Page 10 of A Fragile Enchantment

For a moment, he only stared at her. He wore a peculiar expression, caught somewhere between bemusement and irritation. “Yes. I knocked.”

“Well, please knock louder next time!” Blood rushed through her ears, and her face burned with embarrassment. This was precisely why she couldn’t indulge herflights of fancy,as Gran liked to call them. Anytime she paused to enjoy something, anytime she indulged herself, something terrible happened. She’d wasted too many afternoons sketching out impractical, unsellable gowns, or daydreaming away the hours while a loaf of bread burned in the oven. And now, she’d been caught dancing alone by the most judgmental man in Avaland. “You scared me.”

“You were lost in your own world. I hardly see how that’s my fault.”

Niamh resisted the urge to groan aloud. Surely, he had more important things to do than mock her. He was lucky his voice was as nice as his eyes, or no one would be able to stand him at all. It had a pleasing rasp to it, like the tide over a rocky shore.

She forced a polite smile. “What can I do for you, Your Highness?”

“Don’t call me that.Your Highnessis my brother.”

So he and Sinclairdidhave something in common. Neither of them had much regard for things like titles or formality. Still, Kit couldn’t hide his true nature. All the pride radiating off him—the upturned nose, the disdainful curl of his lip—was testament enough to his princeliness.

“My lord, then?” she tried.

He sighed exasperatedly. “Just Kit.”

“Very well, my…” She caught herself before the very regrettable wordsmy Kitleft her mouth. No, it was far too intimate. She couldn’t call him by his given name, so she would not call him anything at all. “Ehm… I’m sorry. What is it you wanted again?”

“I’m supposed to get fitted for a new coat.” He saidfittedas though it were a method of torture andcoatas though it were an instrument of one.

All at once, the memory of his insult came flooding back.I would sooner wear nothing to my wedding than anything she has so much as looked at.Hurt knotted itself tight within her, but she drew in a deep breath to steady herself. Everyone deserved a second chance. Sinclair had suggested as much, in his way.

“Have you changed your mind, then?” Immediately, she wished she could wrangle he words back into her mouth. She’d meant to sound playful, but all her hurt feelings tumbled out like thread from an unraveling spool.

Kit straightened up, and his eyes narrowed distrustfully. “About what?”

You know very well what.She shoved her wounded pride down. If he wanted to believe she was nothing but an airheaded, peacocking fool, so be it. With as sweet a smile as she could manage, she said, “You aren’t planning to go naked to your wedding anymore?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” he asked, entirely and disappointingly unfazed. “Let’s get this over with.”

“As you wish, sir.”

She hadn’t yet mapped out the new studio, but it couldn’t bethat hard to find what she needed. She flung open the drawers of her worktable and was disturbed to see everything organized by color, every tool exactly aligned in perfect little rows. Whoever did this was very fastidious indeed. Her own method of organization was… Well, she supposed calling it a method would be a stretch of the imagination.

After a few moments of rummaging, she grabbed a notebook, tucked a pencil behind her ear, and draped a strip of tailor’s tape around her neck. Kit stood exactly where she’d left him: arms crossed, lurking halfway out the door, ready to bolt at the slightest provocation.

She gestured to the mirror. “Stand here, please.”

To her surprise, he obeyed without complaint. He skulked into the room as if one of the dress forms might suddenly leap at him, or a swath of colorful silk might fly from its bolt and garrote him. It admittedly unnerved her to have him so close, with him glaring down the bridge of his nose at her. He was as lean and coiled as a wolf in midwinter and shorter than most men she’d met. But as slight as he was, she was smaller. There were a few inches of height between them. That would make things difficult.

“One moment.”

Niamh retreated to the corner of the room and dragged over a footrest. She unwound the tailor’s tape from around her neck, then climbed onto the ottoman. The legs wobbled beneath her weight, and Niamh swore she saw Kit flinch, as though he meant to steady her but stopped himself at the last moment. It surprised her enough that she almost knocked herself off-balance again. Perhaps he still possessed some gentlemanly instinct. Or perhaps she’d imagined it entirely. He stared resolutely at the wall, a muscle in his jaw feathering.

Her hair still hung loose around her shoulders, so she swept it back into a chignon. One glance in the mirror revealed that she looked a complete and utter mess, but she couldn’t be botheredwith it at the moment. It wasn’t as though she could impress him if she tried.

She began taking his measurements: his height, the breadth of his shoulders, the length of his arm… By some miracle, he allowed her to manipulate him like a doll and wore only a slightly martyred expression. But now, she had exhausted everything safe.Safe.How ridiculous. She was a consummate professional.Hewas the one who would undoubtedly be fussy and awkward about what came next, so she would warn him and be done with it.

“So…” An unpromising start. She cleared her throat and tried again. “I will need to be a little close for the next few measurements. If that bothers you—”

“Just do it.”

“Right,” she replied with false cheer. “Lift your arms for me, please.”

The silence ground miserably on. Her arms were too short to spare either of them the discomfort of proximity. Niamh sidled closer to him, until she pressed herself nearly flush against his back. Heat radiated off him, along with the scent of growing things—and tobacco. If only she could stopnoticinghim. Never in her life had she felt so self-sabotaging. As she looped the tailor’s tape around his chest, she felt as much as saw his muscles wind tighter. As her elbow grazed his ribs, his breath hitched. The fabric of his shirt whispered against her skin, and—

“Do you have something you want to say to me?” Kit asked.