Page 57 of Royal Captive
“Do you like it here?” I tried.
“Lord Vlaylon has given me the honor of High Tailor. He chose my husband and I above all others,” she said proudly, then clucked with disapproval at the few inches of ankle left showing above the dress’s skirt.
“I can add to it. Next dress.”
I pulled it over my head and she snatched it from me before I could drop it, already holding out the next dress with matching knit stockings. As I pulled them on, I tried a different tactic.
“What if you didn’t want to be a tailor anymore? What if you wanted to do something else?”
Jeni snorted, eyeing me with amusement. “And what else would I do? I am trained to be a tailor, so I am a tailor.” She shook her head like I was a child babbling nonsense. “High Tailor.”
I kept quiet then, just wanting it to be over.
I couldn’t reconcile the dead bodies of Ellis’s family in my mind with these content, willing slaves before me. How was thisthe same murderous fae society that threw us all into death games for their entertainment?
Outside of the shop, children raced past the windows, pointed ears mixing with rounded ones. Fae, humans, and half-breeds all mingled without discrimination here. They were happy and thriving.
What was going on?
I resolved to find out.
Eighteen
EVE
My growling stomach must have offended Calten’s sensibilities, because we were at the silversmith’s shop debating between the merits of a rounded buckle versus a square (I couldn’t follow the conversation at all) when he threw them both back into the pile in dismay.
“We will take both! Deliver them to Prince Shyllon’s manor to my attention. If I have to continue to hear that sound for another moment, I’ll lose my mind!”
Calten jerked his hand at me and I followed, leaving a chuckling owner and my ears burning.
“I’m sorry! I haven’t eaten much.”
My protests disappeared as we crossed a busy street, dodging horses, carts, and throngs of other shoppers. It was just like at home, except carriages and carts stopped and waited for those walking on the streets as if they had all the time in the world.
Calten gestured to a small cafe that even had tables outside on the sidewalk. “Don’t apologize. You are a heartily sized girlwho has been through a lot. I sometimes let the art of haggling take over. If you are hungry, you may simply say so.”
My nose wrinkled as I wondered how many more times someone here would mention my size. Though the more it was brought up, the more I realized it wasn’t meant as a barb or insult. It just was.
We sat down at an iron wrought table with matching chairs.
“Anything tickle your fancy?” Calten asked, even as a young girl approached our table, her hands folded in her lap and her brown hair in an intricate, braided bun.
My lips parted, but nothing came out. I didn’t even know where to begin. Was it the same food we had back home, or other fae delicacies I’d never had before?
Calten rolled his eyes and addressed the girl. “I think we’ll do two meat pies, but leave out the sauce on hers.”
Meat pies sounded amazing, but the second part confused me. Surely we wouldn’t get dry bread with hunks of meat in it, would we?
The girl’s eyes slid to me, then back to Calten, who raised an eyebrow and narrowed his eyes at her. She wilted under his scrutiny and scurried off.
Two tables down from us, a cloaked figure took a seat and sat. It was impossible to tell if he or she was staring at me from underneath their hood, but it certainly felt like it. They were covered head to toe, no skin peeking out and touching the chair or the table.
A mug hit the table in front of me, a welcome distraction.
Calten raised his mug toward me, then took a deep draught. It smelled like ale. I hated ale on a general principle, thanks to my father and the other lords who always walked around reeking of it.
I let my mug sit.
