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All this time, I thought I was doing them a favor by keeping away, by not forcing my awkward, foreign company on what was already clearly a complicated situation, but apparently, I had done quite the opposite. They despise me.
They despise me,yet love their king? The beast of a man who yells at women and forces —allowsthem to conceal themselves from the world. Or, at least, from the rest of the castle.
A thought pricks at the back of my mind, and a new train of thought rushes in unannounced.
Maybe they’re hiding from me.
The very idea is unnerving and, if I’m perfectly honest with myself, disappointing.
My chalyx paws at my legs, and I take her queue. I’ve learned enough about the castle and the people in it for one evening.
Chapter Twenty
When I awake the next day, I decide to do things differently. Sigrid fusses over the scrape on my forehead and applies a pungent ointment that she swears will help.
It’s certainly vile enough to rival the tonic she gave me for the mountain sickness, so I can at least trust in its efficacy.
After my bath, I sit down to breakfast alone, but I’m not quite ready to let Sigrid leave.
“I was wondering if you might be able to help me with something?” I begin.
“Mistress?” Her voice is just a hair on the hesitant side, bringing home the unwelcome realization that I’m considered a wild card here.
“It’s been too cold for me to stray from my rooms very much,” I explain, realizing full well how feeble my excuse is. “But I was thinking, if I had warmer clothing, that I might be able to get out more. You know, around other people.”
Sigrid stares at me silently, her veil concealing her features. I’m not sure exactly what she thinks of what I’ve said until she closes the gap between us in three long strides, takes my face in her gloved hands, and presses her veiled face to the top of my head.
“You make me so happy, today,” she says, her voice lighter than it has been in weeks. “I have just the things for you. Come.”
She grabs hold of my hand and pulls me to the wardrobe where she placed all of the clothes I brought with me.
Moving aside the gauzy dresses, she pulls open the lid to a chest within the wardrobe, one that I had no idea was even there, and removes several articles of clothing.
Laying them out on my bed, she fusses until I can see the full outfit.
White and grey fur-lined pants accompany a long-sleeved fitted top of the same material. What had looked barbaric on our wedding day appears somehow softer now, more welcoming and practical in a way that appeals to my own pragmatic nature.
It must have just been the man wearing them who made them so off-putting before.
What catches my attention and nearly steals my breath is the hooded cape she has provided. Not only is it a practical solution for the chill I can never seem to shake, something no one has yet thought to offer me, but it’s red.
All this time, I’ve felt so...distant, so unseen, so very different from the rest of the castle. But Sigrid saw my wedding dress and the rest of my wardrobe and, instead of trying to force me into the dreary gray way of life here, she infused that gloom with color. My favorite color. And she made it feel like mine.
I run my hands over it, studying every inch of the stunning garment. Deep shades of crimson and ruby and garnet form an abstract pattern of roses in the soft crushed velvet. My breath hitches at the harsh memories and the constant reminder that the flower brings to mind.
The whole glorious thing is offset by bright white fur lining, lending the gorgeous cloak even more warmth.
Even if I can never gaze at the cursed flowers without seeing my sister in their every stem, petal, and even each thorn, I will wear the clothes with pride.
I will imagine her at my side, lending me her endless well of optimism, her own brand of strength, in a world with far too little of it.
I swallow, taking in the matching boots and thick, warm socks that my toes can hardly wait to wiggle into.
“Thank you,” I say, choking back the emotion that has come unbidden, as I hold the items close to me to compare the sizes.
“I am have them made when you get here. But when you stay in your bed so much, is no use.”
Normally, her chastisement might chafe, but I am too grateful to focus on anything else now. Besides, she’s not wrong.
