Betrothed by Jill Myles Read Free Book Online Page B

You’re free to go at any time.”
    Go without the money and without a stitch of clothing, judging from the superior smile on Winna’s face. “I see,” she said, her voice flat. She stood out of the tepid bath. Immediately the two washerwomen were back, rubbing down her body and the long hair plastered to her back. “You have me well and caught, don’t you?” she asked Winna, and was rewarded with a pleased smile.
    “Not caught, girl. Lady Mila has left orders and I am simply following them. She wishes to have a savage carrying her train tonight and she shall.”
    Scowling, Seri stepped out of the tub and took the gown from the woman and began to dress.
    “You’ve practiced your proper address and carrying Lady Mila’s train, I take it?”
    “All morning and afternoon in preparation for tonight,” she agreed wearily, settling the feathered belt low on her hips. The skirt left her legs very bare, and they stood out, brown and long against the thin fabric of the dress. She had nothing on underneath—one windy breeze and she’d reveal everything to every lascivious man in the throne room. Hateful people, to humiliate her like this. She focused her mind on anything else to distract her. “Why the feathers?”
    “I beg your pardon?” Winna turned to her.
    “The feathers,” Seri repeated, gesturing at the belt. “I don’t understand.” She allowed the two attendants to steer her toward a nearby stool and sat when directed. One grabbed a wide-toothed comb and began to rip it through Seri’s half-dry hair. Seri sucked in a breath at the pain and then remained silent when the woman began to pull harder.
    Winna touched her own neat bun. “It’s tribal for your people, isn’t it? One of your ceremonies?”
    Tribal? Was the woman crazed? “My people haven’t lived in tribes for a hundred years,” she said with a rueful look. “The only ceremony we have is one to celebrate the spring, and we wear wreaths of flowers for that.”
    “Well, there were no flowers available in the dying season, so feathers will simply have to do,” Winna said, dismissing Seri’s complaint. She handed a wreath of gold-dyed feathers to one of the attendants. “Comb her hair but leave it loose—we want to emphasize her savagery. And weave this in.” She handed the gaudy feather circlet over and turned on her heel. “I expect if you want to see your money, girl, you’ll be in Lady Mila’s chamber in half an hour, ready to go.”
    Seri scowled at the woman’s back, debating her options as the women tugged and whispered over her hair. She could leave now and walk home—it was only a walk of an hour or two, but she’d be on foot, and she didn’t know where her shoes were. Not that it bothered her—shoes were expensive and she only wore them in the winter. Still, it was her only pair and she couldn’t afford another if she didn’t get the money.
    Thinking of the three dru depressed her. To come so close to the coin and not walk away with it? Briefly she entertained the idea of seeing this mad scheme of Lady Mila’s through. It’d be humiliating, without a doubt. She’d have to endure the women’s haughty sniffs and whispers about her savagery and endure the men’s leers at her half-clad body. But at the end of the night, she’d have her money and she’d be free.
    “Shall I put the wreath in your hair?” One of the timid women asked.
    Damn the gods, but she was going to take the money after all. Seri exhaled her pent-up breath, steeling herself for the evening. “Might as well. I’m not leaving until I get paid.”
     
    ~~* * * ~~
     
    Lady Mila was a vision in her golden dress, and she had artfully arranged a few long, golden plumes in her dark hair, tying her dress’s theme to Seri’s garish costume. She didn’t seem surprised to see Seri return, just nodded acknowledgment of her costume and eyed her. “Her skin doesn’t stand out enough,” she complained to Winna. “Dust her with the gold powder and let