Frey (The Frey Saga, #1)(27)

We rode into town at a walk; Chevelle was sitting straight and tall in his saddle but his arm hung casually, hand resting on his leg. I was more comfortable watching him, looking for a reaction, than the passing elves. Two men were walking by in the opposite direction, staring at us. The length of my cape blew back, exposing the shape of my leg, and they hissed indecent comments. I gasped, shocked at their lewdness, and my horse picked up its pace to ride beside Chevelle. Chevelle held up the first two fingers of his left hand slightly, to still me I presumed. I guessed we hadn’t ridden more than a quarter of the way into town before he turned the horses to a medium-sized structure and stopped before a water and feed trough. He dismounted effortlessly and pulled me from my horse and into the building in a few quick steps, closing the door behind us.

It was dark but he waved a hand and several lanterns around the main room lit, giving it a soft glow. He indicated the right door on the rear wall. “Your room.”

I dropped my hood and nodded.

“I have some business to take care of before we move on.”

Move on? So this wasn’t our destination? Or he means back to the village…

He continued, apparently not noticing my perplexed expression as my mind ran through a list of possible scenarios. “The pouch from the vault, there was a stone in it?”

He wasn’t asking whether there was a stone but rather asking me to give it to him. I wasn’t sure if that was what I wanted to do but could come up with no reason not to. At this point, everything was fog, I was being tracked by Grand Council, I was completely ignorant of where I was, and I had apparently lost part of my memories and magic because I had been bound. Or was still bound? I realized he was watching me, waiting for the stone. I removed the pouch from my pack and untied the lacing.

As I reached inside, I felt the scroll and wondered what else was written in the ancient language. I handed the dark red stone to him. He nodded as he took it from me, not examining it before slipping it into a pocket. There was a sound at the door and he placed a hand at my lower back, spinning me and urging me into my room. I as entered, my door closed just as I caught a glimpse of deep red coming through the main door.

I tried not to huff at being closed in a room. I could barely hear Chevelle speaking to his visitor in a formal tone. “Ruby.”

Ruby? Before I could stop myself, I was at the door and then the wall, searching for a way to see in the main room. I found a tiny crack that allowed me enough of a view to see most of Chevelle’s back and all of his guest. Ruby. She looked to be a little shorter than me, a little smaller, but seemed larger somehow. I thought I knew why. Around her petite face, somehow wicked and shameless while still sweet and adorable, was a mane of deep crimson hair flowing in curls. How horrible a joke, her parents naming her Ruby.

I stopped myself from feeling sorry for her as she reached out a hand toward Chevelle. There was something sinful about her, her hand turned seductively in the simple task of retrieving the stone from him. Wait, my stone?

I couldn’t fathom why he would be giving my family heirloom to this woman. The anger was threatening to take me. I thought of the ruby again, the pouch from the vault, and then the map on my palms. The map was gone now, had disappeared upon reaching this village. And Chevelle was giving this Ruby my ruby. I shook my head, sure the fog must have been preventing me from thinking clearly.

She pulled a package from her cape and handed it to Chevelle, smiling a temptress’ smile. It was about two hands in size, wrapped in a light brown cloth. He slid it under his cloak and it disappeared from my view. I couldn’t imagine what she had given him, but it must have been a trade for my stone. As I peered fiercely through the gap in the wall, her eyes flicked to me and I was sure she somehow saw me. I held my breath and jerked around, away from the hole. I didn’t hear her expose me and my pulse began to slow.

I wasn’t brave enough to look again and I couldn’t hear them well enough to gain anything from eavesdropping so I started to look around my room. It was relatively large and ornate compared to my old bedroom. There was a bed wide enough for two, stone framed with dark olive bedding. A side table held a few trinkets and a decanter set. There was a small wardrobe in the corner and the east wall held a full length mirror.

I took a few steps forward to see myself in the mirror. The woman looking back at me was astounded. I stared in disbelief at my own image. I had seen the reflection in the water, I had known my hair was dark now, but as I gazed at the woman in the reflection, clear and undeniable, I could barely believe my own eyes. The dark black silhouette, her figure emphasized by fitted clothes, dark cape draped behind her, this woman, she was breathtaking. I examined her closer, stepping forward. Her hair was gloss black, slightly windblown. Her eyes, my eyes, were dark. Still green but gone was the muddy mix. Under my now black lashes were deep emerald jewels, flecked with the darkest brown. Chevelle had been right, this did suit me. The image in the mirror was stunning.

I flushed, embarrassed at marveling so over my own reflection. As the color flooded my cheeks, I couldn’t pretend I didn’t like the way it looked, but the changes were still unnerving. I tried to remember what I looked like in my oldest memories, to see before, attempted to recall my mother's face.

The door opened behind me.

“Ah, yes,” Ruby purred as she looked me over. “Lovely.”

I could tell by the way she said it that the word was not a compliment to me but instead she found it lovely that I was here or maybe even something else entirely. I could see Chevelle from the open door behind her; he was standing in the main room, that annoyed expression on his face.