Page 20 of Shardless
“Now, Taly—"
“No.”
Seeing that she wasn’t going to win, Sarinaheld up her hands in surrender. “Well then, it seems my work here is done,” she declared. Gesturing towards the bed, she added, “I’ve already laid out a dress for you. Skye, I need to get myself ready. Would you mind helping her with the laces?”
“My normal clothes are fine,” Taly said through clenched teeth, her fingers twisting in the fabric of her shift.
Sarina turned and gave her a motherly stare. “Oh, of course, dear. But, I’m afraid I already sent them to the laundry. They were quite damp. You’re lucky you didn’t catch a cold.”
Taly wasn’t buying the act. “I’m sure there’s something else in my closet that I wouldn’t find quite so… offensive.”
Smiling evasively, Sarina replied, “Oh, I’m afraid I sent your old clothes to the laundry too. I was dusting in here today, and I noticed that everything needed to be laundered. Everything except that lovely lavender dress you never got a chance to wear.” Not waiting for a reply, Sarina turned and swept out of the room with a swish of her skirts, confident in her victory.
“I hate it when she does that.” Taly looked crestfallen as she considered the offending garment draped across the foot of her bed.
“You left me all alone with her and her scheming when you left. It serves you right,” Skye teased gently, coming to stand behind her.
Taly looked at him over her shoulder, her eyes narrowed. “Yeah, but you’re a guy. She hasn’t tried to make you wear a dress.”
“Yet,” Skye snorted. “She was getting close though. She hasn’t had anyone to dress up in a long time. In fact, you probably saved me a lifetimeof embarrassment today. Between you and me, I don’t think I have the figure to pull off a corset.”
Taly sighed dramatically and approached the bed, running a finger across the jeweled beading that peppered the structured bodice. To be fair, the dress was very pretty—at least Skye thought so. It was just far too elaborate and “poofy,” as Taly used to say, for her liking. She had always hated the voluminous ballgowns that seemed so popular among the fey nobility.
Carefully picking up the dress, Taly held it up to her body for appraisal. She almost looked scared of the pale lavender mass of satin and lace. “Might as well get this over with.”
“Should I hum a funeral dirge or something? You know, to set the mood?”
“Shut up!” came the curt reply along with a string of muttered cursing as she disappeared behind the dressing screen.
Deciding it was in his best interest to let her fight this battle on her own, Skye plopped himself down on the bed. A small, brown package bounced and landed beside him.
This must be Taly’s.
Curious, he reached for it.
“Don’t touch that.”
Skye jumped, startled. Looking at the screen, he didn’t see any indication that she had been watching him. “What is it?” he asked.
“It’s none of your business,” she snapped back in between muffled sighs and grunts. “Damn it. Why is women’s clothing so complicated? It makes no sense.”
“Taly, what have you gotten yourself into?” he asked, now staring at the package suspiciously.
“It’s nothing,” she said, stepping around thescreen. “Just a little something I wanted to try out.”
Skye could tell she was hedging. Making a mental note to revisit this issue later, he decided to drop the subject for now. Their relaxed, casual banter almost made it seem like the events of the past year had never happened, and he was loath to break whatever spell had managed to revive the easy familiarity.
He looked up as he heard her bare feet padding across the expanse of the room and felt his breath catch in his throat. The pastel fabric perfectly complemented Taly’s fair skin, and the bodice tapered elegantly into the folds of the skirt, revealing a narrow, feminine waist. Skye was suddenly having a hard time remembering if she used to fill out her other dresses quite so well.
“You know, for the fuss you put up, the dress isn’t half bad,” he said, feeling slightly awkward. He took a deep breath as he moved around to tighten the laces on the back of the bodice.
Taly stood up a little straighter as he pulled the laces taut, absentmindedly fiddling with the teardrop pendant around her neck. It was a plain little piece—polished, pink quartz and no bigger than a thumbnail—and she still wore the delicate silver chain he had given to her years ago as a birthday present. As she twirled her wrist, Skye caught sight of a crescent-shaped scar at the base of her palm. Reaching out, he stilled her hands, rubbing a thumb across the blemished flesh.
It was a magical burn—evidence that his worst fears were true. He’d actually hurt her that day in the training yard. Except for their disastrous confrontation in Ryme a few weeks after she’d left, that incident marked the last timehe’d seen her.
“Was this… did I do this?” Skye whispered, staring at the little scar intently. In the aftermath of her departure, he had never been able to figure out just what had happened. They had been sparring, and when he began to discharge the dagger in her hand—just like he’d done countless times before—she had dropped to the ground, screaming in pain. He had rushed to help her, but she wouldn’t let him. Instead, she had run inside and locked herself in her bedroom. Nobody knew she was gone until the next morning.
Taly chewed at her lip. “It’s not your fault,” she finally replied, equally quiet. “That’s just the price I paid for trying to use an enchanted weapon in a fight against a shadow mage. Really, I’m the one to blame.” She attempted a laugh, but it died in her throat.
