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“No, that’s a good idea.” He laid the clothing on the bed, ignoring the tumbled sheets and quilt. “There’s a note here for you...”

“Oh, Darady. What a woman she is.” Maelin walked up beside him, smelling of his soap. Why that was so arousing he had no clue, but it was, and he had to fight it down, reminding himself of the seriousness of the situation.

“Dear Miss Mae,” she read. “I hope these are the right garments, your mother’s gift is tucked into your left boot.” Maelin chuckled. “Clever.” She grabbed the boot and shook it, smiling as a soft grey velvet package dropped out onto the bed.

“The pearls?” he asked.

She opened it and pulled them out. “Yes indeed.” She held them towards him. “Will you?” She turned away, lifting her hair away from her neck.

He sighed. “You are an amazing woman, Maelin of Theryn.” He fastened the necklace and turned her, admiring the fall of the softly gleaming pearls over skin every bit as exquisite. “And I am the luckiest man in Caelemar right now.” He tugged away the towel, making her blush.

“Yes. Definitely the luckiest man in Caelemar.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Are you sure this will do?” Mae brushed a hand over her clothing as they stepped out onto the streets of Gloamtide. The dark grey ensemble had been sitting in her closet for quite some time, since the Tidehold Conservatory wasn’t known for elegance of dress. But it fit like a glove, the bodice beautifully embroidered in shining black flowers, the jacket lapels featuring similar ornamentations and the straight divided skirt was practical for walking. And also, she hoped, for traversing the streets of Gloamtide.

The pearls? They added that final touch. She kept her hair coiled neatly at the back of her head, pinned with her favourite grey and white pearl sticks.

She knew it was flattering and fashionable, but she took little comfort from that fact, since her nerves were jittering all over the place.

They’d arrived in Gloamtide via Cyrus’s personal cabinet, which was fast and smooth, but the place itself was all too familiar. The poor reddish light and the less than pleasant mixture of smells...Mae quietly tucked her arm through Cyrus’s, glad when he clasped her hand as well.

“Mr Cy.” Bram appeared from a side street, a quiet and somewhat surprising arrival, given his size. He glanced at her and bobbed his head. “M’Lady.”

“Good evening, Bram. Nice to see you.”

That apparently flustered him a bit, since he coughed and grunted something she didn’t catch.

“Still the Nine Veils?” asked Cyrus quietly.

Bram nodded.

“Good.” He turned them toward a side street. “This way.”

“The Nine Veils,” she murmured. “Shifters, yes?”

“Yes,” he replied quietly. “They have a very large auditorium, and can easily accommodate a good crowd.”

“I’m a little nervous to ask why...”

Cyrus managed a quick grin. “They can present some amazing shows. I once saw the creation of the worlds, presented by mostly naked women from past centuries. A cast of what seemed like thousands. Very impressive.”

Mae opened her mouth, but then reconsidered. Questions about that could wait for another time.

The Velvet House itself didn’t look that large when they reached it and joined the queue already in line to enter for the Conclave. Cyrus nodded to several people and was greeted by others. She heard Bram grunting his way through much the same thing. For her part, she received a lot of curious looks, but managed to remain as calm and poised as possible. Whether Cyrus would be able to remove the marks of her fingernails in his skin was another matter.

“Keep holding onto me, and smile if you must, but don’t converse with anyone,” he whispered as they went inside.

“All right.”

They followed the line of attendees down several flights of stairs, and Mae gasped as a door finally opened onto an auditorium already half full.

Cyrus led her to a row where the seats were red, and following his example she sat, realising they were in the front row of a sort of balcony, although there were many other balconies ringing the central stage.

She glanced around. “Where’s Bram,” she whispered.

“Over there. By the door,” he answered quietly.