“Apologies,” he mumbles. “This wing of the house never sees much use. I will fix that while you eat dinner.”
“Tell me where the tools are and I can fix it myself.”
He seems startled I would say such a thing.
“Don’t let the dress fool you. I’m more accustomed to work trousers than satin.”
“My master made a vow that you will want for nothing; he will take care of everything for you. I will see it fixed while you eat,” Oren says somewhat begrudgingly. I wonder if his master would punish him for allowing me to do work. If he would be willing to allow me to do it on my own, but is unable.
I’m left with nothing but speculation still on who my husband really is.
Oren leads us inside, setting my trunk on a tufted bench at the foot of a curtained four-poster bed. It is opposite a large, stone hearth, in which a fire is already crackling. Just like everything else in this castle-like manor, the furnishings are fine and well-kept.
“Dinner will be within the hour. I hope you are amenable to eating earlier so that you can be back in your chambers by sundown.”
“It’s fine. I’m usually an early to bed, early to rise sort of person.” I smile.
Oren only nods and leaves me. It isn’t until after he’s gone that I realize I’ve forgotten to ask what attire I should wear to dinner. And…if it is when I will finally get to meet the man I’ve married.
