When I finally open the door, I find Castiel looking downright annoyed. “May I come in now?”
“Of course.” I step out of the way and notice he’s not wearing fancy attire. His clothes are pristine, midnight blue, but devoid of any embellishments. They match the somber expression etched on his face. “What’s the matter?”
“There’s been a change of plans. My brother’s trial will happen tonight.”
“What about King Ruel’s reception?” Cher asks.
“He’s been detained and won’t arrive until tomorrow.”
The severity of the situation descends upon me like a heavy blanket of doom. “I see. How long do we have?”
“An hour. I’ll send you fresh clothes.”
“Can we see the children first?” Cheryl asks from the bed.
“I’ve been told they’re sleeping now, but you can naturally see for yourselves. There’s a connecting passage to their room.” He walks toward a wall with a huge tapestry hanging from the ceiling. He presses his palm against the embroidery of a lynx, and a door opens inward.
“Ahiddendoor, you mean,” I say. “Does it work the same way from the other side?”
“No.” He turns on his heel and veers for it. “Your clothes will be provided shortly, and an escort will come for you in an hour.”
He walks out of the room without a glance back.
Cheryl stares after him. “Boy, was it me, or was his mood fouler?”
“It wasn’t you. I think this trial won’t be easy for him. I can’t imagine having to prosecute my own brother.” I return to bed, thinking about Connor.
“You still miss him, don’t you?” Cher reaches for my hand, knowing what’s on my mind.
I swallow the lump in my throat, fighting the sadness that threatens to choke me. “Yes.”
“He’s with you… right here.” She flattens her palm against my chest, and my heart skips a beat.
Looking into her eyes, I take her hand and bring it to my lips. Her gaze softens, and she leans forward and kisses me tenderly. It starts sweet, but when it comes to us, we seem unable to keep things slow and easy. I curl my fingers around a lock of her hair, twisting it around my hand while I deepen the kiss. I’m hard again, as if I didn’t spend the last few hours making love to her. I’m about to get rid of my pants when there’s another knock on the door.
“It must be someone with our clothes,” she whispers against my lips.
“Yes.” I bite her lower lip, unwilling to move from my spot.
She pushes me back. “Unless you want me to answer the door in my birthday suit, you’d better get that.”
With a groan, I stand up. “Fine. You win.”
This time, it’s not one Nightingale attendant but a group of five—three females and two males—who are standing outsideour door. They come bearing several options hanging from fancy clothing racks.
Cher jumps out of bed wrapped in the bedsheet to inspect the array of dresses. Her eyes are round with wonder as she runs her hands through a myriad of sheer and glittering fabrics. My heart swells with love for her as I watch her happiness on display.
“There are so many,” she says in awe. “I don’t know which one to choose.”
“They are all yours, my lady.”
She turns to the female who spoke. “What? I couldn’t possibly keep them all.”
“Is there a dress code required to attend the trial?” I ask the male closest to me.
My question sobers the entire party. “Yes, my lord. You must wear the trial robes.” He pulls out a dress suit similar to the one Castiel was wearing. It has a high collar and is solid blue, just a shade lighter than Castiel’s. Cher’s dress is cut from the same fabric, with a high neckline, long sleeves, and a full skirt.
“It’s like we’re dressing to attend a funeral,” she murmurs.
