“No, we talked about a lot, but never roses.”
“Perhaps they are illusory? She was tremendously gifted.”
“It’s possible.” Becka picked a peach-colored rose, twirling it between her fingers. “But I doubt it.”
“How would we know, right? It’s said only other illusionists are trained to perceive the art.”
Becka narrowed her gaze at him. “Yes, that’s what they say, and no, I wouldn’t know. I never trained, remember?”
“I just thought, because you had been raised among them, that maybe you would have gained some insight into their techniques? I know in the Earth Guild we trained at a young age, well before any gifts evidenced themselves.”
Was this the way all Enforcers were, or was he specifically grilling her for information? “Illusionist students must demonstrate the gift before training begins. All learning is shielded from those not deemed suitable. So no, I don’t know how it’s done, or how to detect it.” A bell rang out, which Becka recognized as a call to dinner. “Crap, I’m not ready for this.”
She crossed to the dressing room and threw the doors open, bringing her bags with her. The room was lined with racks filled with custom tailored outfits with drawers and shelves for shoes underneath. At the far end of the room was the en suite bathroom with every amenity one could imagine. Off to the right side was a changing nook in a rotunda of mirrors.
Some of Tesse’s outfits she recognized, but most were entirely new to her. Like the dress made of living lavender roses, which was likely an enchantment created by Tesse herself. Becka marveled at it, but couldn’t bring herself to touch it.
There was a separate standing rack near the door containing a handful of gray-toned dresses, no doubt set aside for her use during the funeral events. Simple yet elegant, they were refined and finely made, yet not extravagant.
“I suppose these were Tesse’s too.”
“You were identical twins?” he asked.
“Yes, so her clothes should fit me,” Becka ran her hand along the set aside dresses. “They expect me to step into her space, her clothes, her shoes. Like I’m her ghost.” She sighed, frustration warring with sadness sitting like a weight on her chest. “I refuse to wear her clothes. It’s too macabre.”
“Then do not.”
Surprised by his unexpected support, Becka’s irritation with him faded a tinge. She lifted her suitcase onto a dresser and opened it, rifling through her clothing options. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you’re encouraging my rebellious attitude, but it’s still novel to hear it coming from a fae.” She located her bottles of ghost pepper sauce and placed them alongside her toiletries bag.
He raised a brow at the hot sauce. “You know that’s not allowed here. It’s considered sensorially damaging to fae taste buds.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t we have bigger issues at stake than my penchant for peppers?”
He shrugged. “You have been outside this world for nearly a decade. Of everyone here for the funeral, your history places you in a unique position. I do not feel you should be beholden to fae standards.”
“That’s fortunate for me.” Becka raised a bottle to her lips and took a long sip. A burning fire lit up her lips, mouth, and then throat. Her eyes watered, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe through her nose. When the sensation abated, not only could she breathe again but also the desired secondary effect kicked in. A euphoric sensation flowed outward from her belly to the top of her head and the tips of her toes. Her headache loosened its iron grip, and then she sighed in relief.
As the pain lessened, something clicked in Becka’s brain. “Wait a minute, I think I know why you’re shadowing me.”
“I have already explained to you the reasons why.”
She pulled out a pair of extra wide yoga trousers and a vee-neck wraparound blouse, both in black, and then headed into the changing nook. For once, Quinn wisely didn’t follow. She undressed, hanging her outfit on one of the many hooks lining the wall.
“I know what you told me, but we’ve already established that although you claim you don’t lie, you’re also not the full disclosure sort of guy.”
Quinn chuckled. “Right. But I do not lie.”
“Yeah, we’ll see about that.” Becka shimmied into the pants. “But what I was getting at is that your story about shadowing me for my own protection can’t be the whole truth.”
“Oh really? What’s your theory then, Detective Becka?”
Becka snorted, slipping into the blouse. “I’m aiming for a doctorate, not a detective. Anyway, you’re asking a lot of questions about the House of Mirrors and Tesse.”
“I am an Enforcer detective. Asking questions is what I do.”
Checking her outfit in the mirror, Becka adjusted the waistband then pulled the blouse tight, cinching the ties around her waist. The fabric was gauzy fabric with a lotus pattern etched into it; perhaps the icon would help remind her to keep her mindful balance despite the crazy-inducing circumstances? She returned to her suitcase and located a beaded jet necklace.
“Could you help me out?” She held the necklace out to him.
Quinn’s look of momentary confusion shifted to a whisper of a smile. “Of course.” She lifted her hair and he deftly handled the necklace’s delicate clasp around her neck, and then remained behind her.
Becka watched his face in the mirrors. “Thank you. I think you’re here investigating Tesse’s murder using my arrival and potential danger ruse as a cover.”
Quinn didn’t appear surprised. “As an Enforcer, I am trained to leverage every situation to my guild’s advantage. As I have said before, shadowing you is my assignment. It is assumed I will be exposed to information which could aid our investigation.”
Becka pursed her lips. “So why not just ask Maura for permission to continue the formal investigation?”
“The Duchess is a difficult woman. She insisted we conclude our search before the funerary vigil started.”
Becka swept past him, brushing against his shoulder on the way out
