Thalric shakes his head dismissively. “There’s no offense to it. We all lead sad little lives here, don’t we, Elowen?” He says it with more than a little bit of bitterness, and my heart breaks for him.
Elowen, too, looks beaten down. Then she forces a smile. “None of that, Thalric,” she says. “Tonight is a night for distraction.” She goes into another chamber, mumbling under her breath. “She’s so short.”
“I heard that!” I call out to her.
“That’s because you can hear everything!” She starts rummaging through a closet, the whispery sound of rustling fabrics proving her point.
Thalric turns to me while she’s gone. “There’s a fine line between distraction and catastrophe. Let’s avoid the latter, shall we?”
I hold my hands up in the air, in a sign of surrender. “I will cause no trouble. Not even a slight mishap.”
He rolls his eyes at me. “I doubt that.” But Elowen emerges before he can say anything else. She’s holding a gown made of the finest silk, with a delicate weave of gossamer threads that glints between an emerald green and deep gold as the fabric shifts.
“I’m much taller than you, so you need one of my mid-thigh lengths, which doesn’t leave us with a lot of options. But I think this one might work.”
I reach hesitant fingers forward and brush them against the cool fabric. It’s so fine it’s almost intangible. I’ve never seen or felt anything so slippery soft. I gulp a little. “I couldn’t borrow something so … so expensive. Could I wear one of your day dresses? Maybe the blue one?”
She shakes her head, her long blonde hair falling into her face as she does. “You won’t want to wear a day dress to the Crimson Feather. Besides, this shade of green doesn’t work wellfor me, and it’s been years since I’ve even had a need for it. I don’t know why I keep all these dresses—I don’t go anywhere anymore.”
She presses it into my hands. “Go change,” she commands, regally. “Use the bathing chamber through there.” She wrinkles her nose. “Bathe first. You stink.”
“I don’t doubt that,” I agree. I clasp her hands. “Thank you.”
I slip into her dressing room in a bit of a daze. I’m impressed by the expansive nature of her suite. The bathing chamber is immense, much larger than one person needs. I lay the stunning gown on a bench, and then undress before sinking into the warm, spring-fed bathing pool with a groan. Elowen walks in with tentative steps, her eyes closed, and sets a bar of soap on the edge.
