That memory was easier. “Nohr. Ten years later. Broken leg.”
Seville regarded me for a long moment down the length of her straight nose, then scoffed. And yet there was still a touch of sadness, of understanding, that she couldn’t fully mask in her eyes.
“The tailor’s kid’s broken nose, your brother’s leg, Tasia’s cut.” She ticked off the occurrences on her fingers one by one. “You have a soft spot for children.”
I lifted my shoulder. “Perhaps.”
“Keep that to yourself around Evers. Next thing you know, you’ll be a broodmare. Children are rare among my kind. Our magic is picky like that.” She waved Mrs.Marlow back over and inspected a fresh batch of gowns before letting out a disappointed sigh. “But some mortals have been known to get pregnant with an Ever child.”
Color leeched from my face as I stared at her through the mirror. “I wouldn’t live long enough to see them grow. I don’t want to experience that.”
Seville watched me for a long moment. “Fair enough.” Then she stepped down from the platform to saunter toward me, leaving Mrs.Marlow to fuss after her. When she was only mere inches away, she folded her arms beneath her bust and settled her weight into one hip. “Seems like it’ll be bespoke attire for both of us. None of those gowns suited me. Go on, it’s your turn.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine with something here.”
She grinned. “But Orin won’t.”
Her small chuckle filled my ears, and I bit back a heated curse. It was always something with her. What did she think was going on with Orin and me? We hadn’t evenkissed. Not that I didn’t want to. I silenced a groan as I stepped around Seville. She sunk onto a low settee by the window and reclined like a goddess with her legs stretched over the tufted fabric. With a small wave, she gestured for me to move. I looked between her and Mrs.Marlow, who did nothing but tightly grip the hem of a sky-blue gown.
Stepping onto the dais, I stared at myself in the mirror. “I suppose being here with you is better than with Tasia and Amalyss. They wanted to dress me like a doll the first time I met them.”
“In case you haven’t figured it out already, I am by far thebestFernglove.” Seville cradled her head with one hand and draped the other across her stomach. Then she glanced at Mrs.Marlow. “Bring me some tea and draw the curtains. Edira is being fitted for undergarments as well. Something black and lacy.”
I whirled on her without stepping down from the platform as Mrs.Marlow practically vanished into thin air. “For fuck’s sake, is this really necessary?”
“It is necessary. For fuck’s sake specifically.” She let out a dark chuckle, but there was no mirth to her expression. “Don’t fight it.”
“Why?”
“Because if you are going to find a way to survive this mess,then you’ll need all the help you can get.” She glared at me, and even still, she was beautiful. Remarkable.
I swallowed thickly as I stared at her. “It doesn’t matter what I wear, so long as I do my job.”
“Your job. Is that what you’ve been doing with Orin?” With practiced ease, she unbuttoned the top of her silk blouse to reveal a hint of something satin and trimmed in lace. It was only a shade darker than her skin, giving the illusion that she was revealing much more than she actually showed—and I wondered if that wasn’t Seville in a nutshell. She’d perfected the image, the glamour, of want and desire, and no one really knew what she hid beneath it all.
A slow-moving heat flushed my face. “What are you doing?”
“That’s a lovely hue.” Her gaze targeted my cheeks, and my stomach squirmed. “The best thing about silk and lace is how disarming they can be. They’re a type of armor, in a way.” Her words were smooth as syrup, her motions flawless as she redid her button and reclined against the settee.
And still, I was frozen. “You hardly need armor.”
Mrs.Marlow returned at that point with a silver tray arranged with tea and sugar, and she placed it before Seville, reaching behind her to draw the beige curtains closed. Then she moved to me and began to free my torso of clothing. My mind spun as I stared at Seville. Her words, her thoughts, were impossible to follow.
Tilting her head in my direction, Seville regarded Mrs.Marlow as she measured beneath my bust. “Everyone needs armor. But more importantly, you need what this particular type of armor gives you.”
“And that is?”
Seville waited until Mrs.Marlow excused herself in the pursuit of fabric. Once she’d shuffled away, Seville leaned forward and served herself tea. “The freedom to look without being seen.”
A cold chill raced down my spine. “What?”
“I quite liked your aunt,” she continued, ignoring my question entirely. “I dare say I considered her a friend.”
In the subdued, warm light of the shop, I felt strangely exposed, and it had little to do with my lack of blouse. I fought the urge to cross my arms over my chest, to hide the simple linen undergarments and bare skin.
“Why did you bring me here, Seville?”
She took a long sip of her tea before leveling me with a sharp look. “We used to trade letters unbeknownst to the family.”
