Page 130 of Of Masks and Fury

“Yes.” He brought it over. “This monstrosity owes you some service before it meets its end.”

“You’re going to use my wedding dress as a towel?”

“I’m going to useLord Alfred’swould-be wedding prize as a towel. There’s a difference.”

I laughed at the absurdity of it, the perfect petty revenge, and it was exactly what I needed.

“See? Even your father’s awful taste in fashion can serve a purpose,” Trew quipped, his eyes twinkling as he gently buffed my arms with the silk. “Though I have to admit, drying you off is making me want to get you wet all over again in every way possible.”

Heat bloomed in my cheeks and lower. “Behave, or I’ll use this dress to tie you up and have my wicked way with you. You’re mine now, remember? Fiancée privileges.”

He draped the heavy silk over my shoulders, using it to squeeze water from my hair. Then he worked his way down, patting my skin dry.

“Turn,” he said.

I did as he asked, and he dried my back, careful around the scars from my father’s whip. When he’d finished, he wrapped the gown around me like a cloak.

“Let me dry you. There’s certainly enough cloth for both of us,” I said.

I treated him with the same care he’d shown me, relearning the landscape of his body through touch. Every scar, every muscle, and every place that made his breath catch when I lingered too long.

When I’d finished, we both looked at the soaked, crumpled mass of a dress.

“Let’s do something worthwhile with this thing,” Trew said.

“What did you have in mind?”

He carried the sodden gown to a clear patch of stone near the spring. He squatted, then he arranged the fabric in a heap and looked up at me.

A flick of his finger and flames burst in the middle of the gown, spreading quickly. Flames quickly followed, eating through the fabric.

We stepped back and watched as his magical fire consumed the dress. The pearls blackened. The lace curled and disappeared. The silk that had been meant to bind me to a monstrous future turned to ash.

“Beautiful,” Trew said.

“Cathartic.”

He pulled me against his side, and we watched the flames until nothing remained but smoke and cinders.

“Hungry?” he asked.

As if in answer, my stomach growled.

“Kerralyn packed food for us.” He retrieved his bag and pulled out a cloth-wrapped bundle. “Let’s see what we have.”

We settled on a flat rock near the spring, still naked and unbothered by it. He unwrapped the bundle to reveal bread, cheese, and several pieces of fruit.

“Kerralyn is a gift,” I said.

“She likes us.” He lifted a piece of bread and handed it to me.

I bit into it, moaning at the taste. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until food touched my tongue. “This is amazing.”

He cut a slice of cheese with a small knife from his pack, holding it up to my mouth.

I took it, maintaining eye contact as I ate from his fingers.

His eyes darkened. “Careful, love. We just got dry, and we burned our towel.”