Talac nodded, showing no interest whatsoever in whom Brandth had chosen, his expressionless mask once more in place. Captain of the Guard, under orders, doing his duty. Brandth could only pray he was there tomorrow to witness his friend’s reaction when Alia and Perri joined them.
The journey to Pallene promised to be a very interesting one. Perri might be determined not to share with Brandth the real reason why she and Alia desired to travel there, but he wished the Beast good luck in trying to keep secrets from Talac when he sensed a mystery right under his nose.
Yes, the trip to the Golden Palace was going to be very interesting indeed.
* * *
Hell. Pure hell. There was no other word to describe this never ending nightmare of a journey. And they hadn’t even been on the road for a full day of travelling yet. Brandth grit his teeth as the carriage lurched right, left, and then to be contrary, left again. Even with his leg resting up on a plump cushion and stabilised in his newly re-worked boot with metal spokes up the sides and padded cushioning within, little fingers of pain shot through Brandth with every turn of the wheels.
“This is unbearable.”
“Keep still.”
“How much longer?”
“Do you have something more important you could be doing?”
“I could be napping. They say sleep is nature’s best healing agent after all.”
“If you sleep this late in the day, you’ll never sleep tonight.”
Brandth stared down at Perri kneeling on the floor of the carriage, the scent of her perfume teasing his nostrils. Her waspish tones at least were reassuringly back to normal. Though he resented that she didn’t appear to be more affected by the jolts and lurches of the carriage. Instead, she seemed to have a natural ability to sway in time with the dratted vehicle. Such an expert at it that she was able to sew unbelievably straight seams in the shimmering blue material currently draped over Brandth’s frame.
“If anyone hears about this…”
“Back to tired old threats again? Honestly. Who would I tell? And who would believe that Lord Brandth De’Luca masqueraded as a dressmaker’s dummy in his spare time?”
“Ouch.”
“If you sat still, I wouldn’t prick you.”
When Perri had joined him in the carriage soon after the sun broke the horizon, Brandth had been beyond pleased. His mysterious wraith still insisting upon wearing that ridiculous scarf pinned over her face. He’d imagined he would have hours, days even, to wear away her stubbornness and uncover all her secrets. Why the scarf? What did she and Alia hope to achieve at court? Was it illegal? Did they need help?
Yet, no sooner had Perri settled across from him before pile after pile of cloth and sewing implements were handed in, almost leaving no room for Perri to sit.
She’d spent the first hour of the journey rearranging the piles to her satisfaction and thoroughly ignoring every conversational gambit Brandth attempted. Finally settling upon a sapphire blue fabric for her first project. Then the cutting began. Followed soon after by the sewing. All the time Brandth peppering her with questions which Perri distractedly ducked and weaved, her attention clearly on nothing but creating suitable Palace attire for Alia.
How Brandth got roped into helping he wasn’t too sure. He blamed sheer boredom. And the stupid idea that if he participated in the project, Perri might be grateful enough to hold an actual conversation with him. But other than telling him to sit up straight occasionally, or raise an arm higher, she said very little. Their arrangement feeling distinctly one sided, as Brandth had yet to determine what he got out of it.
They didn’t stop for lunch, Perri handing over a cold cheese pie and sharing a flask of water with him. Though his new crutches, two of them, and both padded under the arms, came in very useful when Brandth had to manoeuvre himself out of the carriage for the comfort stops granted them mid-morning and mid-afternoon.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
“Pardon?”
“I’m no expert on women’s fashion, but these clothes you’re making, they appear to be quite… different than what I have seen the ladies at Court wear.”
“Exactly. Can you imagine my sister in pastels, flounces, and sporting dainty accessories? Her height and lack of… airs, will cause a stir as it is, we might as well lean into her uniqueness rather than try to hide it or fight against it.”
“Smart. But the incorrigible gossips are going to have a field day. And I doubt they’ll be kind.”
“Kind? Hah, do you think we care about words?” There was something in her tone, a tinge of… anger? Hurt?
“Words can fly straighter and truer than any arrow when launched with malice and intent.” Brandth reminded.
“Agreed, but words cannot cut flesh and they help us gauge our enemies goals. Even careless words provide a window into a person’s true nature.” Perri futilely searched for the scissors in her sewing basket.
“But people lie all the time.”
