Page 74 of For the Strange and Surprising

We chose a linen-type material to start with, and they fit loosely with a drawstring at the waist. I love them. I think Isolde does too. She hums as she inspects her work, making her final adjustments before she motions for me to take the pants off.

“I want to make some for myself.”

“You should,” I eagerly encourage. “You’ll look amazing in them,”

“No, no. First, draw me some more designs. I haven’t put this much effort into a project in centuries.”

Isolde swirls her index finger over a stack of papers, and I grin at her excitement.

“We need a tighter blouse for these,” she comments as I hand the pants over. “I have plenty of ideas, though. How are your undergarments working?”

I snort. “They’re doing the job, but I want to try some more complicated designs next time, maybe use a little less fabric. These are like boxer briefs for women.”

I tug at them until I can show her the cut I’m looking for. She assesses my work with a critical eye before nodding.

“If you want to make them smaller, you need more accurate numbers than what you wrote down. So, let’s get those, and then you can draw while I finish sewing.”

Isolde is thorough.

She measures every part of me, from neck to ankles, inseams and outseams. Her notes are meticulous, leaving no area of my body without an assigned number. As she kneels beside me, she taps my thigh.

“What are all these colored dots?”

“It’s a tattoo. If you connect all the matching dots with ink, they make different sea creatures.”

She tips her head thoughtfully, but I don’t get a chance to ask if she knows what a tattoo is. The door swings open, and Ecaeris walks in. It’s no big deal; I’m just standing here, barely clothed, with his mother.

“It’s late, and I need to—Oh.” He stops when he notices me.

“Knock?” Isolde suggests.

“Sorry.” He turns his head, talking to the wall. “You never have anyone in here. I didn’t realize—”

“Ecaeris,” I interrupt sweetly.

He casts me a quick, cautious glance. “What?”

“Get out.”

Isolde quietly giggles as he slams the door without another word.

“How surprising,” she whispers.

I feel the same way.

Until I realize how smug she looks.

This world is her playground, and she’s taken an interest in the tension between Ecaeris and me. I don’t know that it’s a bad thing, but she sure is good at fanning the flames.

I shake my head at Isolde in exasperation. She winks at me, sinfully playful yet somehow angelic.

The Mongrel queen is a mischievous minx.

And she has an agenda.

24

Adelaide