Page 51 of Woven by Gold (Beasts of the Briar #2)

51

Rosalina

“H ow long is this going to take? I’m freezing.” I cross my arms over my bare chest.

“Almost mixed,” Astrid assures, flicking her red eyes up from whatever strange potion she’s got brewing on the side table.

I shift from foot to foot, completely naked except for my underpants. Strewn fabric, pots of makeup, and glitter cover my room in Keep Oakheart. Tonight’s the big event. The five of us are going to fulfill Farron’s end of the bargain.

Tonight, we’re attending Caspian’s birthday party in the Below.

Marigold and Astrid are determined to make me fit in. Marigold has been taking some sheers to a skirt for a precariously long time. Astrid’s working on some weird potion she picked up from Flavia, Castletree’s seamstress, when she tagged along on one of Kel’s visits back to the castle. It looks like a big pot of ink, so I’m not sure what it has to do with my outfit.

They’ve already completed my makeup and hair, painting my eyes in dark shadows and my lips crimson. My hair is pinned into a loose bun, tied with silvery thread, a few curled pieces left out to frame my face.

Maybe I’d be nervous about tonight if my mind was less occupied with thoughts of Farron from earlier. Guilt wracks my thoughts; I should be making things easier for him, not harder. But a stronger emotion has taken hold.

Anger.

I want more than anything for Farron to break his curse and be free, but I can’t stand the idea of him finding his mate. The thought of him with some stranger makes me want to scream. It’s just not right. There’s something thrashing inside of me, desperate to grab him and tell him he’s mine and mine alone.

But that’s selfish.

I have to push these thoughts away and focus. We’ll need to be on guard tonight.

“How are you two spending your full moon?” I ask, trying to distract myself.

“Avoiding Farron’s little brothers,” Astrid groans, black paint splashed over her hands and hair. “Dom left a heart-shaped leaf outside my door the other day with a piece of parchment that said: I’m falling for you .”

A giggle escapes my lips. “That’s kind of cute.”

“They’re way too young for me. Besides, I heard them muttering the other day how much they love rabbit stew.” She grimaces.

“I, for one, will be partaking in all the delights of Autumn,” Marigold says in a sing-song voice. “Remember that farmer I danced with at the festival last moon? Turns out he knows how to plow more than a field.”

“Marigold!” Astrid chides.

“The poor lad has been after me all month,” Marigold continues. “He thinks I’m playing hard to get. Maybe I should thank my raccoon. She’s been making him all hot and bothered with this waiting business.”

Astrid leaps up. “It’s done! Flavia said this is the latest fashion in the Summer Realm when someone wants to look fancy without getting too warm. Apparently, the fae of Summer mix in gold and pastels, but I think black will be perfect for tonight.”

“What exactly is this?” I raise a skeptical brow.

“It’ll be easier to show you.” Astrid sits on a stool before me and puts her little pot on the side table. “Drop your hands.”

I do with a sigh, pretty used to being undressed around these two at this point. Astrid dips a paint brush into the inky goo, then slides it along my stomach in a twirling arc.

“Body paint?” I gasp. “I think I need more than that.”

“Just wait,” she says.

In the strangest sensation, the paint dries, then turns into a taut, almost silk-like material.

“I’m going to paint the bodice.” Astrid gleams. “I have the perfect design in mind.”

“Okay,” I tell her, more confident now that it feels like actual fabric. Astrid works quickly, swirling lines up and down my torso. The substance tightens to my body, giving support as she delicately covers all the important areas.

“Is it going to be strange?” I ask. “The four princes attending a celebration in the Below?

“Well, the realms aren’t technically at war,” Marigold says.

“But what about all the goblin raids? Caspian’s thorns siphoning Castletree?”

“The Below claims to have no control over the goblins,” Astrid sneers. “They insist they’re wild animals. Everyone knows that’s a lie, though. As for Caspian’s thorns, the princes don’t want to declare war again while their magic is depleted by the curse.”

“Maybe this can be a diplomatic mission,” I say hopefully. Or maybe if Caspian’s guard is lowered, I can figure out what he wants with Castletree’s magic. What’s his purpose for smothering the tree?

“There’s not going to be much diplomacy transpiring in a Below party.” Marigold breezes over with gauzy fabric.

“Have you been to one before?”

“A few in my younger years.” She gives a breathy sigh. “I was part of the staff accompanying Prince Ezryn when he descended to the Below.”

“What? Why would Ez go?”

“To see Keldarion, of course.” Marigold gestures for me to step as she slides a skirt up my legs. “He was always worried about the master spending so much time there.”

My heart quickens. They’ve never given me this much information, and I’m eager to learn anything I can about Keldarion’s past. “I didn’t know Kel spent a lot of time there.”

“His father was still High Prince,” Astrid says, face pinched in concentration as she works the paint brush across my chest. “Keldarion and the Prince of Thorns were searching for a great weapon said to be lost there.”

“Oh dear.” Marigold looks at me with a displeased expression. “Now this won’t do at all.”

I look down at the beautiful skirt. Marigold cut the chiffon in thin ribbons that flow down my legs. The material is dark black near my hips, fading to a transparent gray by my ankles.

“This is lovely,” I tell her, “but a little revealing.”

She tsks and pushes the material aside to uncover my bright pink polka dot panties.

I flush. “I guess they don’t exactly match.”

“Take those off.” Marigold winks. “I have just the thing.”

I shimmy out of my underpants, and Astrid gives an annoyed grimace at the interruption of her work.

Marigold waltzes over with the daintiest little black lace undies in her hand. “I have a feeling my girl is going to get lucky tonight.”

“I don’t know about that.” A month ago, I was kicked out of both Kel and Dayton’s rooms. Ez continues his routine of ignoring me as much as he can. And Farron…

My heart stutters. If his beast hadn’t emerged, something magical could have happened between us. But now, he’ll never trust himself around me.

“You might be too oblivious, but those men look at you like a flute of faerie wine in a sea of swill.” Marigold pats my cheek then sets the black panties on the bed.

“Done!” Astrid says.

I turn to the full-length mirror. Astrid has painted the most amazing designs using swirling lines. No, not lines. Thorns crawl up my torso, giving the illusion that my chest is covered in briars. The paint has stitched into tight black fabric, holding me in. But between the lines, my skin is bare.

It pairs perfectly with the gauzy skirt, which cinches high on my waist. When I move, it exposes my legs all the way to the top of my thighs. I always thought they were too big, but damn, I look sexy.

“This is…” I shake my head, telling myself I won’t cry. “This is amazing.”

“How do you want the sleeves?” Astrid asks.

I study the design in the mirror. Right now, the bodice curves up along the top of my chest, my shoulders and arms bare. My moonstone rose necklace, fixed by Farron, hangs between my cleavage.

Gently, I touch my exposed left wrist. A fresh start. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to express to Ezryn the gift he gave me. “This is perfect.”

They both smile, and Marigold places shoes at my feet, deep purple heels. I’ve been practicing in them the last few days, so I won’t embarrass myself down there.

“Wait, how do I take this off?” I gesture to the top.

“I like your thinking, girlie.” Marigold’s chest heaves with her laughter.

“It’s actually very malleable,” Astrid says. “Try it.”

I gently caress the soft fabric across my chest. It sways, brushing aside to reveal my breast. I release my hand and it snaps back.

“If you want it off for good, gather it and pull.”

“Alright.” I turn one last time to look in the mirror. I barely recognize myself.

“You could be mistaken for the Princess of Thorns,” Marigold coos.

“Don’t say things like that,” Astrid hisses. “And don’t let the master hear you.”

But it gives me an idea. I rush over to my bag with all my most precious treasures and carefully pull out the thorn crown Caspian gifted me at the Winter Solstice Ball. I place it on my head. “Did someone say Princess of Thorns?”

A knock sounds on my door, and we all jolt.

“Rosalina?” It’s Ezryn. “Are you almost ready? We’re set to depart.”

“One moment,” I call.

“Here, wear this.” Marigold fastens a heavy cloak around my shoulders, pulling the hood over my hair.

“Thanks.” I quickly grab my bag. “It’s probably cold out there.”

“That,” Marigold says, “and if the princes see you dressed in such a fashion, they’re not going to let you out of this keep.”

W e make our way to the ruined library. Caspian had suggested a place where no one would see our thorn-ridden passage, and Farron agreed this would be the best spot. The rest of the Autumn royals think we’re returning to Castletree for the full moon, so nobody will be looking for us.

Moonlight illuminates the broken pillars, and ash wafts in the breeze. Tension shivers through the group as Farron pulls the thorn seed from his pocket, then kneels, digging a hole in the ash.

Keldarion fixes me with a stern glare. “You do not leave our side. One of us must always be with you. Do you understand, Rosalina?”

I nod, wringing my hands together. Nerves flutter in my stomach. I have no idea what to expect from this party.

The Winter Prince then settles his gaze on the others. “She is not to be alone.”

Ezryn and Dayton both nod.

Farron stands, stepping back from the seed he’d buried. “Here goes nothing.”

A sharp crackle of magic shudders through me. Giant thorn vines burst forth from the earth, looking so much like the ones that ensnare Castletree, a painful longing for home pangs in my chest.

The thorns twine around each other to form an arch. As soon as they connect, a ripple of enchantment flows down to the ground, resembling a wavering mirror.

“The way to the Below is open.” Ezryn says.

I step forward, placing a palm on the thorns. “This passage goes both ways.”

“Thank fuck for that,” Dayton says. “I don’t want to spend a moment longer in that place than we have to.”

My fingers dig into the plant. I know it must open on both sides so we can return home, but something doesn’t sit right with me.

“Thank you,” Farron says softly. “Thank you all for doing this with me.”

Dayton places a hand on his shoulder, and Ez follows his lead. Kel steps forward next and says, “We will bear this burden with you.”

“We stand with you, Farron,” I say.

He gives a rueful smirk. “Then let’s go wish that bastard a happy birthday.”

With that, he steps through the portal, followed by Dayton and Ez, until it’s just Keldarion and me standing beneath the moonlight.

His face is a firm line, but I see the pain flashing in his eyes. What must it be like for him to attend a celebration for someone who betrayed him?

“And I’m with you,” I say, offering my hand. Even if I’m still mad at him, I know he needs my support tonight.

“Thank you, Rose,” he says, taking my hand. Together, we step through the portal.

A cold breeze whips through me, and a chill flickers through my legs.

Then I realize something.

I totally forgot to put on my panties.