Was I attracted to him?
Surely not—well, perhaps a little—but any woman would be; he was a breathtaking specimen of male perfection. But was I attracted to him? And if so, did it mean anything?
I glanced back at the dress.
If I wore it, would it mean he controlled me the same way I’d been controlled before?
I traced my fingers along the jagged, puffy scars covering my hands and arms. I’d promised never to fall in love again, and although I had to admit I was attracted to Maveryck, it meant nothing. Wearing the dress meant nothing. It was simply a tool to aid me in my attempt to blend in, and that was all. I snatched the clothing off the bed and entered the bathing chamber. This room looked as luxurious as the bedroom, with a marble tub, a sink with gold fixtures, and a separate shower.
I bathed quickly while trying to talk myself out of my emotions. I knew nothing about Maveryck—where he came from, who his ancestors were. I didn’t even know where the man lived or why he chose to wear the clothing of an elf when he was most likely Wult.
The lavender-scented soap washed away the blood and grime from my hair and skin. When I felt ready, I left the tub and toweled off.
I slipped on the dress, pulling it over my head and shoulders, and let it fall into place. Although the sleeves and bodice fit comfortably, it felt strange not to wear my breastplate, like I’d lost a part of myself. But Maveryck was right, perhaps I had been hiding behind my armor for too long, yet after years of wearing it on a daily basis, it was impossible not to miss.
I found a brush in a package on the counter, and after combing through the long strands, I contemplated whether to wear my hair in the usual braid or ponytail or if I should leave it hanging loosely around my shoulders. It had a tendency to curl at the ends, so most times I refused to deal with it by opting to put it up and out of the way. But since I’d already done away with my armor, I decided to leave my hair down.
As I glanced in the mirror, I hardly recognized myself. A woman—not a warrior—stared back at me. I’d never thought of myself as attractive, but the person in the mirror was almost pretty.
The dark strands of my hair brushed against the exposed skin of my neck and chest, and the dress fit snugly around my breasts and waist, tapering at my hips. Running my hands over the fabric, it felt soft and silky, nothing like the cold metal of my breastplate. If it weren’t for the scars covering my hands and forearms, some would consider me beautiful. Thankfully, my brother was nowhere to be found. He would have never let me live this one down.
I had almost convinced myself I was okay with the dress, and then I slipped on the shoes. As I stood, I felt my knees wobble, and it took a great deal of balance and coordination to make it out of the room and down to the hotel’s bottom floor to the restaurant.
Exhaling nervously, I stood outside the restaurant’s doorway. When a man questioned my seating arrangements, I realized I could no longer go through with sharing a meal with Maveryck. A tight knot formed in my stomach, making me queasy.
The man questioned me again. I could only mumble a reply before I turned to leave, but as I did, Maveryck appeared at the doorway.
“Heidel?” The way he said my name made me stop and slowly turn toward him. He had changed his clothing again, and now wore a suit with a dark coat that accentuated his broad shoulders. He’d pulled his hair back, bringing attention to his high elven cheekbones.
My goodness, can the man be any more gorgeous?
I straightened. Although I no longer wore my armor, I was not weak, so I stood tall.
“Hello, Maveryck,” I said.
“Heidel.” He nodded.
“Well, are you going to escort me inside or not?”
He offered his hand, and the knot in my stomach tightened. What was I doing? I couldn’t share my dinner with him. I wanted no part in whatever my feelings were doing to me. I couldn’t afford to fall in love, and being dangerously attracted was the first step.
And yet as I reached for him, I couldn’t seem to stop.
“You look beautiful,” he said, and then he slowly kissed my knuckles, his lips soft and warm. A shiver ran through my body. What would his lips feel like pressed against mine?
He spoke with such grace—an old-world charm that was long forgotten. His voice’s seductive edge drew me to him. I couldn’t look away as he straightened and led me inside the softly lit restaurant. The serene ambiance seemed to come from everywhere—from the bouquets of white roses, to the quartet of musicians playing stringed instruments.
Maveryck led me to a small, cloth-covered table and politely pulled out a chair for me. In Faythander, I would have likely pulled my sword on any man offering me a seat, but since I was in Earth Kingdom, and since none of my kinsfolk was here to see me, I didn’t argue. I hardly felt like myself. In fact, I felt at peace, yet at the same time, vulnerable. Conflicting emotions warred within me, and I wasn’t sure which would win.
Maveryck took his seat across from me. Everything on the table seemed to gleam, from the porcelain plates, the knives and forks, and the crystal glasses.
“How do you like it here?” Maveryck asked me.
I shrugged. “It’s a bit too lavish for my taste.”
“I see.” He sipped his water.
“Everything is too fragile. I feel as if I might break something.”
“It’s not so terrible, is it?”
“Maybe not for you.” I eyed him. He seemed overly comfortable in this world. It was time he gave me answers.
