Page 13 of Palaces and other Prisons
Their clothing had no belts.
The last item was a cloak made of the same beige material, though thicker. The clasp was made of simple leather, much the same as the ones on the soldiers’ cloaks. Though he’d noticed that a few had metal clasps. The king’s had been silver with pearls and some kind of pink gem. The last item of clothing was made of thinner cloth, and while it was longer, it had no sleeves. Was it for sleeping in? Given that he’d seen no one wearing one, that seemed like the safest bet.
“There are clean clothes, but no underwear. We might need to wash our socks and underwear after I’ve had a bath.”
“Okay,” Katrina called.
Both tunics appeared to be the same size, so he flicked one over the screen for her, then made his way back to the table to sample some of the food while he waited. His stomach grumbled with anticipation. The soldiers had shared their rations, which meant everyone had eaten less. He was surprised that they’d shared…and that he hadn’t been tied up. Nothing screamed that they’d been taken prisoner. Yet he was on edge.
All those fantasy books had not prepared him for stepping into another world. Or perhaps it had, and that was why he’dvolunteered. The books had made him curious, and he knew enough to observe and to try not to offend.
The food on the table was fancier than soldiers’ rations—and what they’d been eating for the last four days on the platform. The meat and fruit were fresh, not dried, though there was a selection of dried fruit and nuts. He took a piece of bread and spread what looked like butter on it, only to find the butter was in fact some kind of soft cheese when he took a bite. It wasn’t terrible, just not what he expected. He added a piece of the sliced meat and ate it like an open sandwich, which was much better.
He was on his second cup of beer when Katrina walked over, wearing the tunic and the towel twisted around her head. “Are we supposed to wear this tomorrow?”
“I guess.”
“Does this mean none of them are wearing underwear?”
Dawson lifted his hands and shrugged. He was not about to admit that he’d already wondered that. The soldiers were definitely going commando under their tunics from the way things moved. Especially the satyr, as there had been rather a lot of movement.
“FYI, that’s not butter; it’s cheese. So far, I haven’t died from eating anything.”
“Food poisoning takes a couple of hours. Maybe I should wait to see what happens to you.” She frowned, and Dawson didn’t know if she was joking or being serious.
He made himself another sandwich with the fresh bread, cheese, and meat, figuring that if he was going to be sick, the damage was already done, and he might as well enjoy a full stomach.
Katrina watched and poured herself a drink. “Do you think they’re doing okay?”
“The water situation should be sorted.” He wanted his bag of things back, but it was probably being examined, and until hewas able to answer questions, he assumed it was gone, which meant no toothbrush or razor. “The food… I don’t know. How good are you at learning a language?”
“If we’re immersed in it, we should be able to get by in a few weeks, but fluency takes years.”
If humans had water, they could go days without food, but they didn’t have forever to find a solution to the food problem. “We don’t need to be fluent to beg for food.”
CHAPTER 10
Dawson felt ridiculous in the almost knee-length tunic. He worried that if he bent over, everybody was going to be seeing his asshole, and that was not something he wanted to be flashing around. His boxer briefs had dried by the fire overnight, so he wore them even if that wasn’t the done thing. The cloak also gave the illusion of modesty as it fell to his ankles.
Maybe he was paranoid because he wasn’t any taller than the soldiers, and they got around with no problems. The soldiers had split them up in the morning. Katrina left with one soldier, while he followed with the other.
The soldiers wore soft leather boots.
Even the castle servants seem to have soft slip-on shoes. He had been wearing his socks and boots, but the soldiers had not let him leave the room until he’d removed them…which gave the impression that they were prisoners, even if they were being treated as guests.
He followed the soldier, who wasn’t the same one as last night, even though he was also human. Every human he had seen on the island was blond, ranging from almost white to something closer to a light brown.
His dark hair made him stand out. After a couple of days of not shaving, it was no longer five o’clock shadow on his face, and he’d never been able to pull off the sexy stubble look either. He looked unkempt at best.
He wanted to ask the soldier why there were humans on a mythological island. He had so many questions, including the most basic: where were they going?
After going downstairs and along corridors and up some more stairs, the truth was revealed when he once again stood before the king. The soldier bowed and announced his delivery, or at least that is what Dawson assumed he said.
King Ul sat at a table covered in food.
The man who had been with the king last night was also there, sitting on one side. They didn’t appear to be equals, judging by their clothing and the way Ul spoke to him.
Ul’s clothes were less fancy today, and he wasn’t wearing a crown. Though the same as yesterday, he kept his injured arm tucked beneath his cloak. And while he wasn’t wearing a crown, he still wore jewelry. A silver and pearl necklace decorated his neck, and he wore a matching cuff around the wrist of his arm tentacle.
