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“I understand what you must be thinking, and I can assure you that the trunk of clothes appeared in that tent the moment your vows were complete.”
My attention snapped back to the present.
Hector smiled, but the warmth didn’t reach his eyes. “Rafael Romero has been waiting for you for a very long time.”
I stared at him for several moments, panic rising in my chest. Running wasn’t really an option. I’d have to steal one of the horses to get away, which felt wrong, considering Rafael had already given Papá one of his horses. And if these fae really had magic, what good would come from trying to escape? Besides, I’d said my vows. I was bound.
My resolve cracked, and I walked quietly back to the tent and slipped inside. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing that Rafael had been waiting for me, but it did make my skin crawl, just a little. If he’d been waiting so long for me, why had he left so fast?
From outside the tent, Hector called, “You should find everything you need, but if you lack anything, let me know.”
“Oh, just my husband,” I muttered grumpily to myself. Not that I was looking forward to our happily ever after. However, I’d try to make the most of it, one way or another.
When I sat down in the cushioned chair, my leg stuck out grotesquely from the rip in the skirt. I cringed, hating that so many people had seen me in such a state, including the stranger I’d recently married. He wasn’t supposed to see that until…well, later.
The thought made it hard to swallow for several seconds.
But he’d vanished, and I was here, sweating in this fabulous tent and smelling like an unfortunate fish stuck in a shrinking tide pool.
The fine fabrics in the trunk drew my eye. Magic clothing sounded so preposterous that I rolled my eyes. But when I knelt to touch the shining silks and soft linens, I chuckled with delight. Magic or not, these were exquisite. Zara always said fine clothes were meant to be enjoyed, not hung in an armoire somewhere—or, as it were, stuffed in a trunk.
I pulled out a blue dress. The fabric was lighter than any I’d felt. It swished and moved, unlike the stiff fabrics of many of my dresses. The ties at the back loosened easily, and there was no hard ribbing in the bodice at all.
I laid the dress over the bed and then pulled out a deep magenta one. It had ruffles along the bottom hem. A ballgown. Draping that one over the bed, I scooped up a third.
I continued until I’d examined every single item in the trunk, from breathtaking ballgowns to silken nightgowns that made me blush to linen riding blouses. Each item brought a new smile to my face, a fresh burst of excitement at the idea that these were all for me. But nothing excited me more than a pair of riding breeches that looked as though they would fit me perfectly.
My smile broadened, then faltered. How could he have known I wore breeches when training horses with Papá?
At the bottom of the trunk, I found a pair of tall boots. I lifted my foot to compare–they were my size. Unexpected sadness rippled through me. Ever since I’d been big enough to ride a horse, Papá had supplied me with tall riding boots similar to the ones he wore. He’d always said I needed the proper attire if I was going to train champions with him.
For a ghost of a man who knew little other than my name, Rafael Romero strangely understood me. A wave of goosepimples covered my arms as I glanced behind me at the tent entrance.
It was too personal. Too…frightening.
I stumbled away from the piles of clothing and slapped a hand to my forehead.
Stars above. I’d married a fae. Now I was bound to this man’s magic as much as his body or his name or his wealth. The wealth I could handle. Even the name I could grow accustomed to. And I understood fully what it was to be joined together with my husband, though the reality of that particular piece of the puzzle was not something I wanted to dwell on.
It was the magic, however, that I couldn’t fathom. If, as our vows declared, all that was his was now mine, what did that mean of his magic? Surely, I couldn’t make things appear out of thin air.
Just to be sure, I closed my eyes and pictured Zara standing in the tent with me.
No one appeared.
The heat inside the tent was quickly reaching a stifling temperature, and though the customary afternoon siesta was still a couple of hours away, I was already yawning incessantly.
Glancing around at the opulence within the tent, I looked for something small, heavy, and movable. I settled for an octagonal table, carved with intricate leaf patterns.
I picked up the table and yelped in surprise as the top immediately came off. After nestling it back on, I moved the whole thing and settled it right in front of the tent door. That should alert me if any intruders tried to enter while I slept.
I set the washbasin and pitcher beside the bed and bathed behind the mosquito netting, as if it were a changing screen. After wiping away all the dirt and sweat, I discovered on the dresser a bottle of sweet-smelling oil with a lovely citrus scent. I rubbed a little on my arm and it warmed against my skin. Soon, my whole body felt brand new and smelled like a fresh orange.
In minutes, however, sweat again dampened my skin, and I frowned. In the pile of clothes now lying across the bed, I dug out a nightgown of the highest quality. It dripped from my fingers like oil and felt as cool as water on my skin.
I changed and climbed into bed, sighing with relief as I settled in among the fluffy pillows that, strangely enough, remained cool against my skin. If this was magic, maybe it wasn’t so bad.
Soon, my exhaustion won out, and I sailed into a dreamless sleep.
