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“Not if I am with two women,” Taj says, leaning back to give Kiaran’s now clean-shaved face a critical look.
“Two women?” Kiaran frowns at Taj. “What is this game?”
“A game of disguises. The guards won’t look twice at a young aristocrat with his two sisters traveling to the capital for a matchmaking meeting.”
“Taj…” I snort. “You wouldn’t.”
“He’s pretty, isn’t he?” Taj smirks at Kiaran. “Think he’ll fool them?”
“What?” Kiaran glances from him to me and back, his frown turning into a scowl. “What are you saying?”
“Don’t worry about it, Drakoryas.” Taj pats Kiaran’s shoulder. “I’ll make you look good, trust me.”
“This is a dress,” Kiaran says, looking down at himself. “I want pants.”
“Sorry, man, this is the only thing that would fit you.” Taj’s eyes sparkle. “Comfy, isn’t it? And you can piss without any hassle. Just lift it. See?”
“Dresses are for women,” Kiaran glowers at him. “I ask again, what is this game?”
“It’s the best disguise,” Taj says. “To get out of town. I’ll bring pants for you to change into afterward, okay?”
“Not okay,” Kiaran barks. “You wear dress, I wear pants!”
“Oh, dear Gods. You are prettier, okay? More Fae blood in you, by my guess. Come on, be a good sport.”
I’m staring at Kiaran in the blue dress and can’t deny that the fire raging in me flares at the sight. It’s strange. Kiaran is as masculine as they come, no matter what Taj says, though sure, his face is a touch more delicate than Taj’s. Could be his pale coloring, too.
But there’s something so hot about the contrast between his hard jaw and broad shoulders and the corset, the long, flouncy skirt, the lace. Funny and sexy, too.
Making him look even more like a Wildman.
Even more like a man.
“We’ll throw a shawl over his shoulders,” Taj says, following my gaze. “And a hat on his head. It’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure you’re not just doing this for your own perverse pleasure?” I arch a brow at him.
He shoots me a quick grin. “One has to suck every little pleasure out of life, sweetheart.”
Kiaran is tugging at a lacy sleeve. “Itchy,” he complains.
“We should hurry before Kiaran tears the dress off him,” I say.
“Good thinking.”
Then Kiaran grabs Taj and shoves him against the wall. “You,” he hisses.
“Oops.” Taj is still grinning like a fool. “Yes?”
“You make fun of me.”
Taj’s grin fades a little. “Listen, I’m serious. You look good, my man, and you’d be helping us.”
“I don’t look good.” Kiaran glares.
“I don’t want you any less in a dress, you idiot. I want you no matter what you wear, don’t you get it? Just like I want Ariadne just as much in pants. You’re a Wildman. Why are clothes important to you, huh?”
“Society,” he mutters. “Finnen said… I must learn. Manners. Social norms.”
