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“Never mind,” I relented.
“Where was it this time?” Cadence interrogated, still sifting through undergarments ranging from ribbed corsets to lace drawers. “Above ground, middle ground, or below ground?”
“Meaning location,” Vale quipped. “Not position.”
“We’ll get to the latter afterward,” Posy assured me.
A masculine throat cleared from the doorway. “Please tell me you’re talking about military strategy.”
We swiveled toward Eliot, who leaned his bulky shoulder against the jamb. A fitted, dark gray doublet accented the muscles of his body, with a deep fluted V collar that framed the lute tattoo stretching up his neck. The jacket blended with his pewter gray pants and corresponding boots, and his instrument case rested against his back.
As debonair as the ensemble was, it proved no match against the comically agonized expression on his face and the flush consuming his features. By no means was Eliot a chaste being. But from the looks of it, my oblivious best friend had waltzed in sometime betweenfucked within an inch of my lifeandbelow ground.
The ladies bunched their lips together, clogging what I only imagined was a year’s worth of guffaws. Mortified, I opened my mouth to apologize.
Instead, Eliot shook his head, pushed himself off the jamb, and dropped onto an ottoman. “As much as I prefer to know everything about Briar, you three have taught me there’s a limit. Spring origins aside, leave the positions, locations, and durations for my absence.”
“Then get out,” Cadence retorted, only half joking.
Posy and Vale snorted. “Sorry,” Posy muttered between laughter.
“She did not mean that,” I stressed.
“Oh, I bet she did,” Eliot said, tossing Cadence a mock glare. “Just because I lived incognito with you in the forest, and we subsisted on a diet of gruel and baked raccoon, and I’ve seen you traipsing around in moth-eaten lingerie, it doesn’t mean you have dibs on my princess.”
Posy and Vale wheeled toward Cadence. “You didn’t,” Posy insisted in sympathetic horror, glancing from their friend to Eliot and me. “Baked raccoon? Moth-eaten lingerie?”
“He is a minstrel,” I bantered. “He’s used to exaggerating.”
“Whatever,” Cadence said to Eliot, resuming her audit of my lingerie. “If you’re going to stay, make yourself useful and play some music.”
The minstrel rolled his eyes and set the instrument on the ground beside him. “I’ll play once you’ve earned the privilege. Until then, you’re not entitled to shit, milady.” His mouth twisted. “If you don’t mind me saying so.”
Cadence feigned a glower, then nodded. “Good. At least you know how to keep up with me.”
Their spirited bickering and wisecracks had not ceased since our return. Whereas Eliot and I considered ourselves long-lost siblings, the minstrel and lady verbally roughhoused like loyal but antagonistic cousins.
I fisted my hands on my waist and pruned my mouth at Cadence, who’d been reviewing every private article I owned from the moment she’d joined us. “Under no circumstances are you permitted to borrow any of those.”
“Relax,” she dismissed, flapping her hand my way as if to shush me. “I’m not looking for myself. My expectations were low, but thankfully your stash isn’t half as disappointing as I’d expected.”
“In other words, she’s impressed,” Posy translated.
Well, I was not flattered. What exactly had she anticipated? Autumn typically donned knee and ankle-length bloomers beneath their clothes, the styles modest as well as practical for this climate. However, that did not mean those were the only cuts we wore. Not least of all, I was intimately attached with the most provocative man on the continent, who’d contributed to the contents of my wardrobe.
On that note, if they only knew that Poet had done more than merely dress me in this wardrobe, shortly after he’d fondled the same undergarments currently at Cadence’s disposal. If I told them that, they’d make me repeat the story every time they strolled in here.
Cadence whistled, fluffing out a skimpy pair of sheer briefs. “Now this is what I call a power choice.” With approval, she pitched the item toward me.
In reflex, I caught the fabric and huffed out an exasperated breath. Nonetheless, my frown melted despite myself, and Cadence grinned conspiratorially.
I should have been offended by her indiscretion. Less than a year ago, I would have been. Yet after everything that had happened, from the Peace Talks to our isolation in The Lost Treehouses, we had changed. She’d witnessed me depleted on forest floor, just after I’d scraped my nails through the earth, searching for my lost ribbon bracelet.
With Eliot, we had braved the wilderness and spent months in solitude, learning to survive outside the confines of a castle. And although the woman had acclimated back to her routine amid the court, we often found ourselves trading silent glances such as this. Together and with my best friend, the three of us remembered that brief spell, when we ceased to be Royal, lady, and minstrel.
Even before then, each member of this clan had seen me treated with scorn during the Lark’s Night carnival. They’d beheld me covered in blood during the courtyard carnage against the Masters and were present for my political collapse. I had very little to hide from them now.
So no. I did not mind Cadence inspecting my daintiest clothes. Particularly not after she’d made the subtext of her intentions clear.
