Page 35

Chapter 30 ~ Midharvest

Rígan

“Oh, Rígan, you have to go with this one.”

Bryn and I stood surrounded by dresses in the Grove’s clothier’s shop. It was located beside the bakery, and the sweet smells of sugar, fruits, and cinnamon wafted over, promising tasty treats for the celebration beginning in an hour. We’d been in the shop for ages, trying on dresses and giggling the entire time. Like we used to. I’d missed it.

Amusement washed over me at her continued enthusiasm. “I need you to stop showing me dresses, Bryn.”

“Why?”

“Because.” I pushed the current suggestion, a light purple piece of art, further into Bryn’s grasp. Truly, the clothier’s collection was astounding. “I’ll want to wear all of them, and that’s just not possible, is it?”

“Who forbade outfit changes?”

I flipped my hair, loosely curled for the occasion, over my shoulder. “Well, I suppose I would be the definition of fabulous.” She gave a full belly laugh, inciting the same reaction in me. “Alright, alright. You’ve already picked yours”—how she’d settled on the right one so quickly, I didn’t know; there were six that had been exquisite on her—“and I really have to choose mine.”

Bryn rifled through the options in my size. A piece of emerald green fabric caught my attention, soft and silky and embroidered.

“What’s that one?”

Bryn pulled it out. “You definitely need to wear this one.”

I held it up, careful not to pull any of the threading, the same color as the fabric. The stitching showcased intricate vines and leaves, adorning the thick straps and V-neck bodice, trailing down into the light, fluttery skirt. A forest made material.

Seeing this one, I understood how Bryn had chosen hers.

“This was made for you,” she said.

I held it to my chest and gave a wicked grin. “Shall we test it out?”

Almost an hour later, with my hair styled half-up and black kohl thinly lining my lids, I felt like a vision. The dress inspired me to stand regally, the skirt sweeping along the ground as I walked and the bodice doing wonderful things for my breasts. Strap a sword down my back and I’d have been invincible.

Maya whistled low when she saw me emerge from the clothier’s, where I’d finished getting ready. Bryn had gone ahead to the festival, having offered to help with finishing touches. I struck a pose, soaking in Maya’s admiration.

“Rígan, holy shit. You’ll be turning heads.”

I studied her and Lou. “The three of us will be turning heads.”

Maya wore a long burgundy tunic fitted to the waist before falling to her knees, where it gave way to matching tights. All of it was embroidered with bronze threading, giving the impression of lace. A sliver of sunlight sparkled off the light dusting of bronze powder on her collarbones and cheeks and the small bronze clips at the base of her high bun, a curl artfully left out to frame her face. A light sheen of red coated her mouth.

Lou adjusted his tunic, slightly shorter but as fitted as Maya’s, sporting matching trousers underneath. They were both turquoise with white details in the shape of waves and whirls, screaming Birrin Isles. He’d drawn a swoop of turquoise on his eyelids, adding a layer of dramatics he pulled out for occasions like this. His fingernails were painted to match.

I held my arms out to them both. “Shall we?”

The pathway to the glade down from the village was lined with jarred candles, their light catching against shadows like fireflies. Their twinkling glinted off each other, transporting us to another world. Despite the sun still being out, it was barely visible in this part of the forest, any light getting through the leaves creating a latticework of art on the forest floor. It was intimate. Magical.

A long-forgotten hum settled in my bones, and I held my head higher.

Most of the village had gathered in the glade, where bushels of grain resting against trunks and garlands of leaves hanging from branches worked as added decoration. Tables were laden with food and drink, baked goods and meats and cheeses and the apple beverages the Grove was famous for.

“Rígan!” Bryn’s shout came from my right. Her curls, kept down, bounced as she walked. The light blue of her dress, simple yet dazzling, brought the sky to the ground. Her eyes—the exact shade of the dress, lashes curled—sparkled.

“I cannot get over how incredible that dress looks on you,” I said. It hugged her frame perfectly, the delicate sleeves falling off her shoulders while the light fabric, similar to mine, fluttered around her after flaring just above her hips. She looked ethereal.

“I feel wonderful in it.” She bit her lip, her face rigid, nervous, behind the smile.

I dared a glance at Maya. Her jaw dropped as she took in my sister.

“You look wonderful, Bryn,” Lou said. “Doesn’t she, Maya?”

Maya started to speak, but Bryn dove in first. “Lou, I saw Brí over there. She was looking for you. I think áine’s with her, too.”

“Why don’t we go say hi?” Lou turned to Maya, who’d skillfully recovered.

“Yeah, sure. Are you coming, Rígan?”

“You two go ahead.”

Bryn groaned when they left earshot. “Why am I so awkward around pretty women?”

“It’s adorable.”

“You would say that.” Something behind me caught her attention. “Enough about me.”

“Bryn—”

“Dàibhid’s here.”

I dropped what I was about to say. There, on the other side of the glade, stood Dàibhid. He’d gone for a casual look, less king and more average man. Was it to politely refute what the Grove believed about his heritage? Whatever the case, I wasn’t complaining. He wore a brown leather vest that set off his eyes. A white tunic underneath, the sleeves partially rolled to reveal his forearms. Trousers that did great things for his thighs and somehow looked as soft as his hair. Which was adorably tousled, like he hadn’t bothered to do much with it. I supposed he hadn’t had time to pack a comb.

I was alright with that.

Bryn’s finger pushed my mouth closed. “Before you drool.”

“Shut up.” I kept staring. It wasn’t often that I could look at him like this. My mouth turned dry. I tried reminding myself that I needed distance from him. But looking from afar was technically distant.

When he turned, his gaze immediately landed on me. I watched as he took me in, helpless to do otherwise. His own mouth dropped. Closed. Dropped again. When his eyes found mine, my pulse pounded twice as hard.

Dàibhid excused himself from those around him and made his way to me.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi.”

Bryn took a small side step. “I’m going to . . .”

Then she was gone, leaving me alone with him.

“You . . .” Dàibhid’s eyes trailed over me again, sending a glorious heat in their wake. “You look incredible.”

“So do you.”

He blushed. “It’s just normal clothing.”

“I happen to like you in normal clothing.”

His mouth ticked up. The rational part of me warned I needed to go over to my friends and away from him. I might have felt terror at the thought of something happening to him when we’d reached Ardanna, and I might have realized I’d missed him, terribly, upon our arrival here, but that was exactly why I had to back away. Those emotions made me want to be close to him, but I couldn’t risk that. Couldn’t risk him piecing it all together. This was a line that shouldn’t be crossed.

But damn it if I didn’t want a final moment of closeness with him. To firmly reassure myself that he was alright.

The fiddler started to play, and Dàibhid held out his hand.

His tentative smile quieted the riot in my head. “Would you like to dance?”

It was reckless. Foolish. I should have said no.

I took his hand.

His fingers were warm around mine, the callouses of his pads sliding along my skin. His hand at my waist was a bigger distraction than I anticipated. Every ounce of attention went to where he touched me. His hold tightened as he searched my face, like he wasn’t sure this was real. It was cute.

He spun me, my dress twirling magically, the flickering lights glinting off the green. When he caught me, I was breathless with giddiness. With happiness.

With want.

“You seem happy,” he said.

“You know, I believe I am.”

He smiled and spun me again.

“So do you,” I said once we were face-to-face.

He faltered, but kept a grin on. It didn’t reach his eyes.

I had to keep myself from rubbing my hand down his arm. “You’re allowed to be. Happy, that is.”

“I am happy. This is making me happy.”

Was I making him happy?

I might have stopped myself from rubbing his arm, but my fingers had found their way to the back of his neck, drawing small circles. His breath hitched, and I moved my hand back to his shoulder. Not enough of me cared that I had slipped. Too much of me wanted to go back to his neck, thread my fingers through his hair and find out exactly how soft it was.

“But you feel guilty, too,” I said.

“Maybe a little.”

I pinched his shoulder. “No guilt today. Only fun.” Just for today. Tomorrow could wait.

The music picked up into something livelier, and Dàibhid smirked. “Like this?”

He skipped into the song, causing me to shriek and grip him tighter. He laughed against me, a proper laugh, his whole being shaking with it. I smiled so wide my cheeks hurt.

Around us, the people of the Grove, the guards, and our friends danced. Even áine—in a straight-cut golden dress—joined, proving capable despite the reluctance in her features. As group dances picked up in number, Dàibhid and I were pulled apart and brought back together more times than I could count. Every time I found him beside me, my heart punched me in the ribs in an oddly pleasant way.

Breathless after yet another group dance, Lou huffing beside me as my final partner for the number, I clutched my side and motioned to the refreshments. Lou waved me on, not yet ready for a break. I stumbled over to the tables, my feet aching despite the comfortable slippers.

I grabbed a glass and took a sip of sweet apple wine, catching sight of Maya and Bryn chatting across the glade as I did.

“I will not interfere,” I muttered to myself.

“What won’t we interfere with?”

I jumped, wine dribbling unflatteringly onto my chin, and found Dàibhid standing behind me.

“Shit, Dàibhid.”

He put up his hands, eyes twinkling. “Sorry. Saw you over here alone and thought you might want some company.”

“That was thoughtful of you. Not so much the startling part, though.” I wiped the wine from myself and glanced to where Maya and Bryn were.

Dàibhid followed my gaze. “Ah, yes, that.”

“You’ve noticed?”

“There are people who haven’t? Besides the two of them, I mean.”

I snorted. “I’ve promised myself I won’t intervene, and I’ve recently started to mean it.”

He chuckled, and my chest fluttered for the millionth time that night. “Only recently?”

I bit my lip and he quieted, catching my seriousness. “Bryn has had a hard time with relationships, and she wants to figure out more about herself before trying again. And then Maya—” I stopped. These weren’t my details to share.

“Her ex?”

I nodded, allowing that concession. Maya hadn’t had a serious relationship since she’d left him. I hoped she wouldn’t let the memories of that lying son of a bitch prevent her from one, though. He didn’t get to win like that.

“I hope she can let that pain go,” he said.

He really did care about all of us, deeply. I knew it, but seeing it created a strange ache in me. “Me too.”

“But good on you for not intervening. I’m a little surprised, if I’m honest.”

“Oh?”

“I didn’t peg you for the patient type.”

I flicked his arm. “Watch it.”

He rubbed the spot like I’d actually hurt him. “I don’t think you’re supposed to speak to kings like that.”

I put my hands on my hips. “So stop me.”

His gaze flashed to my chest. My pose made it more prominent; I hadn’t meant for that to happen, but I refused to back down now.

His green eyes darkened. “Tempting.”

My knees threatened to shake.

“There you are, Dàibhid.” Brí emerged from behind a tree, face flushed from dancing, blush pink dress hiked up. “Thomas is looking for you.”

“Today isn’t for business,” he said, never taking his eyes off me. If Brí noticed, she kept it to herself.

“I don’t think it’s about business. Something about a bet?”

Dàibhid snapped to attention. “Shit.”

“What bet?” I asked, arms falling.

“Thomas bet Liam that Liam can’t take more shots than him. I might be the moderator.”

“I’m sorry.” My shoulders shook with restrained laughter. “What?”

“They need a responsible adult to monitor them.” He said it like it was an explanation.

“So they got their king to watch in on a drinking game?”

“I’m clearly the eldest if this behavior is anything to go off. They need me.”

“Well, then you’re the eldest of us all,” Brí said.

“How dare you,” Dàibhid said.

Brí stuck her tongue out at him. He returned the gesture. I stopped paying attention as a roaring filled my ears.

The forest, the dancing, the intimate conversation, the interruption from Brí. We were truly in dangerous territory. Familiar territory, whether Dàibhid knew it or not.

“Go, be a moderator,” I said, forcing playfulness. “It’s a king’s duty to supervise drinking games.”

He laughed yet again—he was doing that a lot, wasn’t he?—gave me one lingering look that threatened to send me tumbling, and walked away, Brí trailing.

I spun toward the table to hide my face, riddled with uncontrolled panic, from view. What the fuck had I been doing? He could have realized it then. How hadn’t I noticed the situation sooner?

I could have fucked everything up.

Would , if I didn’t start being more careful and stop giving him cause to put past memories together with present moments.

Because tonight was too much like the last time Dàibhid had known me as Nina.