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“But what about the ceremony?” she asked. Her voice had gained some steadiness, some strength. But her fingers still worried away at the handles of her bag.
“Ceremony?” I repeated. “Is that common among humans?”
I didn’t know humans held ceremonies when they began new employment.
“Well, yes! I assumed… I thought it would be the same for you. I thought it would happen today.”
I frowned, rubbing my hand along my chin.
“Well, tell me what sort of ceremony you were expecting. I can try to create it for you.”
I wasn’t prepared for any sort of ceremony, but I was sure I could throw something together with enough information. I hadn’t expected my new employee to request such a thing of me, but I wanted her to feel comfortable here during her contract.
Inexplicably, her cheeks darkened even further.
I wasn’t entirely sure what that flush across her cheekbones meant.
And that was…
Frustrating, to put it mildly.
“Well, there’s usually a village elder who presides over it,” she began.
Hmm. Not sure where I can get one of those on such short notice… Maybe my cook would suffice? Although Hildfree isn’t an elder…
“And I’d have a dress. I mean, I’m wearing this dress, of course. But if you had another that you wanted me to wear, I would do so.”
She dropped her bag onto the floor and then unlaced the cloak’s straps at the base of her slim throat. She slid it off, bunching it under one arm.
A muscle in my jaw ticked as I cast a quick glance down her form, taking in the dress in question.
It was a simple cotton thing. It likely had once been white but was now a greyish yellow. A pattern of threadbare lace along the curved neckline drew my helpless gaze to her breasts. The shape of the garment, pinching at the waist, led my eyes further downward to where the skirt flared over the sweet curve of her hips.
Damn that dress. It wasn’t very revealing. It wasn’t even overly tight. In fact, it was rather baggy in places, as if the dress had belonged to someone else, or perhaps it had fit once, but she’d lost weight. But the overall shape and direction of it – the arrow of lace at her cleavage, the nipped waist, the fall of the skirt – all of it seemed designed to draw a man’s eye down a woman’s body almost against his own will. It was a work of art and a thorn in the side of my usually stony willpower.
I wrenched my gaze back up to Wynthea’s face.
“There’s no specific dress code,” I said. “You can wear whatever you like.”
I didn’t understand why she thought I would have a dress ready for her.
Was I supposed to have a dress ready for her?
“Alright. I’ll wear this one, then. I always imagined I’d have my parents with me, but…”
Her voice broke off, cracking like a twig in a cold snap. She breathed in deeply through her nose, then continued.
“But I imagine it will just be the two of us. Unless you wanted to invite any family?”
She thought I would invite my family to her employment ceremony?
“My parents and my uncle have all passed away. They were my only family,” I said.
Those brilliant eyes widened.
“Oh. I’m so sorry. I understand what that’s like. My parents… I mean… I don’t have anyone either. At least, until now.”
Her gaze grew unreadable as it lingered on me, though it was heavy with some sort of meaning. Some sort of insinuation just outside my grasp.
