Page 29 of Retribution

“I believe you are ready, m’lady,” Filly said, standing back to observe her handiwork. “You will outshine everyone at the feast.”

Cleodora smiled weakly. She was already exhausted after having been standing so long and the thought of spending all night at a noisy, smelly feast wasn’t exactly appealing. Events like that were usually more about being seen than actually eating and sometimes the food was more about display. She was seriously considering eating something before she went because she knew that once she arrived, Cambridge would put her on display. There had been more than one feast in the past where he had simply refused to let her eat—because if she ate, that meant she was mortal. He liked people to think that she wasn’t of this earth.

It all fed into that ethereal vision he had for her.

More than that, the dress she was wearing was cumbersome. It was elaborate and very structured, which was something Adelie liked to do with her creations. In particular, this one had boning and the bodice and when Cleodora lifted her arms and the sleeves gave the illusion of wings, there was also boning in those wings as well so they would keep their shape. It was stiff and uncomfortable, and the diadem she wore was heavy, so the truth was that she was already looking forward to the end of this feast.

But there was one other thing she was looking forward to.

A certain royal knight.

She would have been lying to herself and she not admitted she’d been thinking of him ever since she met him.

Sir Aidric.

He had been heavy on her mind yesterday and he was heavy on her mind today. He was very nearly the first thing she’d thought about that morning when she awoke, feeling the only excitement she could muster for the evening’s feast because he would be there. She was hoping they would be able to speak again, but the truth was that there would probably be no opportunity. She intended to press Cambridge about personally thanking Aidric for saving her life, and in that gesture, perhaps she’d be able to exchange a few words with him. But just a few.

Very few.

She was a bird in a gilded cage and conversation wasn’t really part of that existence.

But at least she would see him. That was something. She hoped that he would appreciate the gesture of gratitude she sent to Westminster palace shortly after the sun rose. Filly had indeed been able to purchase the kermes fabric along with a measure of dark blue wool and another measure of yellow wool. Based on the tunic that Aidric described, Cleodora and her ladies, five of them including Filly, had stayed up all night to make the tunics that Aidric had gone to Adelie’s for.

Given the chaos surrounding the shop, and the vast amounts of garments that noblewomen had commissioned so they could dress most spectacularly for the king’s feast, she was fairly certain that those tunics had not been completed. It had been her idea to do them herself, her way of showing her thanks for what he’d done. And perhaps there was a part of her that hoped he would think of her every time he put the tunic on.

Perhaps just a little.

But it had started as a complicated task. They really had no direction on how to make the tunics other than the way Aidric had described them to Cleodora. The kermes fabric was exquisite and expensive, and the blue shield had been outlined with gold thread that Cleodora had in her sewing kit. The swords had been a little trickier and Filly herself had cut out each one, ensuring they were all uniform, and then she was the one who had pinned the swords on the shields.

It had been quite a project.

By the time the sun rose, the tunics had been finished and the women were simply going over them one more time to ensure quality before wrapping them very carefully in canvas, one at a time, and then sending a messenger with the bundle over to Westminster palace, for the attention of Aidric St. John. Perhaps Cleodora’s biggest anticipation for the feast tonight was in seeing Aidric wearing a tunic she’d made herself.

Frankly, at this point, that was literally the only thing she was looking forward to as she stood in front of the mirror while and the maids went over her garment one last time. Filly was making sure that there were no threads or any other type of defect with the dress itself, and by the time she was finished, Cleodora was ready to sit down and put her feet up. Unfortunately, sitting in the dress was difficult because the fabric was a little stiff due to the silver thread, but Filly and the maids helped her over to a stool where she could put it under her skirt and sit straight down on it, thereby making sure the garment would not be wrinkled.

“There,” Filly said with satisfaction. “Let me bring you some watered wine and you can breathe for a few moments.”

Cleodora thought that sounded like a marvelous idea. “That would be lovely,” she said. “Has the archbishop sent word as to when he will want to depart for Westminster?”

Filly shook her head as she sent one of the maids for the watered wine. “Nay, my lady,” she said. “He’s not sent word at all. But I—”

There was a knock on the door, interrupting her. Quickly, she rushed to the panel and opened it to find Langford standing there. A thin man with black hair, black eyes, and pale skin, he saw Cleodora sitting on the stool in her silver dress and he bowed swiftly.

“My lady,” he said. “The archbishop wishes a word with you.”

Cleodora nodded. “Of course,” she said. “But… would it be too much trouble to ask him to come to my chamber? It’s simply that this dress is heavy and difficult to move in, and I do not wish to ruin it before we go to Westminster.”

Langford nodded. “I understand, my lady,” he said. “I will ask him to come to you. Less chance of the garment being wrinkled.”

Cleodora sighed with relief. “Thank you, Langford.”

The man dipped his head in acknowledgment before slipping away, heading back down the stairs as Filly closed the door. When she looked at Cleodora, it was with some concern.

“I wonder what he wants?” she said. “He is going to see you in an hour or two. What is so important that it cannot wait?”

Cleodora shrugged her shoulders, which were bare because of the cut of the garment and dusted with a powder made from finely ground chalk and crushed pearls. “I will soon find out,” she said. Then, she waved a hand at the maids remaining in the chamber. “Everyone will go. Except you, Filly. You will remain to open the door for the archbishop and then you will leave.”

“Aye, my lady.”