Page 107 of The First Spark
As always, she couldn’t tell if he was making a joke or being serious. She settled for bowing her head politely.
“Ancestors, what are you wearing?” Theron sniffed and snapped his fingers. A Praetor scurried to his side. “Have a maid retrieve clothes for my sister. There’s no way you’re walking around the palace in that.”
Kalie’s cheeks heated as she looked down at Zane’s baggy sweatshirt. She’d had to roll the huge sweatpants up to the knee.
“My dress was a casualty of my escape.”
“And the only clothes on the market were your guard’s?” Theronglanced across the hall to Zane’s room. “What’s the nature of your relationship with him?”
Not even a minute in, and she already wanted to strangle him.
Kalie took a deep breath, thanking the gods for the regenerator that had healed her ribs. “I trust him with my life.”
“That’s not what I was asking.”
I don’t need a meddling brother, was what she wanted to say, but unfortunately, she did need him. “We’re friends. Nothing more. How’s Sadini?”
Theron’s eyes narrowed at her obvious deflection. “She’s on bedrest. Our daughter’s due any day now.”
“Have you picked a name for my niece?”
Brushing lint off his sleeve, he lowered himself into one of the plush armchairs. “We chose one last week, but we’re reconsidering.”
“Oh? Do I get to hear it?”
“No.”
Delightful as ever. How her lively sister-in-law put up with him, she’d never know.
Kalie’s stomach rumbled loudly. Her cheeks flushed, but Theron didn’t comment. Nor did he motion for her to keep eating. If not for his razor-sharp gaze, she would’ve thought he was lost in his own world. Most of his vassals made that mistake.
A maid bustled into the room, red-faced and breathless, holding a tight scarlet dress. “For the Princess, Your Supreme Highness.”
Theron flicked a hand towards a hook on the wall. As the maid hung it up, the plunging v-neck bodice and the slits up the thighs were painfully visible. It was Etov’s style, fiery and provocative.
Kalie started to protest, but Theron stared at her, impassive as ever. His chin rested on his hand. It was a tell she’d picked up on long ago. He was studying her.
The dress was a test. Of what, she didn’t know.
Plastering on a smile, she seized the hangar. “This will do. Thank you.”
The maid bowed deeply and rushed off.
“We don’t have much use for Dalian things here.” Theron’s lips flattened. “I’ll wait outside.”
Kalie glowered at the door as it shut behind him.
Shimmying into the form-fitting gown was a test of patience without a maid’s help. Kalie wrinkled her nose. Wide slits in the flowy sleeves exposed her bruised arms, and the slits of the skirt revealed pink patches of newly-mended skin running up her legs. By Etovian standards, the exposed skin was flattering. Itwasflattering—the tight bodice hugged her curves, and the burgundy fabric paired well with her hair—but that was the problem.
Sighing, Kalie trudged to the door. After a day lounging in the warmth and comfort of Zane’s baggy clothes, she missed them.
Theron waited in the hallway. “I’ll take you to your room. We’ll talk there.”
“Talk about what?”
He marched away, flanked by Praetors clad in crimson. Kalie huffed. As he led her out of the hospital wing, into a hallway of red marble, she doubled her pace to keep up.
A chandelier of candles glowed above them, flickering across the walls, but the hall was dark. Kalie rolled her eyes. That was the paradox of Etov—the Empire was obsessed with flaunting its wealth and advancement, but they’d worshiped fire for eons, so they clung to candles and chandeliers of flame.
