“Do you have any cloaks?” he asks the dressmaker, scanning her wares. “My sister had a bit of an accident, fell into a holly bush and ripped hers up.” He indicates my battered traveling cloak, shaking his head like he doesn’t know whether to scold or laugh at me.
“Of course,” the woman says, pulling some from a stack and laying them out for us. Leonidas selects one in a dark green wool, barely looking at it.
“And a dress?” He glances at me. “You said you needed a new one, didn’t you?”
“Erm, yes,” I say, focusing on sounding natural. “Nothing fancy. Just something warm now that the weather’s turned.”
“It has gotten cold, hasn’t it?” the woman hums as she pulls out options for us. “Are you traveling far?”
“Gullert,” I answer, the location of Will’s new home the first thing coming to my head. “Near the coast.”
I’m painfully aware that I can’t let this chance slip through my fingers. I’ve got to find a way to signal to this woman that something’s off here—that I need her help. But with Leonidas by my side, sending the signal will be tricky.
He looks extremely bored. Maybe my recent silence has worked, convincing him that I’m cowed and compliant.
“Oh yes, well you’ll need something warm up there,” the woman says. “But you’ll pass through some fine towns on your way. Perhaps you’d like a dress for an evening out?” Her saleswoman’s eyes glint at me as she tries her luck. “I have some lovely gowns, you know.”
“No, thank you,” I say, though I inject a note of longing into my voice, desperately hoping she will keep pushing.
“Are you sure? A pretty girl like you deserves pretty things. Nothing for a special occasion?”
“She’s fine,” Leonidas says, but the woman ignores him and keeps her eyes on me. She obviously still hopes she can get to his purse through the woman in his life. Leon indicates with a sharp look that he wants me to shut her down, and I will—in my own way.
“Really,” I say, “I don’t need any fancy ones, I already have my dress for Landing’s Day next month.”
The woman’s already packing up our new purchases, and I see her pause, a confused expression on her face. Because of course Landing’s Day isn’t anywhere near this time of year—the day we celebrate Ethira breaking free from Mariste’s ocean prison, to be welcomed by his followers on the shore, is in the spring.
But I assumed a fae who doesn’t worship Ethira wouldn’t know that, and from the prince’s bored expression, I guessed right.
I see the woman take a second look at us, wondering about my mistake and him not correcting me. I widen my eyes just a fraction at her. It seems she’s noticed something’s wrong, but did she pick up on the subtle hint in my choice of holiday? I chose the festival about escape from captivity on purpose. Her frown deepens, and I keep my mouth moving, hoping to distract Leonidas from her confusion.
“Thank you for the cloak and dress though,” I say. “They’re perfect.”
“That’ll be six florins,” she says to Leonidas, who takes perhaps a fraction longer than normal to pick the right amount out of the coin purse, and why not? He’s not familiar with Trovian money. But I see the woman’s eyes narrow, and I meet her gaze as she looks at me once more, a question in her eyes.
“Would you like to change into the dress now?” she asks me, tucking the coin away, and my heart leaps. She’s got the message, and she wants to help. “I know a lot of travelers can’t wait into get into a clean set of clothes.”
“Yes, definitely,” I jump in to answer before Leonidas can say anything. “Is there somewhere I can go for privacy?”
“There’s a ladies’ outhouse next to the cobbler’s stalls. I can show you.”
I can see him wanting to argue, but she’s already asking her neighbor to watch her stall for a moment. The prince glowers at me.
“Unnecessary,” is all he mutters under his breath.
“I can’t wear this flimsy nightdress a second longer,” I mutter back, “I’m freezing.”
Though he still doesn’t look happy, he stops arguing. As the dressmaker rounds her table to lead the way, he follows closely. I hope this woman knows what she’s doing, because I can’t imagine Leon will let me out his sight for long.
“Just over there,” the woman says, gesturing to a hut tucked up beside a grassy bank. I stare at her. I was counting on us being alone for a moment so I could tell her exactly what kind of trouble I’m in.
But she just stands there, pointing the way to me, and I know it would look strange if I hesitate any longer.
“I’ll wait here,” Leonidas says, and I wonder if only I can hear the note of warning in it.
My disappointment mounting, I carry my new dress into the hut. It’s dark and pungent, with thin dividers offering the barest semblance of privacy between the toilets. I figure even if my escape plan has failed, it’s still not a bad idea to go ahead and dress for whatever I’ll try next. We’re not leaving the trading post yet, and there might still be a chance for me to get away with my life.
As I tug off my nightclothes under my cloak and pull on the new dress, the pounding in my head hammers a little harder. Even if I didn’t have the fae breathing down my neck, I’m still in plenty of danger from the fever burning me up.
