Page 10 of A Witch for Solstice
She heads to her armoire, sliding the hangers of blouses and trousers aside. “Who else would it be for? You can’t go traipsingaround the castle in that flimsy thing.” I reflexively cover my breasts as she glances back at my threadbare covering. “It’s a lovely sight, and I’d like to keep it for my eyes only.”
I know she only means it for one day, but I like what those words do to me. The mothsilk unravels from my body, and I step into the heavy gown while she’s dressing. Matty clasps the gold chain running between the lapels of her black suit jacket as she turns to me.
I hold the bodice up over my chest, the laces undone. It’s not as simple as throwing a sheath dress over my head like I usually do every morning at the Academy. “I’m not sure I can get this on by myself.”
“Let me help.” Matty appears behind me, her fingers moving deftly to lace me in snugly. My skin tightens with pleasure as her claws graze my skin. “There you go.” She adjusts my sleeves. “Beautiful.”
“Itispretty.” Maybe it’s silly to act so precious over a dress, but I can’t stop myself from doing a spin. I like the way the luxurious skirt falls around my shins as I step into the fur-lined boots Matty has placed on the floor for me. I curl my toes into the plush soles while she studies me.
“Almost ready,” she drawls. “You just need one thing.” She takes the matching cloak from the bed and wraps it around my shoulders, trailing her fingers through the white fur trim. “The solstice ball might be the biggest party in the territory, but I’m going to show you where the real fun is.”
CHAPTER 5
BRIGID
Matty takes my hand, leading me down the main stairwell. Garlands studded with dried orange slices are wrapped around the railings, filling the air with the scent of pine needles, citrus, and cinnamon.
Music drifts up from one of the lower levels, a choir of guttural throat noises blending with ethereal voices singing in ancient Dracalyrian. The high notes send shivers down my spine, crystallizing like icicles. I don’t need to understand the language to know they’re singing about the Solstice.
“My Queen, may I have a moment?”
I swivel my head toward a tall dragon in his humanoid form, clambering down the steps. Matty stops and turns smoothly, draping an arm over my shoulder as we face him. “Yes, Grayson?”
He dabs his emerald scales with a handkerchief and shoves it in his pocket, juggling a clipboard in his other hand. My eyes snag on the portrait clipped above a stack of papers. It shows a gorgeous dragon with opalescent scales and deep violet wings. Below it, there’s a miniature painting of a female humanoid dragon with hair like moonlight spilling over her amethyst scales.
“I have great news,” Grayson says. “Lady Beatrix of House Foxglove has arrived at the front gates. She’s decided to put herself forward as a candidate for tomorrow’s ceremony.”
My stomach turns, and I press a hand to my navel, surprised by the sudden flash of envy. There’s nothing to be jealous of. I’m not vying for the Queen’s hand. It would be absurd to even consider such a thing, but I can’t help thinking how wonderful it would be to have someone like her truly care about me.
“Splendid.” Matty pulls me closer. “I’ll be happy to see Lady Beatrix at the ball tomorrow, but today, I have company.”
“Your Majesty,” Grayson pleads as Matty sweeps me down the stairs. “Don’t you want to speak to her? A betrothal to someone so powerful would be beneficial for the monarchy, and sheisa beauty.”
Matty presses her lips to my hair and whispers, “Blah-dee-blah-blah.Lady Beatrix wrote to me last week proposing an arrangement that would allow her to keep seeing her lover while we put on a good show for the Dragon Territory. I consider her a dear friend, but she’s interested in a crown, not me. Not romantically at least.”Clearing her throat, she raises her voice to reply to Grayson, “I’ll keep your suggestion in mind, old friend.”
Dismissing him with a wave of her hand, she picks up the pace, jogging away with me before he can continue the argument.
“Would it be so awful to consider a practical arrangement?” I ask. “You wouldn’t have to stop searching for your true love match.”
“I would never disrespect my chosen or fated mate like that,” she says, her jaw set. “When I make a vow to someone, I intend to keep it.”
Queen Matilda is one of the last true romantics, I guess. She’ll be clinging to the chance to find her fated mate up until the last minute.
We’re moving so fast that we nearly collide with someone else trying to put in a good word for an eligible noblewoman. She’s holding a frame showcasing a painting of another pretty dragon.
“Not now, Jocelyn,” Matty calls, the portrait blurring in my periphery.
“But the Solstice ball is tomorrow,” I remind her as the older dragon balks behind us. “I won’t hold it against you if you need to speak with your council, or even take some time to fret over your choice for a little while.”
“No,” she says firmly. “What did I tell you I’d be doing today?”
I roll my eyes, but her giddiness is contagious as we run through the castle. “Giving me warm fuzzies?”
“Yes, that’s my entire to-do list.” She ducks her head to protect her horns from the low-hanging crystal snowflakes dangling from the mezzanine ceiling.
I can’t contain my smug grin as we slip past the crowd of elderly dragons gathered around the spruce tree in the foyer to watch the carolers. Matty is on a mission to make me feel good, and she’s succeeding.
I’m starting to think I might still be trapped in that iron chest because this all feels like some hazy dream induced by oxygen deprivation. I can’t think of a logical reason for Matty to be this kind to me.
