Broken Dove (Fantasyland #4)(21)

Pol had taken me to Munich, London, Barcelona and Athens. We’d vacationed on beaches in the Bahamas, Antigua and Montserrat. I’d seen a lot, all of it amazing, including in this world where I saw even more during the long carriage ride into the city in order to “acquire” the things I needed (these, I found out, being jewelry, perfume, makeup, hair stuff, shawls and the like, and let’s just say that shopping in a parallel universe was the bomb).

But I’d never seen anything like Benies.

There weren’t any skyscrapers and there was nothing like an Eiffel Towers or ruins, but it was still beyond the beyond.

Some of the buildings were painted a rich cream but most of them were painted in pastel colors and almost all of them had some magnificently dramatic black wrought iron work, either on balconies or on verandas or just decorating the fronts of windows.

And all of the buildings had flowers everywhere, blooming out of window boxes and pots on sills and steps and on flowering shrubbery.

In fact, shrubbery was a thing here, clipped in a variety of amazing shapes in front of houses or along boulevards or in small city parks. Anything from simple cones to fleur de lis to swans to entire people. I’d seen some fancy clip work in my time, but nothing thing like this.

So it wasn’t about architecture. It was about colors and embellishments, each building, shop or home seeming to try to best the one next to it, this making it all magnificent.

And then there was the hustle and bustle. So much was happening, people everywhere.

And their clothes! Mine were good but the women around me, their gloves, their hats, the feathers in their hair, the delicate shawls around their shoulders, the frilly parasols they used, their jewelry blinking in the sun.

Unbelievable.

Breathtaking.

And then there were cafés with outdoor seating, big striped awnings with scalloped edges, white aproned, black-breeches-wearing waiters with hair parted down the middle and oiled to their scalps and crazy-ass mustaches scurrying to take and bring orders.

Then there were the patisseries with such concoctions in their windows, my mouth watered just looking at them. Derrik noticed, took me in one and bought me the best éclair and cream puff (yes, both, I couldn’t choose) I’d ever had in my life.

And there were also coffee houses.

And elegant restaurants (not yet opened; Derrik explained the formal restaurants only opened for dinner).

And the shops!

Shops carrying miles of bolts of fabrics in every color and pattern you could think of. Or big baskets of yarn. Or huge barrels of amazing-smelling spices. Jewelry. Ribbons. China. Crystal. Shelves and shelves of wine. Or with cases of dozens upon dozens of cheeses with sausages hanging from the ceiling.

Last, there was the Marhac Sea, a vast expanse of water that looked like an ocean that stretched the length of the city on the southern end, the sun blinking off the tranquil waters, the water itself giving the city’s air a crisp, clean freshness. Plus there was the cry of the seagulls screaming to anyone who lived landlocked that they were on vacation.

I loved it. I couldn’t get enough, take enough in. I wanted to stay there for days, not hours.

Of course, the shopping bit started out weird seeing as Derrik instructed me to get “anything you fancy,” and since I was using Apollo’s money, I didn’t want to get anything at all.

Achilles, who had come with us, noticed and gave me a good talking to so I decided to get a few things to appease them.

Laures and Hans also came with.

Laures had dark hair, seeing as he was of the House of Ulfr, and dark brown eyes, like Achilles. But he was shorter (by a bit), also broader (by a bit) and he had a small half-moon scar around his mouth where a dimple would be that made his normal hotness hotter.

He and Hans (very blond, ice blue eyes, slimmer than the others but taller), also noticed my hesitancy and did something about it.

And what they did cracked me right the hell up, seeing as they were genuinely trying to help me find things I liked but both had very bad taste so everything they showed me was heinous and I wouldn’t buy it in this world or any world.

I knew they were doing this so we could move along as shopping was clearly not one of their favorite pastimes. And they eventually caught on that I was playing with them when I dragged my heels in shops, hemmed and hawed on decisions about the various things they presented for me to hurry up and buy so we could get the f**k out and move on.

We all got into the joke and Hans and Laures began choosing a variety of intentionally hideous or gaudy things for me, none of which they bought for me, all of which made me laugh until my sides hurt.

Derrik shut this down (after the fifth shop) and told us to stay focused, though he did it with a smile.

All the men also noticed that I was wide-eyed with wonder, and enjoying myself immensely, so it was them who started dragging their heels or leading me down various avenues to show me fountains or statues or buildings of note.

Giving me a great day.

It had been a whole week since I’d been transported to this world.

Now, I knew all the men. They dined with me in the evenings (every one of them, as a courtesy at first, I guessed, but I was hoping was their preference now). One, two or most of them would always be at the breakfast table in the morning, coming or going or lounging with me and chatting while I ate.

There was Derrik, Achilles, Draven, Alek, Hans and Laures, There was also Remi and Gaston.