Page 73 of The Throne Seeker (Vallorian #1)

R ose recruited Gretta to help pick a dress for the Snorri, explaining she needed something sure to be eye-catching. With a few prodding questions from Gretta, she admitted she was trying to attract a particular lord’s attention.

“Well, tell me. Who is it, lass? I grew up in Caleede, I know practically every high lord there is,” Gretta said, placing a hand on her hips. “Which one is it?”

“I believe it’s—Moretti?”

Gretta’s eyes widened. “ Felix Moretti?” she clarified, exhaling a large puff of air. “You certainly reach for the stars, don’t you?”

Rose ignored the comment. “What’s he like?”

“Well, for starters, he’s the richest and most influential man in the capital,” Gretta stated, like it was well-known gossip.

“He controls everything. Nothing goes on in the city he doesn’t know about.

If that wasn’t enough to tempt you, he’s also an incredibly handsome lad, but he’s reckless to be sure.

That man loves nothing more than a bag of money and status.

He’s yet to marry, which makes him the most eligible bachelor in Cathan.

Women come from far and wide to try to catch his eye.

But for some reason or another, he’s denied them all.

I’m afraid you’ll have to go bold with this one. ”

Rose groaned internally. For some reason, she’d pictured Moretti as an older, plain lord with low expectations. Gaining the attention of an average man was one thing, but fighting for it against a sea of women was another beast entirely.

Gretta stepped over to the closet. “Let’s see…” she mumbled, rummaging through the clothes. “Ah! Here. If you want to catch Moretti’s eye, you’ll want to wear this.”

She looked up at the dress Gretta held.

If one could even call it that.

Rose’s eyes widened in fear. “ That ? That’s what you think I should wear?” Where in Vallor did someone even find a dress like that?

“Trust me, lass. This is what you need. Go on, try it on… Best you don’t show Roman until you get there,” Gretta added in a whisper, as if he could hear.

Rose slipped into the delicate dress made of shiny, scale-like fabric.

The neckline dipped at the back to her shoulder blades, with shoulder pads that flared up and outward like small wings.

Its sweetheart neckline beautifully lined her collarbone, and the scaled fabric hugged her body before gently reaching the floor.

Two long slits reached her upper thighs, revealing her long, lean legs as she walked.

She faced the mirror, and although it exposed more skin than she preferred, she couldn’t help but admit she felt… new , like the dress gave her permission to be someone different. Someone more confident. Someone she could very well like.

“You see?” Gretta grasped her shoulders and ushered her into the sunlight.

Rose sucked in a breath as the rays hit the scales. The dress burst into a sea of glittering gold, lighting up the room.

“When you enter the light, you’ll shine like a goddess.”

She had to admit, it was eye-catching, just as she had asked. “Okay… I guess this is the dress.”

Gretta gave a satisfied smile. “You’ll be the talk of the city by the time the day is over,” she added with a wink. “Now to curl this lion’s mane of yours.” She grabbed a handful of Rose’s hair.

Even as efficient as she was, Gretta spent over an hour curling it all.

She told her she didn’t have to, but Gretta insisted “it completed the look.” Gretta helped her put on a bit of makeup, using a golden highlighter and bronzer to accentuate her cheekbones.

For her lips, she chose a light-pink shade, plumping them to look like fresh dew.

Lastly, Gretta wrapped her up in a large cloak, doing it up all the way so no one would see the dress until she was at the race.

She slipped out the front doors, expecting Roman to be saddling the horses, but instead, a fancy black carriage was waiting for her.

Roman had dressed up for the occasion, too. He wore a black cloak over his leather tunic, with a V-neck and a popped collar, and trousers that matched. His hair had been left down in large, soft waves. Though he looked dashing, she didn’t miss how his eyes still seemed a tad more sunken than usual.

“I thought this might be a welcomed change for today,” he said, sounding just fine. He offered her a hand.

“I’d say,” she agreed with a grateful smile, taking his hand as he guided her down the steps.

“Are you sure you still want to do this? Just say the word, and I’ll find another way.”

“No. I want to help… plus I just spent about two hours getting ready, so we are definitely going somewhere ,” she said in a sour voice, huffing.

His lips pulled into a crooked smile, sending her heart into an annoying flutter. “It’s hard to see your hard work when you have a cloak on.”

She winked. “That’s the point. I want it to be a surprise.”

He was about to turn but stopped mid-movement. His eyes narrowed. “You didn’t go overboard, did you?”

“You mean, did I pick out a much-too-revealing dress? Yes, I did,” she teased—well, partly.

His mouth tightened into a hard line. “Don’t make me regret asking you—I already have second thoughts.”

“Don’t worry.” She hiked up her cloak and dress to reveal a knife she had strapped to her upper thigh. “You see? I’ll be fine.”

He rolled his eyes. “Wonderful,” he droned.

She paused, studying his eyes again before finally saying, “Are you sure you’re feeling alright? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine,” Roman said, brushing her off. “Now, get into the carriage before I come to my senses and change my mind.”

The journey to Caleede was shorter than she had expected. Their carriage took the narrow path out of the mountains, reconnecting with the main road heading north. A plentiful number of other carriages and wagons joined them, all making their way to the city.

Excitement danced in her stomach. She’d never been to the capital.

Her mother had strictly forbidden it, claiming there was too much “riffraff.” Which was absurd because every other noblewoman boasted about its exquisite shopping and delicious dining.

After all, it was called the gem of Cathan for a reason.

Even with her high expectations, she was unprepared for the grand city’s glory.

It lay in a valley nestled between three mountains that shielded it from invaders.

If that wasn’t enough, an impenetrable stone wall encased the city, its borders stretching miles out of sight.

As they drew nearer, she tried to estimate its height; it must’ve been nearly fifty feet tall.

The main gate was swarming with guards and security, giving every vessel a thorough search before letting them pass.

It took near an hour just to get through it all.

Once they’d made it past the gates, a wealthy city welcomed her.

The roads were cleaner than any city she had ever seen, even as traders and farmers crowded the cobblestone streets, flocking to sell their goods thanks to the influx of visitors for the Snorri.

Though the city was old, every building looked like it’d been well taken care of for generations.

Despite the miles of roads and sandwiched buildings, a mixture of shrubs, trees, and flowers flourished everywhere they went, with thick vines climbing buildings, both new and old.

She was absolutely fascinated by the turquoise canal system that channeled the mountain runoff to the city, allowing large rowboats to easily transport goods from one side to the other.

It flowed through hundreds of tunnels and bridges throughout the city, offering the perfect solution to alleviate heavy road congestion—it was genius, really.

“Do you like it?” Roman asked, noticing her eyes glued to the window.

“It’s magnificent,” she said. The rumors didn’t do it justice. “It must cost a fortune to keep this place so clean and beautiful.”

“You can thank Moretti for that,” he uttered in distaste.

His tone didn’t go unnoticed. “What happened between you two?”

He looked out the window. “I’m the reason a large stream of his revenue was discontinued.

We found out that he may have sold a good chunk of illegal goods to our enemies during the war.

I put a stop to it and tried to get him thrown into prison for it.

Needless to say, he bribed his way out of serving his time.

He’s been rather unfond of me ever since. ”

The carriage veered left, moving westward toward the city’s outskirts.

Though it took some time to reach, she didn’t mind, soaking in every beautiful speck of the city.

She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the busy life around her, wishing she could stay and explore the libraries, shops, and gardens they passed.

Finally, the stadium came into view, and her jaw dropped.

She quickly concluded that she had severely underestimated how popular the Snorri was.

A long, crooked line of carriages crept toward the building at a glacier pace, while even more trekked on foot. Hundreds upon hundreds of people gathered, crowding the front gate.

Her throat dried. She’d never seen so many bodies in her life.

When their carriage reached the front, Roman threw on his hood and exited the carriage. She followed suit as they were forced to walk the rest of the way on foot. He kept close to Rose as they fought the crowd to the main arched entrance.

After standing in another long line, they reached the front gate.

“Two tickets,” Roman requested, sliding four gold coins to the gatekeeper.

The short, wide, rough-looking man who smelled strongly of body odor snatched the coins quickly.

“Right. Bettin’ station is down atta way, bathrooms are up atta way,” the man grumbled, gesturing to the left and right.

“Cause any trouble and you’ll be threwn out without a refund.

Bes’ be in your seat when the race starts.

” He slid their tickets to them, along with a pamphlet.