Page 134 of Beyond the Faerie Gate

Rhoswyn

Ilook over my shoulder at Bree. “Are you staying with me?” I ask, feeling oddly vulnerable.

He inclines his head in answer.

“Do you… happen to know much about clothes?”

I have no hope of getting it on by myself. It seems strange to be asking him, but if Kitarni is right, he is essentially my husband. He’ll see me naked at some point, anyway.

Right, because I only want to strip in front of him for practical reasons.

Too late, I remember that Bree is probably the male who’s least comfortable around females in any state of undress.

“You don’t have to help.” I backtrack as fast as I can. “I’m sure the maids will be back.”

He holds up a hand to silence me. “I… I can help you dress, dragonfly.” Then he seems to realise what he’s said and grimaces. “I apologise,” he says. “It isn’t right of me to address you…”

“No. I like it,” I blurt.

Dragonfly isn’t the most conventional endearment, but he said it so softly—almost worshipfully—and I actually… like it.

More than I should.

Just like when Lore calls me pet, or Jaro slips up and calls me Rosie.

They’re all claiming their own casual intimacies with me, and each time they do, butterflies take up residence in my belly.

Before I can second guess myself, I head into the open-walled sanctuary of my bedchamber to inspect the white and grey pile of lace, leather, and fur spread out across the covers.

“Are there usually so many… pieces?” Bree stares at it in complete confusion.

He’s right.

There are so many layers of fabric, I’m honestly not sure where to start.

“I have no idea,” I answer honestly.

Then I spot the undergarments already hanging over the privacy screen and blush.

Bree follows my gaze and coughs. Ripping his eyes from the lace, he fixes his attention on my feet and swallows, making his Adam’s apple bob—Goddess, can these men even swallow without it heating my blood?

“Go and put those on,” he instructs. “I’ll…” He waves an arm at the piles of fabric wordlessly.

Cheeks burning, I flee behind the screen, take a deep, steadying breath, and try to focus on the task at hand.

Though I’m coming to find it’s unusual for fae undergarments to favour function over form, these ones are more practical than most. Of course, they’re still decorated with bands of lace and strips of ribbon, but they’re not completely see-through, like the last three pairs I’ve been given.

I guess my maids didn’t want me to be uncomfortable while riding.

I hate to break it to them, but if tonight is anything like the last time I rode for so long, I’ll have lost the use of my legs by the end.

Almost like he can tell I’ve finished, Bree throws a pair of pale leather leggings over the top of the screen. Fleece lined, they glide over my legs like a second skin until my lower body is cocooned in warmth.

I’m still naked from the waist up.

“Is there… nothing for the top of me?” I ask hesitantly as I lace up the trousers.

He doesn’t answer for a while.

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