Page 97 of Unrivaled
“How guilty will I look if I saddle Storm and leave this all behind?”I asked Isolde.
“Very.”
I sighed and changed course, taking a side-corridor toward the kitchens.I was practiced at feigning ignorance.A steppe cat might not have needed that skill, but this one didn’t want to fight on too many fronts at once.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-SIX
AUDREY
A flower growing in the wrong place is a weed.
—La’Angi saying
8thDay of Summer’s Wife Moon,
Age of the Locways, Year 272
La’Angi Keep
Daniel’s body was barely cold when Sullivan rode out.He was remembered, unfortunately, by the men he left behind.In the span of a day, Isolde had numerous reports from staff who’d been propositioned, some teary-eyed accounts of coercion, and far too many tales of their heavy-handed excitement to be home.
Sullivan’s eyes had been everywhere when he’d been present.What he was going to report, I hated to think.Meanwhile, I was grateful we’d had so long to retrain the existing guard to accept they couldn’t demand bribes or sex at every whim.Not that I’d done much except support Kaelson.
Isolde had been a little more hands-on, I suspected, but I hadn’t actually asked.
I spotted Luca on my way back to my tower after Kaelson had been called away from our drills.With my belly full, body tired, head overflowing with Kaelson’s singular drill and all the gossip about Daniel’s apparently natural death.
My outlawed ex-betrothed slunk out of the shadows long enough that I couldn’t easily pretend not to see him.
“I hear your day was complicated again,” Luca said.“I stopped by your tower, but you were out.I’m sure you’re tired.Can we try tomorrow?”
I had no idea if I’d want to see him tomorrow, but he was right, I was exhausted.Grateful for the reprieve, I accepted his offer without a moment of guilt.
Chay still wasn’t back to normal the next morning, but there wasn’t much I could do to make him feel better.It wasn’t like I’d been opening my door to Luca at every opportunity.Ididn’ttrust him.If he was a rebel—the mere thought was ridiculous—he was the worst Arcanloc had ever seen.Regardless, he certainly wasn’t someone I’d turn to unless I had no other option.
“Well come, my lady,” the talkative tailor said, smiling at both Sandra and I before stepping back so we could enter.Today the tailor’s ribbons were pink and yellow.
“Thanking you.”I let her usher us in.
Her roommate stood beside a steaming pot, tarts on a plate proving she’d been begging Bernadette.They were a hot commodity.I’d had to look through my filed correspondence to find the note Fiona had sent me to discover their names.One of them was Matilda.The other was Ivy.The Stitcher mage was Amber, and she was Matilda’s sister.I suspected “Ribbons” was Matilda, going off her resemblance to Amber, but I wasn’t sure.
While I was second-guessing that, I let them guide me through the social tos and fros, taking some herbal tisane, accepting a small slice of tart despite being full.I expected some discussion of the weather or yesterday’s upheaval.
Instead, Ribbons sat on the edge of her seat and leant forward, eyes intent.“I know you’re busy.Matilda and I talked about what you said, about wanting to create trends.Are you thinking something small, or something large?”
I wished Yasmine was here, suddenly.I didn’t have many people my age to talk to, and fewer who understood the pressure.
Therightanswer was that I didn’t care.I was bold enough to carry off anything.It was true, to a point.There was no one’s gaze I wanted to catch that I hadn’t already.I’d had people look at me with longing while wearing elaborate gowns, sweat-soaked training clothes, and nothing at all.I didn’t think it really mattered.
But it did.I needed to come across as rich and powerful.I couldn’t magically make myself classically beautiful, but I wasn’t too plain, and that was good enough.
“I don’t care if it’s big or small,” I told them, leery of the excitement I could feel.“But I’ll warn you, I got my build from my father.”
“Oh.”Ribbons, who must’ve been Ivy, blinked.“We meant big or small changes, m’lady, not garments.A small change might be a different neckline, or an unusual palette.A big change would be an entirely different cut, from toe to crown.”
I took a sip of my tea.Normal misunderstanding.No problem.I nodded, but the different benefits of the options before me were my main focus.A small change would raise less eyebrows.A large change, if it wassuccessful,would drive sales.Sales would bring in money.Money in the hands of the people doing the work would improve quality of life.
“I’m happy for a major change from what’s fashionable,” I told them.“As long as whatever you create is appropriate for my station.”
