Copper Ravens(37)

“Not all at once,” Micah replied. “Such a gathering would likely be too much for Oriana’s delicate nerves.” His voice carried no inflection as he said that last bit, but I couldn’t help wondering exactly how loony this woman was. And she was supposed to be our leader?

I let the question go unasked, since I’d be witnessing her looniness in person soon enough. After a long bath (that’s right, the silverkin had not only figured out how to manage espresso, but indoor plumbing as well; sadly, showers remained beyond their abilities, so I was doomed to whiling away my time in a deep, comfy tub) and an even longer time spent in my dressing room, I still wasn’t ready.

Okay, the first thing that bugged me was that I had a dressing room. Back home I’d had a single closet that held every item of clothing I owned, along with a small cabinet for my unmentionables. And socks—lots and lots of socks; really, one can never have too many pairs. Now that I’m the reigning consort to the mighty Lord of Silver, my wardrobe situation has changed.

My dressing room—an entire room—was stuffed full of dresses and gowns and frocks and whatever else came with an attached skirt. It also contained all the assorted extras—shoes, hats, petticoats, corsets, and various other torture devices. And the worst part of all this frippery wasn’t the itchy lace or stiff crinolines, but that Micah loved nothing more than the sight of me in a dress.

I sighed and gazed longingly at the neatly folded stack of jeans. I was resigned to my fate, at least for today, since a visit to the Gold Queen was certainly a dress-worthy event. It wasn’t that I didn’t like the silks and velvets and whatnot; in fact, my wardrobe was gorgeous. And I liked dressing up. I just wasn’t accustomed to such finery, and the yards and yards of fabric made me feel like nothing more than a little girl playing in her mother’s closet.

Well, if I’m gonna play dress up, at least I’ll dress well. Eventually, I selected a bronze silk gown. The bodice and sleeves were edged with vines, skillfully embroidered in emerald green. It involved a corset, as all these costumes inevitably do, but only one petticoat, and delicate green shoes that matched the embroidery. The silverkin had coaxed my copper-colored hair into elegant sweeps and curls, but I disappointed them by refusing to wear any jewelry other than Micah’s token.

When Micah had first given me his token, a silver oak leaf and amber acorn strung on a delicate silver chain, I hadn’t known what a token really meant. I’d thought it was just a nice piece of jewelry, not something that bound me to him. What I also hadn’t realized was that I’d already fallen, hard, for this handsome silver elf, but then again, that had become apparent when I’d rushed out to make Micah my own token, the copper cuff studded with malachite and amber that I was so pleased with. He wore it, proudly, each and every day.

I’d never seen my mother wear any jewelry save her wedding rings, and a set of earrings Dad had given her right before he disappeared, despite the fact that her jewelry case back at the Raven Compound was huge, packed with gold and platinum and gems in every color. Jewelry should be given with love, she’d say if we asked her why, and no ever loved me as well as your father did. So, since I can’t really imagine loving anyone other than Micah, I guess I will only wear his token, until he decided to give me something else.

Once the silverkin had gotten me as good-looking as I was going to get, I exited my dressing room and found Micah waiting for me in our sitting room. Yes, our little corner of the manor, which comprised the requisite bedroom, along with a sitting room, bathing chamber (bathroom just sounded so utilitarian, whereas this space was nothing if not devoted to luxury), and a dressing room for each of us, was quite spacious, indeed.

Anyway, I found Micah reclined on the window seat, gazing toward the orchards. Since I was carrying my shoes, I almost managed to sneak up on him. I wondered if he’d yelp like a little girl.

“My Sara,” Micah said, turning to greet me at the last moment. I vowed that, someday, somehow, I would catch him unaware. Maybe I would even tickle him. “As always, you are lovely.”

I blushed as I murmured my thanks, then looked over Micah’s attire. He wore a white shirt that laced up the front, topped with a dark-blue velvet coat, along with his usual leather leggings, though these were black instead of tan, and black boots. Yep, he looked pretty darn good. I let my hand stray to the hilt of the sword that hung at his side.

“Mom and I did some practicing yesterday,” I said. “She’s pretty good with a sword.”

“Is she?” Micah noticed the shoes I was holding and motioned for me to sit. “Let me.” Not one to refuse assistance of the Prince Charming variety, I plopped down in a nearby chair and offered him a foot. In case you were wondering, the silverkin had painted my toenails a shade of emerald green that coordinated nicely with my spiky-heeled, open-toed shoes. After murmuring his approval of the color, Micah knelt before me and proceeded to kiss my ankle before placing the shoe on my foot. After he repeated the process, kissing included, with my other foot, he smoothed down my skirts and smiled up at me.