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And as much as I didn’t want to think about forever, in the right now, I was grateful for Eli’s love. Without him, I’d have died—not once but twice, because the venom that had been injected into my body would’ve killed and converted me.
Chapter Twenty-Six
By the next day,I was feeling closer to normal—as long as I didn’t think about the question Eli had asked. Would I end up accidentally married if I spent some naked time with him? I didn’t love him. I couldn’t. I’d woken in his arms on the ground, and he’d carried me back to the soil where I continued to revive. If I had the choice, I’d appreciate a few more days to restore my strength, but that was not an option.
Today, we had been summoned to see the king ofElphame. A human woman arrived with a dress for me and orders that we attend the king’s meeting in an hour.
“I’ll wear my own clothes.” I glared at the diaphanous mass draped over her arm. “I’m not really a dress person.” That was a lie. I was fine with them, but not that one and not today. I smothered a sigh and was more truthful. “What I mean isthatdress is not my style.”
Eli reached out to pull me to his side, and I flinched. I didn’t intend to do so. It was a reasonable gesture after saving my life—and holding me while I slept. However, showing weakness in front of Eli alone was different. There was a stranger present, assessing me, sent here by a faery king who disliked me. That changed everything.
“You can’t wear blood-stained clothing,” the woman insisted. “Or a nightdress.”
“I have trousers and a tunic she can wear,” Eli replied before I could.
She scrunched her face up into an unpleasant expression. “I’ll leave it here. I was instructed to deliver the dress to the dead woman.”
“I am—”
“We have it from here,” Eli said loudly, as if to drown my protests and explanation. I wasn’t dead, though. Not converted todraugr.Not bleeding out on a floor. I felt like someone ought to be able to grasp that rather significant detail.
“Not dead,” I muttered.
The woman left without another glance my way, and I was left with the choice of the dress she had brought or Eli’s clothes.
“You are alive, sugar-drop.” Eli’s gaze swept me. “So, would you like to wear the delicate gown or would you like to get into my trousers?”
He delivered his offer with a perfectly sincere expression, and I couldn’t help the snort of laughter. I did try to sound serious, though. “I suspect I’d be much happier if I could get into your trousers.”
He nodded sagely. “I’ve thought so for years.”
Then he led me to his bedroom. Surprisingly, it was utterly devoid of interesting details. The room was plain wooden-walls and neutral-colored tile floors. Inside was an oversized-king bed with a plush down-filled quilt. If I knew quilts I might be able to read hints of a story or meaning in the pattern, but all I could say for sure was that it was geometric and bold. To the left of the bed was an immense wardrobe.
Eli went to the wardrobe and opened it. Silently, he withdrew several pairs of trousers in various fabrics, assorted tunics, a few pairs of what looked like leggings, and a heavy capelet.
I lifted a green pair of the leggings. “Yoga?”
“Formal events.” He smiled. “Nothing athletic, but definitely exhausting.”
“Well, yoga pants for formal events is a bonus in your world.”
“Women still wear gowns,” Eli said. “And the remaining attire for men is far from comfortable.” He held up what looked like a misshapen, jeweled turtle shell. “Codpiece.”
I smothered a grin and shook my head. “You can keep your crotch-armor, but I will borrow your yoga pants and a tunic.”
Eli paused awkwardly. “Are you able to . . .” He made vague gestures between me and the clothing I’d picked. “Or do you need help?”
“Just privacy.”
He nodded and, after grabbing several items, left me there to dress myself in his clothing.
* * *
We were ledinto a nearly-empty room, and Eli was directed to the center of the room. The king entered, took his throne, and glanced at us. I wasn’t sure if he was studying me or what he wanted of us. He was exceptionally fae and thoroughly implacable. If I didn’t know he found me objectionable, I’d be warmed by his bemused look at my make-shift court attire. I looked a bit foolish in emerald green leggings and a deep brown tunic. If I had my weapons, I’d feel like a fairy tale character who’d spent too long in the forest.
“Be welcome tonight, nephew.” The king met my gaze. “Death maiden.”
“Notdead,” I muttered. Louder, I said, “Faery king.”
