Page 24 of The Fury She Holds
“Your horse, huh? If I remember correctly, she was gifted tome.”
“Perhaps, but Aggie chose me.” Tal shot him a sly smirk.
Daire put a hand to his bare chest in mock injury. “Aggie, my darling, is that true? Have I been betrayed?”
Aggie answered by taking a step further into Talwyn’s space and nipped her ear with her lips. Tal tilted her head and nudged the mare.
“After all we’ve been through?” He threw his arms wide, but a smile lifted his lips. “That hurts, Aggie. That really hurts.”
Silence filled the space between them while Tal debated how to broach the subject of the ball. Instead, she asked, “What have you gathered about the fires at the docks?”
He straightened, and his face hardened. “You know I can’t discuss that with you.”
“But youareinvestigating it.”
“Is that really why you came here?”
“No.” She hesitated.
Daire broached the subject for her. “Have you changed your mind?”
“You mean you haven’t asked someone else? It’s been weeks, and the ball is tomorrow. The dress—” Tal waited until the last minute to seek out the captain in hopes that his invitation to her had been given away.
“Tal, there is no one else. The dress has been ready since I asked you. The dressmaker has been waiting for you for a final fitting.” He took a step toward her and reached for her arm, but she stepped out of his reach. “My offer still stands, all of it.” His smile softened, but she saw a hunger in his eyes while he waited for her answer.
“Daire, I want to be clear—”
“Just say yes, Tal,” he interrupted. “It’s okay to want to be taken care of.”
“I’m not marrying you.” She crossed her arms. “I don’t need to be taken care of. I’m only going to the ball.”
Daire thought for a moment. “Okay, only the ball,” a mischievous gleam reached his eyes when he added, “for now.”
“I’m serious. I am not accepting a marriage proposal. And if you try anything, one of my knives will find their way into your side.”
Daire released a thunderous howl. “Hells, Tal, you always were so violent. I only meant that you’ll enjoy the ball, and perhaps you’ll change your mind about… the rest.”
“Not going to happen.” She started walking away, ending the conversation.
“We’ll see!” he called. “I’ll have the dressmaker call for you tomorrow.”
Tal waved him off and left the palace grounds.
Egan and Carrick left before the sun came up. Rainier left after breakfast to bring the kids to the baker’s wife, who had graciously agreed to take them in for the time being, and Sybil went out briefly to pick up her own dress. She returned empty-handed about an hour before they needed to leave and winked when Tal eyed with suspicion.
The pair met the dressmaker at his shop before lunch. The spritely middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair and a black pencil mustache tugged, nudged, tsked, and harrumphed for three hours. Tal grumbled through the whole ordeal, growing more and more frustrated at how much fabric they draped over her, then again as they pulled her hair into a beehive and added color to her cheeks, lips, and lash line. Sybil enjoyed every minute of it. The only blessing had been that they offered her endless glasses of champagne. She was practically cheery by the time they’d finished.
In a periwinkle tulle gown that looked like clouds draped over a waterfall, stood a very annoyed but slightly buzzed Talwyn.The sweetheart neckline met an abundance of cascading fabric and billowing sleeves in an off-the-shoulder style the elite would find scandalous, much to Tal’s delight. Unfortunately, the sleeves drooped down her arms, and she constantly had to pull them back up. The bodice hugged her middle and then exploded in vertical waves of more periwinkle tulle in a princess silhouette. The fabric itself felt surprisingly light, but all the layers underneath more than made up for it.
At one point, Sybil dressed in her own simple gown of gray and white with a square neckline and tapered lace sleeves. She whistled at the sight of Tal. “Never in my life did I expect to see you in something so… big.”
“This will be the only time you’ll see this, so you better enjoy it while it lasts,” Talwyn replied. “These sleeves are so impractical. It feels like I have a mule tied to my hips. And how am I supposed to sit with this vice around my middle?”
“You’re missing one thing.” Sybil pulled a thin, tube-like flask out of a pocket in the folds of her dress and handed it to Tal. “It’s already filled and should fit right between the breasts.” She winked as she handed it to Tal.
Tal smelled the liquid inside and gave her friend a conspiratorial grin. “Where did you manage to get raspberry mead? I thought it all burned with Pochette’s distillery.”
“I promised not to tell. I had the flask specially made for tonight just in case those royals don’t know what a good drink is.”
