Gossamer (24 page)

“Let’s make a bed on the floor!” Katelyn said enthusiastically. Her blue eyes were bright as she grasped a small pink blanket and twirled. Her celebratory dance made me giggle.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” I said. My mouth stretched into a wide smile as Katelyn cheered. We set out laying down blankets for a comfy makeshift bed. “Grant, you can have the couch if you want.”

“I can’t take the couch and have you two ladies on the floor. If you are going to sleep on the floor, then I will too.” He winked at Katelyn and she squealed with delight.

After getting ready for bed, the three of us lay on the floor, with Katelyn in the middle. Nanny said her good nights and headed to bed. Katelyn chattered away and finally began to settle down. She crept closer and closer until finally snuggling right up against me. I absentmindedly played with her hair until she fell asleep. The craziness of the day replayed in my mind.

This didn’t even seem like my life, how did I go from normal teenager to future faery princess? Isn’t that what little girls dream of? I chuckled to myself. If only they knew.

“What are you thinking about,” Grant asked, speaking just above a whisper.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I wasn’t asleep.”

I relayed my thoughts about being a faery princess. He didn’t seem to find the odd humor in it I did. In fact, it seemed to bother him.

“You don’t have to do it, if you don’t want to.” He spoke fast as if he wanted to say it but knew he shouldn’t.

“Don’t have to do what?” I asked, flipping onto my side to face him. Katelyn snuggled now into my chest.

“Marry.” He shifted to face me.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” I scoffed. “But then again, I wondered how much say do I actually have in this matter?”

“If you go to court? None. It’s a betrothal. You’ve already been promised into marriage. So, if you want protection from them…” He drifted off.

“So you think I shouldn’t go to court and just be unprotected.”

“I didn’t say that. There are other ways, or people, to protect you.”

I chewed on my bottom lip. Was he one of those people?

“Seems like I’m damned if I do, damned if I don’t.” I sighed. “If I go to court, I suppose there will be more Brighids who don’t like some girl appearing out of nowhere and marrying Liam, but if I don’t go someone is bound to find me. I’m not safe on the other side from The Rite, I’m not safe over here from people who want to use me to their advantage and if I reject the offer I’m sure I will piss Liam off. I assume he doesn’t hear the word no too often?”

“No, he never hears that, and although it would probably make some people, like Brighid, happy to hear you rejected the offer, it will also upset a lot to see you turn down such generosity.” He paused, thoughtful for a minute, “Maybe you should just go to court and meet him. Maybe once you know him, it will be easier to make a decision. In fact, maybe you will want to marry him. He’s a good guy.”

“Do you think I should marry him?”

“I can’t answer that.” He met my eyes. “It’s a decision only you can make.” He rotated onto his back, placing his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. “But what I
want
is a different story.”

“What do you want me to do?” Worried he would say marry for safety, I held my breath waiting for his answer.

“You know the answer to that.” My heart fluttered. Did I know the answer to that? I hoped, maybe even felt, like Grant had more feelings for me then he let on, but was that really a safe speculation? It would be pretty embarrassing to assume that and be completely wrong.

“Marry for safety?” I asked, my chest tight as I awaited his answer. He angled his head in my direction. He seemed shocked by my question.

“You really think I want you to marry some guy, some stranger, without you even having a say in it?”

Okay, that was nice to hear, but he never said it had anything to do with his feelings. He just made it sound like he cared about me having a choice in the matter. My stomach flopped. It was sweet of him to think of me, but unfortunately not the answer I wanted.

I smiled at him. “Maybe I could have a say in it. You said he wasn’t that bad. There is a possibility after I meet him I will be willing to marry.” I tested Grant, waiting for a response.

He rolled his head to stare at the ceiling. “I guess you’re right, and if you choose him on your own, then I would want you to do what makes you happy.”

Once again, not quite the reaction I’d hoped for. He was so cryptic, constantly hot then cold. I didn’t know what to think about any of this. What would Liam be like? Maybe good-looking, a nice guy even, but then I reminded myself he wanted to marry a girl he had never met just to say he married a half-human.

“I think doing what will make me happy might make others very unhappy.”

“They will get over it.” He sighed. “Tomorrow will be a long day. We should get some sleep.” He flipped over, turning his back to me and shutting me out.

I wanted to do the same, but then Katelyn wouldn’t be able to cuddle with anyone. I lay like that–staring at Grant’s back–until finally deciding to just move Katelyn. Her small body lifted with ease as I placed her on my other side. I rolled over, my back now facing Grant, and snuggled into Katelyn. Even though my mind still reeled, listening to her calm even breaths eventually put me to sleep.

* * * *

Early in the morning, when the sun had just begun to peek through the curtains, Katelyn stirred. The sunlight seemed to rouse an internal alarm clock. My breath caught. At some point during the night, Grant had scooted up against me, his arm draped casually over my waist. I slowed my breathing pretending to still be asleep. What else was I to do? I didn’t want to throw his arm off of me by turning, but I couldn’t exactly nestle into him, no matter how much I wanted to. So I just lay like that, pretending to sleep, hoping he would wake up soon and correct his mistake on his own.

Katelyn squirmed under my arm and the rustling of the blankets seemed to slowly wake Grant. I knew he fully awoke when his arm went rigid. He carefully eased it off me, but when his fingers grazed where my shirt had ridden up, exposing my waist, heat rippled through me as if I’d been touched by a thousand tiny sparks. The sensation evoked an uncontrollable shiver. So much for pretending to be asleep.

I flipped onto my back, leaving only inches between our faces. When our eyes met I could see it, the desire to kiss me. I knew it, regardless of what he said, but then the moment ended. He quickly removed his hand, stood and walked out of the room.

Katelyn rolled over, now fully awake and gave me a big kiss on the cheek.

“Good morning, Kylie.”

“Well at least someone wants to kiss me,” I grumbled.

Chapter 17

Conor, Grant and I said our goodbyes to Nanny and Katelyn early that morning. We didn’t have far to travel but Grant was eager to get me to court, “safe and sound.” Although everything about this place was beautiful, I really missed modern technology, like cars, and not getting a phone signal drove me crazy. It would be nice if I could talk with Lexie. She probably wouldn’t have any words of advice about my predicament, but she could, at least, listen to me vent.

We trudged along heading out of the small village Nanny called home and onto a path which supposedly lead us straight to court. The closer we got, the worse I felt. Sweaty hands, queasy stomach, a pounding heart and I felt like all my blood had rushed to my head. What a mess. I would be finally meeting my mother, which I couldn’t decide if that was a good thing in light of recent discoveries, and I would meet Liam. The last one terrified me.

What would he be like? Was it just assumed I would instantly marry him? Did I at least get to know the guy first? My skin grew flushed and hot, and I was pretty confident a full blown panic attack bubbled under the surface. More than once I caught Grant watching me, probably sensing my uneasiness, but he stayed quiet.

“Home sweet home,” Conor spoke up pulling me out of my reverie. Blood drummed through my ears making it hard to hear anything else. I couldn’t remember ever being that nervous in my life.

A large wall with an entrance gate came into view. I felt as if I’d time-traveled back a few centuries. Grant had said they were an old society and rich in tradition, but I guess I expected royalty more along the lines of 21st century Queen Elizabeth, not 16th century Queen Elizabeth.

When we arrived at the entrance, the guards gave Grant and Conor respectful nods and let them right in without question. The minute we entered Grant’s demeanor change. He seemed stiff and very unapproachable. I couldn’t tell if that stemmed from his guard persona, or if something bothered him.

Inside the gates lay another village just like the previous, except more pristine. Not that the other village was dirty but everything here was perfectly manicured. From the houses themselves, to the streets, to the landscaping, nothing seemed out of place. The houses were still an eclectic mix of colors and designs but they tended to be larger and more intricate. Almost immediately, a huge building with gorgeous architecture loomed before us. The castle. It felt weird thinking of anyone living in a castle, especially if that anyone ever included me.

When I saw the stares and heard my name whispered, it was clear everyone knew who I was. It made me extremely self conscious. I hated the attention, especially since, judging by the looks on some faces, it wouldn’t surprise me if a fair share of it was negative.

We finally reached the steps of the castle and were greeted by more guards. These actually took the time to talk to Grant. Speaking in a hushed tone, he pointed in my direction. Eventually, the main guard let us in.

We entered through a large corridor, fear gripped me. “I’m scared,” I whispered.

Grant looked me in the eyes. Although his body language stayed rigid, his eyes spoke volumes. He mouthed
I’m sorry
and then tore his gaze away from mine. Instantly, I wanted to cry. My emotions needed an outlet and at that moment it seemed to be through tears. I inhaled a deep breath and held it for a second willing myself not to.

A young girl approached us, probably around my age, with a very unique look, but no doubt, a natural beauty. Her light brown hair hung long in front and shorter in back, purple streaks ran through her hair and her thick bangs were completely dyed purple. She wore silver eye makeup around her violet eyes, and her smooth skin shimmered. The girl informed Grant she had been given directions to let me get cleaned up before I met Liam. She wanted to take me off on her own, but Grant refused to leave me, stating he had orders not to. I silently thanked him–being alone was the last thing I wanted. I didn’t know who to trust around here.

Conor excused himself, clearly not up for babysitting duty. Grant and I followed the girl, Cara, to a long hallway with several doors. We entered the second one on the right. She escorted me in and told him to wait outside.

“So Kylie.” Her eyes were bright and her tone pleasant as she walked over to a large wardrobe. “What would you like to change into?” She threw open the doors revealing tons of clothes.

Timidly, I approached it and ran my hands over the fine silks, satins, velvets, taffeta, chiffon, every fabric you could imagine, besides cotton. “I’m guessing this isn’t a tee shirt and jeans kind of place.”

She laughed. “You humans crack me up. You drive luxury cars, live in houses much bigger than necessary, eat at fancy restaurants, yet you dress like,” she appeared to be searching for the right word, “well like humans.”

“Sometimes we dress up.” I shrugged.

“You have access to machines that can make dresses like these in a matter of minutes. No one has to painstakingly sew each detail, but still you choose to wear sub-par clothing. I just don’t get it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not judging you personally. I just don’t understand the thought process behind it.” She smiled. “Which of these catches your eye?”

I eyed the dresses, and then Cara who wore a short, bell shaped periwinkle dress. The layered dress grew thicker toward the bottom, which sat about mid thigh. It reminded me of a flower, a bluebell to be exact. I quickly realized just how out of my element I was.

“Will you choose for me? I don’t know how to dress here. I don’t even know where to start.”

She looked me over from head to toe–taking in my height, coloring, body shape–her eyes lit up. “Well for starters, you definitely should wear green.” She shuffled through the dresses, looking at several green dresses before stopping on one. “This is perfect for you.”

I really hoped she wasn’t one of my secret enemies and planned on humiliating me, but when I saw her choice, I knew that wasn’t the case. She held a dark green dress made of raw silk. The cap sleeved, fitted bodice narrowed at the waist, then flowed out and down, touching the floor. I bit nervously on my bottom lip, hoping the dress looked as good on me as it did on that hanger.

About an hour later, bathed and clothed, I preened in front of the long oval mirror admiring the gown. I thought about Cara’s comment and imagined the hours of work put into each handmade dress.

“Fit for a princess,” she remarked, standing behind me.

I frowned at my reflection. Princess didn’t sit well with me.