In that case, Shyla allowed the nice lady to fit her and adjust the hem. The merchant also fashioned a head scarf out of the print and sold them a pair of sandals. Shyla disliked removing her boots but had to agree the sandals looked better with the nicer clothing. Still, she bought a new pack and put the monk’s uniform and boots into it along with a wrap and a new sun cloak they’d purchased. The construction of the cloak was nicer than any other she’d owned. It reminded her of the commune in Zirdai where…people…did…something not important to Shyla’s current task.
The two of them then sought a beauty stall and told the beautician what they wanted.
“Black would be too severe,” the woman said. “Let’s go with a warm brown with honey highlights, and I’m going to trim the ends of your hair.” She tsked. “They’re a bit…ragged.”
“That’s because a deacon cut off all my hair and was about to shave the rest when I was rescued,” Shyla said. Odd that she could remember all those details, yet whenever she tried to recall something more recent, it just slipped through her grasp.
“Oh my. Well, good thing hair grows,” she said brightly. “Just relax and let me pamper you.” The beautician proceeded to dye Shyla’s hair, eyelashes, and eyebrows.
When Shyla looked at herself in the mirror, she stared at a stranger. But the person in the glass no longer needed to hide. No one would accuse her of being sun-cursed and try to kill her for being different. Yet there was a…wrongness to it. As if she betrayed…something. Or perhaps someone. Those feelings soon faded and her reflection matched her—the person Xerxes wanted. Little One. Yes, this would do.
Dayana studied her. “That’ll work. Let’s go, it’s getting late.”
The two women walked through the shaft. Little One drew more than a few glances. She didn’t like the attention. A creepy-crawly sensation of being watched from the shadows brushed her skin.
“Relax,” Dayana said. “You’re the King’s emissary. You’re used to being noticed.”
When they returned to the apartment, Xerxes was pleased. Little One basked in his praise. He dismissed Dayana and showed Little One to her room. The sleeping cushion was big enough for two.
“There’s some sleeping gowns in the trunk and other necessities for you. Do not leave your room. I will come for you with plenty of time for you to dress and eat before we visit the Water Prince.”
“You’re not staying?”
“No, Little One. I’ve done a number of terrible things for the old king. I’m ambitious and greedy and will do what it takes to get what I want, including murder. But I won’t ever force a woman to have sex with me.”
“But you’re not—”
“Go to sleep, Little One.”
“Yes, sir.”
She changed and slipped under the fur. The cushion was comfortable, but she needed…needed…Xerxes…no…not him… The goddess’s love smoothed her conflicted thoughts and Little One soon fell into a peaceful sleep.
Her peace was shattered when a hand clamped down over her mouth. A large figure crouched next to her. She relaxed and the hand released her. Xerxes had come to share her cushion after all. The druk that she left half open had been closed to a crack. Her eyes adjusted. And she smiled at—not Xerxes. She drew in a breath to yell.
Not-Xerxes held up his hands to show he was unarmed. He whispered, “Shyla, it’s me. Rendor.”
Those two names tugged hard on her soul. She struggled to recall why they were…no they meant nothing. “Who?”
“Rendor. Come on, sunbeam. You’re stronger than Xerxes. Fight the compulsion.”
So many confusing statements. She scrambled for clarity.
“Let’s get out of here, and then you can clear your head.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet.
A familiar warmth spread at his touch.
“Just be really quiet. I don’t want to wake Xerxes.”
Xerxes. Her commander would not be pleased to find her gone when he came for her. The goddess’s love sucked all the warmth from her body. Fear of not following orders sent icy tendrils through her.
Not-Xerxes towed her toward the threshold of her room. No. Xerxes said not to leave. Little One dug in her heels, stopping her forward momentum only for a moment. The man was strong and she knew he’d drag her away, thinking he was rescuing her.
She did not need to be rescued byhim.
“Xerxes, help me!” Little One screamed.
Eleven
