Fantastical (Fantasyland 3)
Page 36Tor pulled back on the reins, Salem stopped then turned his head to look at us and a groggy Aggie chirped a “What’s happening?”
I didn’t answer the bird. I was trying to think.
“Love, it’ll be fine,” Tor assured me.
“I need to, I don’t know, brush my hair and, um,” I lifted my hand and started pinching my cheeks, “um…” I repeated.
I didn’t know!
“Cora, look at me,” Tor commanded and I did. “It will be fine.”
“They think I’m a bitch,” I reminded him.
“No, they don’t. The people don’t know you. You’ve been here once. I will admit, you didn’t make a good impression…” Fabulous. “But you were simply haughty, a bit cold the short time you were here. They don’t think much of anything except that you aren’t around.” He paused. “Now my men…” he trailed off.
Oh boy.
“What have I done to your men?”
He looked in my eyes. “Nothing, except the fact you refuse to warm my bed. Something they haven’t missed nor do they like, considering half my soul is yours. They’re loyal to me and wish me contentment.”
Great. Freaking great. His warriors hated me because I was a cold bitch who made her man search for it elsewhere.
Brilliant.
I turned forward again and Tor called my name again.
“No,” I said, not turning back. “I’m okay. This’ll be fine. Just fine.”
I was freaking out!
“Love, look at me,” he urged.
“No,” I denied. “Let’s just get this over with.”
He paused then he sighed then he stated, “Cora, just be this you and they’ll change their minds. If you’re this woman, they won’t be able to stop themselves from falling in love with you.”
I stared straight ahead but I could see nothing, I could only feel his words wash over me.
Yes, feel them.
And oh, but they felt good.
Oh man.
I didn’t respond, couldn’t. I was trying to control my rapidly beating pulse and prevent a heart attack.
After awhile, Tor asked, “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” I lied.
“We can proceed?”
“Sure.”
“You aren’t… freaking out?”
“I’ll be okay,” I said quietly.
His eyes held mine as he murmured, “There’s my future queen.”
Oh man!
He clicked his tongue against his teeth and Salem proceeded. I turned forward again. Aggie chirped, “Cora, are you sure you’re going to be all right?”
“Yes, Aggie, no worries,” I whispered to the bird.
Tor’s arm gave me a squeeze and his thighs gave Salem a squeeze. The horse moved gracefully from a trot, to a canter, to a gentle gallop.
And Bellebryn got closer and closer.
Chapter Thirteen
Magical
I stood at the balustrade of the vast patio jutting out from Tor’s rooms in the castle and stared at the now dark sea filled with its ships, their lights casting long reflections across the water.
I was brushing the moisture from my hair after having just taken a hot, gardenia scented bath in a huge, oval, ivory marble bathtub.
Tor’s rooms were the shit. In fact, his entire castle was the shit. In fact, his entire princedom was the shit. If it was amazing from the outside, it was doubly amazing on the inside.
I’d made it through the village (which was relatively abuzz) while sitting atop Salem and held by Tor. Nearly everyone we saw turned and looked, smiled delightedly at Tor and dropped into bows or curtsies.
If their eyes fell on me, though, their faces became curious, which was okay, or they closed or went blank, which was not so good.
Upon our arrival at the castle everything went completely out-of-control. Tor’s servants, not knowing he was coming home, descended instantly in a tizzy of excitement.
Watching them, it was clear he was well-liked and completely respected.
It was also clear, when their eyes hit me, Cora was not either of those things.
That didn’t matter. Aggie and I were swept away to Tor’s rooms (when I would have liked to have had a tour of the castle, though I didn’t share this desire). I didn’t get a chance to do anything but catch his eyes, see him lift a chin in an “it’s going to be just fine” gesture before I was away. And I didn’t get the chance to say word one before I was divested of Aggie and led into Tor’s suite.
I quickly learned that Tor’s servants had gone all out when Cora last visited and even though she was there for a short time and had not come back, they kept things prepared lest she returned.
Therefore, she had clothes and toiletries at her, and now my, disposal.
I wasn’t fond of the scent of gardenia (it was pretty enough, but too strong) but I didn’t share this either as a meal was silently served (the first I did not have with Tor in ages, nevertheless, it was scrumptious, with rich sauces and lean cuts of meat, and I was amazed they threw it together on such short notice), a scented bath was drawn and delicate underwear and nightclothes were laid out for me.
They had towels, not made of terry, but of thick, soft, absorbent material that they heated on racks by a fire. They didn’t only have bath oil but also soap, shampoo, and, get this, conditioner. (Hurrah! No more frizz!) They even had straight blades so I could shave my legs and armpits (this I did, but very carefully, straight blade razors were more than a little scary but I succeeded in nicking myself only once).
The whole place was awesome – if I didn’t allow myself to think of the fact that the four woman who danced attendance on me didn’t meet my eyes, said barely anything and treated me with unfailing courtesy if not an ounce of friendliness no matter how I tried to catch their eyes and give them a smile or engage them in conversation.
They left me to my bath; I allowed myself to luxuriate in it, letting the hot water soothe the kinks of the long ride out of my muscles. I got out, toweled off and turned to my newest outfit.
The city, castle and rooms were awesome. But the underwear, nightgown and robe were more awesome… by far.
Not shorts or drawers, laid out for me were actual panties made of pale yellow silk edged at the bottoms with lace. They fit a bit snug (Cora of this world definitely weighed more than a few pounds less than me) but they still looked fantastic.