Page 21 of The Iron Dagger
“You won’t be yourself, so it will be perfect,” she snapped. “Your vanity can surely survive a short trip.”
“It’s different at court. You’ll see when we get there,” he said, not in the least abashed. Then he sighed. “All right. We’ll dye my hair. I change the color often enough at home, anyway.”
Hara went to her store cupboard. “Take off your shirt and drape this on your shoulders,” she said, tossing him a stained linen rag. He grimaced at it, then did as she said.
Hara took some black walnut powder and poured little splashes of boiling water on it. She mixed it into a runny paste, then took up a coarse boar bristle brush and stood by his side. His shoulders were rather wider than she had thought. She tore her gaze from his lean torso and hesitantly dipped the dark paste onto his white-blonde strands.
“What color is your hair naturally?” she asked.
“Black.”
Slowly, she worked over all of his hair, carefully lifting sections and applying paste wherever a hint of pale shone through. At least this color would look natural on him.
“Does everyone at court dye their hair?” she asked.
“Most do. It’s very in-style.”
Hara imagined him at the palace, aloof and haughty with his hair dressed by a professional, glints of jewelry at his ears and hands and an expensive fur over his shoulders.
Memories of the Montag court under Ilmarinen rule were hazy. Her life was sheltered, confined to her tutors’ chambers and her mother’s spacious apartments. Her mother had dressed according to her rank as a Seer, in midnight blue robes of satin.
Hara had always thought of herself as attractive, but fashionable? She made herself pretty things if there was a good season of dyeing herbs or if she came into some fine wool, but she doubted her homemade capelets and skirts would blend in with Gideon’s lot. Idly, she wondered if people at the court would snicker at her odd looks.
“I can practically hear you judging our vanity,” Gideon said. “I just know you’re thinking how silly and superficial we are.”
“Actually, I was thinking that I’d stick out like a duck among swans,” she said softly, applying dye near his ear. She studied the way the silver of his earring glinted against his skin. For some reason, she felt self-conscious. “I make my own clothes, and I keep my hair in braids because my aunt did. I’m afraid I’m not very fashionable.”
Gideon was quiet, and the only sound was the gentle dipping of the brush into the paste. She wished he would say something, but at the same time, she hoped he wouldn’t. Whenshe finished one side and moved to the other, he turned to her and placed a light hand on her arm. She started at his touch.
“Don’t worry about what they’ll think. If you want to blend in once we arrive, I can help you. The most important thing is finding your mother.”
Warm determination filled her at his reassurance. He removed his hand and broke his gaze, turning to face forward again. She quickly applied her brush to the strands by his other ear.
As she worked, she could feel a tension in him that was impossible to ignore once she noticed it. His shoulders were rigid, and she watched the bobbing of his throat as he swallowed. Suddenly, Hara was reminded of the previous night. Perhaps he felt awkward about the charged moment they had shared.
When she came around to his front, she fixed her eyes resolutely on the roots of his hair. But while she could train her eyes, she couldn’t block the gentle heat from his breaths against her neck. It made her skin tingle pleasantly, making the tips of her breasts grow taut beneath her stays.
When she was finished with the last bit of hair at his front, she chanced a look down at his face. He was watching her mouth. Slowly, he brought his eyes up to hers.
No. Oh, no.
Hara jerked away, standing as though a ramrod had been inserted into her spine. She set the bowl down with a clatter.
“No, Gideon,” she murmured, busying herself with rinsing the bowl and brush.
“What’s wrong?”
There was no point in pretending. Gideon was not someone she wanted to play games with.
“I know what you are thinking. It’s a bad idea,” she said. “I don’t even know if I like you.”
Gideon leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked up at her with an unreadable smile as Hara tried not to notice how the hard cords of his arms created shadows in the firelight.
“Is that another power of yours? Reading thoughts?” he said.
“I don’t want to add another facet to our dealings with one another. It’s already complicated as it is. The last thing I need is for things to go sour between us in the midst of our search.”
Gideon leaned back, stretching out a leg like a lazy cat. “You’ll be shocked to know that I agree with you.”
