“This one?” He pulled down my red and black gown and hung it from the dresser door, stepping back to admire it.
My face flushed. It was one thing to show off my projects to my sister; it was another to have the tsar examine my craftsmanship. He always dressed in impeccably tailored suits, every button and stitch perfect. My gowns, made from old scraps, seemed nothing in comparison.
“It’s nothing special. Just an old acolyte dress and nightgown I repurposed. Nothing impressive?—”
“This is remarkable, Estrella.” Roman spoke without looking away from it. He tugged the red cotton, inspected the stitch line, then fingered the black lace layered underneath. “You made this out of an old gown? And without a machine, I assume? You can’t tell.”
He stepped closer, his gaze scanning the bodice and sleeves. He held up the cuff. “The use of lace as a design over the hand is impressive.”
With a smooth motion, he flipped the dress, examining the corset back and the bustle. His curious fingers traced each eyelet with intense focus. “Every single eyelet is evenly spaced, and the ruffle to cover thelacing? Genius.”
He turned to me, his eyes sparkling with excitement that warmed my chest. “You have real talent, doll. Why don’t you sell these? We could set you up with a workspace. I’d love to see what you could do with the proper supplies.”
I swallowed hard. No one had ever shown such an interest in my work. It had always been a distraction from my lessons, nothing more. His words filled a part of my soul I hadn’t realized was empty with pride, hope, or something akin to it. I envisioned a little shop of my own, with my own money, free from the obligation to please others. I could be independent.
The idea was absurd. I didn’t know how money worked or how to run a business. The acolyte academies crippled us, turning us into perfect slaves and preventing us from being anything else. Besides, I’d need his funds to buy supplies, and freedom bought wasn’t true freedom.
“I couldn’t ask you for that. I don’t know anything about running a business,” I murmured, my voice softer than I intended. I hoped he wouldn’t detect the sadness.
Roman’s lips curled down, and he hummed thoughtfully. He glanced back at my gown, tilting his head so his onyx curls brushed his shoulder. He looked angelic in that moment, his beauty making me stare.
He turned to me with a wide grin. “A deal, then.”
I blinked. “A deal?”
He flopped into his chair beside me. “Indeed. I’m solidifying my position with the Houses. My age is a concern, especially with the more traditional Houses. Having an acolyte would show my commitment to our ways. Attend my events, pretend to be the devoted acolyte on my arm, and I’ll ensure you have whatever you need to start a business.”
“Why not just force me to?” I asked warily.
“I wouldn’t do that. The only way this happens is if you want it to. Your choice, doll.”
He grinned, his boyish enthusiasm exacerbated by his round face and dimples. It made him seem… cute. Not otherworldly, just a handsome young man with a smile that made my heart skip. Everything about that expression tempted me to leap in headfirst, like jumping into that freezing river. I just wondered if the aftermath would be as painful.
“Then it’s a deal.”
Chapter 13
ESTRELLA
The bandages were finally able to come off. Isabella helped me unpeel them one by one, revealing the ragged, mostly healed skin beneath. I was astonished at how quickly the wounds had healed. Whatever Roman had been applying was nothing short of miraculous.
Yet the pain remained. Any twist or tug in the wrong direction sent fire racing through my flesh, leaving my movements stiff and awkward. Still, it was a relief to bathe and dress myself. A hot bath had worked wonders. I felt like a new woman.
Roman had promised to build furniture for my new office today. Asking him for anything, given all he had done for me, made my skin crawl, but at least I knew how I could repay him. A simple agreement, rather than indentured servitude to a man I couldn’t logistically live without, forced to keep him happy to survive. It felt like a step toward more equal footing with my new warden.
I brushed through my hair as best I could despite the difficulty of lifting my arms, then dressed in a thick house robe of mazarine blue. The soft fabric left a trail of teeth-clenching tingles down my back. Roman met me at the foot of the stairs and led me out of the castle.
We took the same servant door through which I had escaped, thefamiliar frame casting a shadow over my soul. I had been so hopeful then, believing that if I ran fast enough, I could outrun all my problems. If only life were that simple.
It was raining—early spring rain that felt like icy insects crawling down the back of my gown, making me shiver. I had never been in the rain this long, and it was unpleasant. Roman lifted his wing to shield me from the downpour.
“Thank you.”
“Can’t have my doll getting wet.” He winked. My cheeks burned.
We followed a narrow path away from the front gardens, marked by crushed stone mostly covered with moss that squelched under my feet. Budding bushes lined our sides, and I scanned their leafy exteriors for early-blooming flowers. Rolling hills fell away on either side, and in the distance, I could just make out the dull gray slate of the lake visible from my room.
A low-lying cabin made of roughly polished logs stood only a few hundred yards from the castle. It nestled among bushy trees, the first of their trailing white blossoms dangling from branches, bathing the entrance in a sweet, honey-like aroma muddled by the earthy scent of rain. Roman folded his wings as we approached the sheltered front and pushed open the wooden door, which swung easily on well-oiled hinges.
