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“They all fit as well as this,” I admitted.
“Then we will take them all.”
“All?!” I cried. I’d thought he might do this, but it still sent me reeling. There had to be eight dresses back in that booth, plus several pairs of trousers and tunics!
Sigwulf ignored my cry, turning back to Frilda.
“Gloves, too, Frilda. An extra pair of shoes in whichever style and size she chooses, as well.”
I stared at him as he spoke, quivering from top to bottom. There was something so decidedly, alarmingly powerful about the way he made requests. The kind of power born to a strong, naturally clever man and sharpened by the infinite resources at his disposal. It was as if he could bend the very world to his will by a glance of his golden gaze and a firmly uttered command.
I liked it far too much to admit.
My heart thrummed, my cheeks flushing as my attraction towards him grew to staggering proportions. I loved the controlled confidence that he exuded. Loved how, despite not being full Orcborne, he fit in here so easily simply because he didn’t care a whit if people thought he didn’t. A man like that could make his way anywhere in this world and find his place. Could do anything. Be anything.
I watched as he easily manoeuvred his bulk through the booth, leaning over samples of clothing on tables and fingering various fabrics with a sternly critical frown on his face. Whatever Sigwulf did, he did with precise care and an utter command of both his own faculties and everything else around him. Even something as mundane as choosing a uniform for his employee apparently had to adhere to his mighty standards.
By the time we were finished, the pile of items to be purchased was a small mountain.
I eyed that pile half with adoration for my beautiful new clothing, half with horror at how much money was about to be spent. Even knowing Sigwulf could afford it, it terrified me. Too many years of poverty had stripped the peace out of purchasing… Well… Anything.
“It’s too much,” I whispered. “You have to let me buy at least one thing.”
Sigwulf glanced down at me sideways. Then, he snagged the smallest, most inexpensive item from the pile.
“Fine. I will deduct the cost of these gloves from your salary if it will please you.”
“At least let me buy the expensive ones!” I gasped. Of course, only one pair of gloves hadn’t satisfied Sigwulf, so he’d selected three pairs for me. It must be the Dragon Caste side of him wanting to hoard, I thought to myself as I looked at the pairs of gloves. He’d chosen a simple cotton pair which was cheapest (the pair he now said I could pay for), as well as a sturdier brown leather pair, and a beautiful pair made of silver silk with little pearl buttons.
“I have made up my mind, Wynthea. You will not sway me in this matter,” he said firmly, his eyes turning hard as metal.
“Fine,” I said. “Then I’ll just work extra hours for you to make up for all this. And don’t try to stop me, either! I’ll sneak into the library to work while you’re sleeping!”
Sigwulf stared down at me.
And then?
He smiled. Really, truly smiled. Not the subtly crooked tug of his lips he usually exhibited.
His teeth were large, straight, and white between his curving tusks. His cheeks dimpled in an astoundingly adorable fashion, and his eyes crinkled.
“I fear you are just as stubborn as me, so I accept your terms,” he said warmly.
Dumbfounded by the beauty of his smile, I nodded wordlessly.
Blinking, feeling stunned, I turned my head away from him, trying to regain some semblance of sanity.
As I looked away, a dress caught my attention.
While Sigwulf finished his transaction with Frilda, I wandered over to it.
My eyes got hot. My throat thickened as I skimmed my fingers gently down the front of the emerald-green dress.
It was an entirely different cut and style, of course. And it was velvet rather than silk. But it reminded me so much of my mother’s green wedding gown. The one she’d saved for me to wear at my own wedding.
The one I’d sold.
“Try it on.”
