CHAPTER EIGHT
BETH
To my astonishment, Bleddyn’s ears turned red. It was frigging adorable. So my companion had a thing for saving people. Good to know. But who was Elin?
My eyebrows bunched together, but the moment I became aware of it, I made an effort to smooth my features. Yet the pressure in my chest remained. It took me a second to recognize the emotion. Was I jealous of a girl’s name mentioned in passing? Seriously?
“Who’s Elin?”
I wanted to slap my hand over my mouth, forcing the words back inside. Both men turned and stared at me. The old man said, “Elin is my daughter. She works in the royal household.”
Bleddyn spoke over him, grimacing as if he wished Master Griff hadn’t told me. “She came to me because Griff was very sick. I helped as I could.”
I nodded as if that answered my question, but my mind was stuck on “royal household.” Was that the reason Bleddyn commanded so much respect in this society? Was he also part of the royal household?
Did he know who the mysterious “HRH” was who’d ordered human kids to be abducted and murdered in this realm? Amber and I had stumbled on that information by accident, and it had kicked off the events that found me in Faerie by myself.
My head hurt from the rollercoaster of emotions, pushing me this way and then another. My heart was convinced he was a trustworthy ally, but this new piece of information threw me for a loop. Why hadn’t he told me he wasn’t just a simple traveler?
Bleddyn chatted with the old man, unaware of my inner turmoil. He owed me no explanations. I hadn’t asked, and he hadn’t volunteered. All I knew for sure was that he’d saved Master Griff the same way he’d saved me several times now.
“What do you think?” Bleddyn had moved to examine the wares spread on the old man’s cart. He held up the ugliest dress I’d ever seen. The bodice and skirt were shapeless, and the fabric scratchy and rough. It was also a hideous brown color, and I’d rather die than be seen in it.
He didn’t need words from me, it seemed. My horrified expression said enough. Holding up another garment, he asked, “What about this one?”
It looked even worse. Mustard-yellow and boxy, it would drown me. My sewing skills were non-existent, so there was no chance I’d be able to fit it to my body. I shook my head vigorously.
Soon, Bleddyn ran out of dresses to show me. There was nothing I’d wear in public. Nothing. His face twitched, clearly at the end of his patience.
“You must wear something different, Beth. Your garments… You draw attention wherever you go.”
This was the second time he’d mentioned my clothes were inappropriate. Granted, people had stared, but were my jeans and top really that bad? “What’s wrong with my clothes?”
Master Griff and Bleddyn exchanged glances. The old man turned away, grinning and lifting his hands in a gesture of, “I’m out. You deal with it.”
Bleddyn sighed, then placed a hand on my shoulder. With forced patience, he said, “Your trousers mold your legs so that anybody can see your… your…”
He waved vaguely in the direction of my pelvis.
“And your tunic is so tight, any man might be tempted to place his hands on your cleavage.”
I wasn’t sure whether I should be pissed, or find the blush sneaking from his neck to his cheeks cute. Just to make my point, I muttered, “It’s hardly my problem you Fae males can’t control your urges.”
There was a snicker from Master Griff, but Bleddyn’s expression veered toward thunderous again. To show good willing, I glanced at the women in the crowd. Most of them wore similar dresses as the ones Master Griff sold. They hung off their thin frames like potato sacks.
Confused, I turned back to my protector. “Why are those women so skinny? Is that a Fae thing?”
Bleddyn’s anger bled from his face and was replaced by a look of deep sorrow. “This is something else you must learn. That stew you found so appetizing last night? It was a mirage, created by the innkeeper’s magic. It looked nourishing and tasted wonderful, but it did not provide you with sustenance.”
I stared at him, my nose scrunching up as I considered his words. “Hang on. If there are no nutrients in your food, how are you not all dead?”
Master Griff cut in. “How do you not see the truth around you? Bleddyn, who is this girl?”
Bleddyn stepped in front of me, cutting off Griff’s suspicious gaze. “She grew up in the human world. I suspect she has forgotten her heritage, but I will work with her so she will fit in.”
Stunned by Bleddyn’s quick reaction, I stared at his back. Maybe there was prejudice toward half-humans? It was common in my world among certain unenlightened parts of society, but here? And what truth was I supposed to see?
Before I could ask, Bleddyn urged me on. “Please. Pick something. I will not rest easy until you blend in.”
I stepped up to the cart, pushing the stupid dresses aside. To the left were several pants, made of the same material, but wider than my stretch jeans. “What about these? I could pull them tight in the waist and roll them up so they’ll fit better.”
Bleddyn’s eyebrows rose in surprise as if hadn’t considered that solution. “Yes, it might work. It would give you the freedom to run and fight while hiding your form.”
He pulled out some puke-colored tunics that would reach my mid-thighs. “Here, slip these over your shirt. And add this cap.”
I did as I was told. A belt kept the pants in position, and the tunic smelled of cow, but overall, the garments did their job. The cap fit perfectly over my pixie cut.
Bleddyn looked me up and down. “I would not recognize you. It is perfect.”
He dropped several silver-colored coins into Griff’s hand. The old man thanked him profusely and gave me a saucy wink as I trailed after Bleddyn.
The Fae made sure I walked close, but didn’t ask me to hold his arm. It was probably no longer necessary because I looked like a young boy rather than a grown woman, but I missed the warmth from his body against my side.