Page 93 of Stolen Threadwitch Bride
With his power restored, he could shadowstep us easily. How far, exactly?
I placed my hand in his and the world dropped away.
Motes of dust and darkness, we fluttered along and a moment later we were indoors, the delicious flavour of rhubarb and starlight teasing my tongue. It only took me a breath to recover this time and I smiled at the fact.
When I turned to see where Ly had brought us, the smile guttered. A dressing screen of midnight blue covered in silver stars. A low table with two armchairs. A counter of pale marble covered in pretty knick-knacks—fans and bags and little boxes that had me itching to open them and look inside.
As I turned, movement caught my eye. My reflection. A tall, silver mirror stood at one end of the room, the moon’s phases moulded into the top edge of its opulent frame.
And at the other end of the room, lace curtains covered large windows and a glazed door that looked out onto a street.
“A shop?” I peered outside, though I didn’t recognise the road.
He tilted his head and pressed middle finger to thumb. A door appeared in the back wall, which had looked like nothing more than rich wood panelling. “I may be wrong, but I think this makes it an atelier.”
My breath caught, but when he gestured for me to go first, my feet took over and carried me into the back room. The waist-height table, the large windows, the upright, supportive chair at a lower work surface, the shelves and racks ready to hold rolls and lengths of fabric, the armchair…
It was just like my workroom—like the one I’d designed in my sketchbook in idle, dreaming moments. Right down to the frosted skylight in the ceiling, through which the full moon peeked.
I opened my mouth, closed it, but no sound came out.
“I didn’t mean to snoop,” he said from near the door, watching me, “but some time ago I noticed you’d left your sketchbook open and when I saw this…”
I chewed my lip, mind slow and whirring at once. Was he saying…? Had he done all this for me?
“I consulted with seamstresses and tailors on the details, and I wrote to the Queen’s seamstress on a few particulars. But I tried to keep as true to your design as possible.” He shook his head, glancing at the shelves. “It isn’t finished, of course. But…”
His throat bobbed in a slow swallow and he lifted his chin as his gaze returned to mine. He took a hesitant step towards me. “I realised sooner than you did. But then, I suppose I wasn’t the one stolen away from my world and everything I knew.” He winced. “In case I haven’t said it, Iamsorry about that, you know. Truly.”
And he couldn’t lie. But—I rubbed the back of my neck—what had he realised?
“So I had this built as…” He bit his lip and approached.
Oh, gods, this was dangerous. The way he bit his lip begged me to kiss him, and if I did, I would never stop and here he was, coming closer, stopping within arm’s reach.
I clasped my hands behind my back.
“I built it as an apology and an explanation. This wasn’t how I was planning to unveil it, but I can’t have you thinking you’re some novelty to me or a ‘mere human.’ I want you to have something that is yours, not a place you were brought to against your will and not a life you were left with because of circumstance.”
“This is for me?” I took in the racks, the chair, a set of tiny drawers ready to house all different findings perfectly organised. So much. “All of this?”
He cocked his head, dimple teasing a shadow in his cheek. “Who else?” He said it like it was obvious.
Pressure built at the back of my eyes. “Ly, you didn’t have to…” My voice cracked and I couldn’t go on.
“I did. Or, rather, I wanted to—neededto. You see, Ari, I want you to be happy.”
Just like I wanted him to be happy, even if that meant marrying a fae woman who’d be his match in every way. One he wouldn’t lose in forty or fifty years.
He blasted a sigh and winced. “Stars above, I’m saying all of this in the wrong order. I haven’t even told you…” Smiling, he took my hands, and I was a fool, because I squeezed his in return. “The Queen has heard what you did for me, and she’s freed you from the Tithe.”
The thing I’d been working towards for weeks, it should’ve brought me joy, but it was a lead weight in my belly. If I was released from the Tithe, he would send me back to Briarbridge. I frowned at the workroom—the beautiful workroom. “If I’m going back, why build this?”
His smile faded. “Because you don’t have to go back. Not if you don’t want to. And this place… now I have my strength back, this place isn’t fixed here.”
My brows rose. “You can move a whole building?”
He lifted one shoulder and one side of his mouth. “Basically.”
