Page 48 of Thorns & Fire
She eyed the gown Kipp had selected and approached it, vowing that when she dressed, she would dress for war.
‘You look beautiful,’ Wren told Dessa, who was twirling before the full-length mirror in a strapless black gown, her tulle skirts swishing.
‘As do you,’ Dessa replied.‘But can Ipleasepaint your lips and line your eyes?You’ll bring that Warsword to his damn knees.’
Wren chuckled.‘If you insist.’
Dessa swept kohl across her eyes and painted her lips with a soft, rosy colour.Wren hardly recognized herself.Gone was her stained apron and muddied hem; instead, she was resplendent ina ballgown of emerald-green and gold, with a dramatic choker piece to match.As Kipp promised, it covered the jagged line of her telltale scar well enough, and Dessa had taken care of the newer marred flesh on her cheek with cosmetics.Fine chains rested on her breasts, which had been pushed up by an unforgiving corset.
‘Perfect!’Dessa declared.
‘Thank you,’ Wren said.‘I assume you and Kristopher will be getting up to no good this evening?’
Dessa shrugged.‘Potentially.I don’t see why we can’t workandplay.Though between you and I...I suspect our time together has nearly run its course.’
Wren’s brows shot up.‘Is that coming from you?Or him?’
Dessa sighed.‘Both?It was never going to be for ever, and right now, I think there are things bigger than us that need our attention.’
‘Have you told him this?’Wren asked.She hadn’t spoken to Kipp about Dessa; she had no idea where his head was at, but she didn’t want to see either of them hurt.
‘Not in so many words.’
‘Perhaps it’s time you did...?’Wren ventured.
‘Perhaps.’Dessa smiled.‘Not everyone is meant to stay together for ever, Wren.And I’m okay with that.’
‘Well, if you need to talk—’
‘I’ll come find you,’ Dessa replied with a wink.‘I’m going to get a drink downstairs before we leave.Do you need any more help?’
‘I’m fine.Go and enjoy yourself while you can.’
There was no way Wren could get away with wearing her usual belt of potions and poisons, but that didn’t mean she needed to attend the event unarmed.She took one of her more special vials and slid it down her cleavage, where it sat snugly.She treated her favourite hairpin to another dose of poison and secured her long tresses in place atop her head.And finally, she wrestled her skirts up and fastened a small dagger around her thigh.
‘Glad you’re not taking any chances,’ said a familiar voice from the door.
Wren nearly jumped out of her skin.‘Have you ever heard of knocking—’
But the words faded on her tongue as she took in the man before her.
She had never seen him in anything other than Warsword attire, armed to the teeth, usually covered in dust from the road or blood from a fight...Before her now stood not a battle-worn warrior, but a handsome nobleman.Half of his silver hair was swept back in a neat knot, the rest falling to his collarbones.His broad shoulders, usually obscured by bulky armour, cut a striking silhouette in a midnight-blue doublet embroidered with silver threads that matched his eyes and hair respectively.The fabric hugged his muscular frame, hinting at the strength she knew lay beneath.
Wren felt suddenly too hot, the gown too tight—
‘You can laugh if you want,’ Torj offered, the tips of his cheeks pink, his stance slightly stiff.
Wren opened her mouth to say something smart, but no retort came.‘You scrub up alright, Bear Slayer,’ she managed, sliding her feet into the fine heeled slippers Kipp had provided.
Torj’s mouth quirked to the side.‘You think?’
Wren shot a glare at him for good measure.‘Don’t let it go to your head.’
‘Too late,’ the warrior quipped with a roguish grin.
Wren forced herself to look away.‘And how are your burns?’
‘Better, thanks to you.’There was a smile in his voice that tugged at something inside her—
