That’s when I spy the dress hanging from a stalagmite, and I move across the cave, running my fingers over the smooth fabric. The skirt and bodice are made from the finest sky-blue silk, interwoven with silver thread to form a brocaded, floral pattern. I trace my finger over a rose, unable to contain my surprise.
The dress is beautiful and far too grand for a simple country girl like me. How on earth did he manage to procure such a gown? There’s a pair of leather boots, too, and a royal blue cloak of damask velvet.
How did he know blue was my favourite colour?
No…I can’t accept these. I did pay for them with my necklace, but I have a feeling they weren’t rightfully his to give away in the first place.
But I do need a new set of clothes. My nightdress is torn and covered in dirt, and I did have a similar cloak back home.
I finally make up my mind, slipping on the dress. The bodice hugs my waist, and it feels like wearing a second skin. When I spin, the light catches the silver thread, and for a moment I fancy myself a queen.
I try on the boots, lacing them up at the front, then tiptoe down the tunnel, careful to avoid the stalagmites that protrude from the ground.
There are stalactites hanging from the ceiling, and I feel as though I’m walking through the mouth of a mighty dragon.
Thank goodness for the lamp, for I wouldn’t have been able to find my way through the dark.
A warm glow shines ahead, and I step into the main chamber, the one where we first met.
He’s nowhere in sight. Should I be worried? For all I know, he could be lurking in the shadows, watching me.
Shaking away the thought, I decide to search the rest of his home.
We’re inside a mountain, one containing a labyrinth of tunnels. It’s going to take a miracle to find my way out.
I stumble upon a tunnel with a waterfall, and as I step closer to the cascade, narrowing my eyes against the spray, I glimpse a verdant valley of green and purple beyond.
The other side of the mountain.
It’s breathtaking, and nothing at all like the sprawling forests to the south.
A silver stream glistens in the sunlight, snaking across hills of vibrant heather. It's a true work of art, one I wouldn't mind capturing on canvas one day.
Cupping my hands together, I collect the water from beneath the cascade, then take a sip. The water is fresh and soothing, and I help myself to more, suddenly aware of the urge to relieve myself.
Let’s just hope the faerie has a privy inside his mountain somewhere...
I hurry down the tunnel, spying a shaft of sunlight streaking across the stone ahead, but my hopes are soon dashed the moment I find myself in yet another cave.
It’s a storage room of some kind, and it appears he’s a collector.
Beams of light pierce through cracks in the ore above, and as I move in the dress, the fabric whispering with each step, I stir up a cloud of dust.
I have never seen so many books—towers upon towers reaching the ceiling. There are antiques, such as a grandfather clock and anold candelabra, along with useless bric-a-brac he couldn’t possibly have any use for.
I cover my mouth, holding back a snort.
He’s ahoarder.
My eyes find a globe, and I spin it on its axis, taking note of the continents of the world. Then I approach a table strewn with metal cogs and lengths of wire, picking up a kaleidoscope.
When I’ve had my fun with the contraption, I gaze around, pursing my lips. He should really consider hiring a maid. This cave is filthy and dangerous.
There’s a bureau in the corner. That must be his office. Unlike the rest of the cave, it’s free of clutter. There are rolls of parchment stacked inside a nook, alongside a jar of ink and several feather quills.
With a glance over my shoulder, I pick up a scroll, skimming his handwriting. His scrawl is slanted and neat, though marred by several blotches of ink.
A flash of light flickers at the edge of my vision, and I turn quickly, searching for the source. What was it?
