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Aron leaves us behind immediately.
“I wish to speak with their priests and scribes, to see if they’ve received any prophecies,” he tells Yule
Well, he must feel safe, I think sourly. Never mind that he’s arrogance and could be putting all of us in danger. I’ll keep those thoughts to myself for now, though, especially since Yule
“My ladies,” she says, sinking to the floor in a deep bow and Aron’s gesture. “I am told you are Aron’s property. This will be your home while you honor Novoro with your presence.”
I glance behind us as the doors close, leaving Yule
“Thank you,” Yule
“Of course, the woman says, bowing her head again. “I am Lady Garline, Lord Secuban’s wife and mistress of Novoro. What we have is yours. We will be honored to share with the gods and hope they will share with us in return.”
“I’m sure that is for Aron to decide,” Yule
“You must be tired,” Lady Garline says. “And dirty. Let me have my women draw hot baths for you both and get you fresh clothes.”
“Oh,” I blurt out. “Our clothes are with the woales—”
“No, honored guest,” Lady Garline continues, putting up her hands. “In Novoro, we share everything with our guests and hope they will honor us in the same fashion. You will wear my finest gowns this night. I imagine they are much warmer than anything you have.” And she beams at us, as if the thought of two strangers in her clothes is all she’s ever wanted. “You will want to be fresh and pretty for my lord Aron and the feast, will you not? To show him honor?”
Boy, they sure like tossing around the “honor” word. Maybe these people have a cleanliness thing. Yule
“We’ll be here,” I joke. It could be worse.
The moment they leave, Yule
I'm surprised at her question, but I didn't miss the way the men leered at us as we came in. There's real fear on her pretty face, and coming from someone who's a concubine, I can't imagine that she would get skittish over nothing. "Of course not," I tell her. "You're the anchor of the Lord of Storms as far as they know. You can do what you want."
She shakes her head, her grip on my hands tightening. "They will want me at his side. Or he might give up the lie and tell everyone I am a useless concubine." Her eyes brim with tears. "I am afraid. I do not have the protection of the god's claim on my body like I did before. Please, Faith."
My old friend guilt returns, and I give her hand a reassuring squeeze. "As far as they know, I'm the concubine. If they want Aron to have company, I'll go volunteer to sit at his side and look pretty." I don't point out that I'm secretly glad, because I don't like the thought of Yule
Her expression brightens, and one perfect tear slips down her perfect cheek. "Do you truly think so?"
"I do. Don't stress, okay? Let's just enjoy a bath and try not to worry too much."
Unfortunately for me, I think about Tadekha's citadel, and how that turned out. I had a bath there after I arrived and then shit went to hell.
I think of how I fondled Aron.
And I think about my dream of Aron earlier today.
Man, that fortune teller was straight up wrong when she said the King of Pentacles was go
It's so fucking nice to get clean I almost forget to be worried. Like in Katharn, there's an old system of pipes ru
The hot water helps, though, as does the cleansing wash they put in my hair. When they comb it out for me, it feels clean for the first time in weeks, and I don't even mind that they smooth scented lotion into my skin and rub a gentle, textured stone over my legs that makes the hair disappear as if sanded away. The bath at Novoro gets an A plus as far as I'm concerned.
It gets a little weird when Lady Gerline returns with clothes for us, though.
"Yours are being washed and tended to," she explains with bow after scraping bow. "It is custom for honored guests of Novoro to share, however, and I have brought two of my favorite feast gowns. It would bring great honor to our hall if you would wear them."
Her smile is guileless and sweet, and she looks as if she'd love nothing more than for us to wear her clothes. Weird people. I let her and her servants help me dress, and they help Yule
The neckline is open to my waist, though.
So's the slit in the skirt.
I clear my throat gently, a silent question on my lips as I play with the (one, small) tie at the waist that holds it together. "Are we missing a piece?"
"Feast wear is very formal," Lady Gerline says, with a downright devastated look on her face. "Do you not like the dress?"
"It's very nice," I reassure her, and I'm relieved when her expression turns into a smile again. Jesus, you'd think I'd kicked a kitten the way she looked so upset. Someone comes forward with a thick, wide belt, and I relax. Obviously we're not done dressing. Thank goodness.
I lift my arms and remain still as servants cinch my waist in the ornately tooled black leather belt, and my fingers brush over Aron's symbol. They didn't know he was coming, so all the axes etched into this leather means they truly do worship him. It's a good sign. With the belt on, my dress doesn't gape open nearly as far, but the slightest breeze will expose everything in a completely scandalous matter. I tug and fuss at the fur hems, but stop when I see that another woman sweeps down the hall in a gown just like mine. All right, then. When in Rome and all that.
"Let me fix your hair for you," a servant says, and I'm ushered to a padded stool in front of a copper mirror. "Does your lord prefer your hair up or down?"
It's on the tip of my tongue to tell her that he doesn't get a say, but then I remember I'm supposed to be the concubine. "Let's go with up."
"And you, my lady anchor?" Lady Gerline asks Yule
"I'll be staying in my chambers this night," she says in an imperious voice, making it sound as if she's the lady of the castle and not Gerline. "You can have my food sent up here."
Lady Gerline looks shocked. "Oh…but my Lord of Storms must have a companion for the feast. It is tradition." She wrings her hands, distressed.
"The concubine can go," Yule
"That's right," I say brightly before Lady Gerline can protest. "Aron's asked for me tonight." And I give her an exaggerated wink.
A look of relief crosses her face. "Very good."
Yule
I avert my eyes and do my best not to stare. When in Rome, I remind myself. When in Rome. I adjust the deep vee of my gown, and I'm glad it covers as much as it does. Sure, one wrong move and I'm going to be tits out, but the girls are covered at least. The slit in the dress is a little worrisome—instead of going up one leg, it goes straight up the middle, following the part of my thighs, and goes practically to my waist. It's like they gave me an overcoat and forgot to give me the garment that goes underneath.
Other than the breezy clothes, so far these people have been nice and welcoming. Just because I had a bad experience at Tadekha's citadel doesn't mean this place is going to turn into an orgy. Maybe the men like eye candy while they eat.