Page 30
I pull my hand back.
A pulse bleats in the spot I’ve abandoned, calling me to open myself again. I dip a finger down to the cleft below it, surprised by the depth of the tight opening as I sink down to my first knuckle. My lower body clenches, a need for more opening in the pit of my stomach.
I remove the digit and slide it back up to that sensitive nub, circling it intuitively. Goddess.
I should stop before I summon Zephyr by accident. That would be embarrassing.
The delicious tingling dissipates as someone knocks on the door. I shove the mirror underneath the comforter.
“Good morning, miss,” a maid chirps from the hall. “Are you awake?”
I throw my nightgown on and wipe my fingers on the linen. “Yes, please come in.”
I yawn as the maids make a fuss over me, curling up inside myself.
There’s no telling what Zephyr is planning, but it can’t hurt to remain calm until they return. I drown out my feelings while the maids braid my hair into a thick plait and choose my gown for the day.
“Something pretty without being overly formal,” one of the young women says, holding a green and plaid gown up to her petite figure.
“Just a touch of rouge will do.” The other maid dusts pink powder along my cheekbones, blowing the excess off her brush. “You’ll want to appear relatable for the betrothal announcement.”
I dig my nails into my palms and push my nerves far below my skin, keeping my mind on the mysteries of this body and what might have happened if the maids hadn’t come knocking when they did.
Touching that secret area felt nice, but also frightening. I’ll wait until Zephyr returns to investigate any further, lest I trigger something that summons them.
I hug my olive green wool shawl around myself as I’m led to a balcony overlooking the main road to the village. A northwest wind sweeps in, ruffling the lace place settings on the round wrought-iron table.
I stand awkwardly, wondering where I should sit. I thought this was going to be a private breakfast, but Darcy is accompanied by the priestess.
The Duchess clinks her teeth against a teacup, a smile sneaking into the corner of her mouth as Bijou laughs.
My escort clears her throat, and they both set their cups in their saucers, finally noticing me.
“We’ve sent word of our betrothal to the docks. The villagers will be gathering below to watch us break our fast and greet my bride-to-be,” Darcy says, pulling out a chair for me. “I hope you slept well.”
“I did.” After falling from my window and getting tucked in by my fae guardian.
I smooth my skirts beneath my thighs and take my seat across from the priestess, deciding it’s too impolite to ask her what she’s doing here.
A sheer white veil flutters away from her face as she tilts the teapot over my cup.
“That’s good to hear. We’ll be on our feet, greeting visitors all day.” She slides my saucer closer. “The villagers will see my presence as a sign of approval from the Lunar Tide Coven,” she adds. “They tend to turn to us for reassurance in times like these.”
“Times like these?” I question, blowing ribbons of steam off of my drink.
Darcy refreshes her tea, her smile lost to a scowl. “The villagers aren’t pleased about the curfew we’ve implemented for their safety.”
“Because you’ve been concerned about the sea serpent,” I speculate, but it doesn’t explain why she agreed to meet me the other night.
Surely she would’ve warned me if she thought that beast was lurking nearby.
“Yes, but we haven’t told them we’re concerned about the stoor wyrm specifically,” Bijou says, smearing pink jelly on a crispy piece of bread. “We don’t want to start a frenzy over the beast’s awakening.”
“Among other things.” Darcy exchanges a look with Bijou. It’s clear they know more than they’re telling me. “I’m assembling a small crew to row out with me in order to determine if the stoor wyrm is truly dead.” She rubs the purple splotch on her forehead. “I can’t remember much of what happened before I woke up on the shore. There are so many damn gaps in my memory. ”
“That’s common with head injuries. I’m sure you’ll recover the missing pieces soon,” Bijou says, and Darcy’s rigid spine melts back against her chair.
She relaxes so readily for this dear friend she never once mentioned, and she won’t even spare a glance in my direction. I’m an outsider listening in on their conversation, eating up the scraps of information they feel like sharing.
