Windswept (The Airborne Saga) (15 page)

“I’m glad
I got this on the initial tour,” she snipped.

His fingers whisked over her bare arms, drawing her closer without a firm touch. His eyes slid over her figure as if he was just double checking for any damage after dropping her.

“I wasn’t trying to impress you too much early on. You’d die from admiration,” he said.

“Admiration or fear?”

His face softened a bit. Leading her away, they headed for the exit of the hall and back to the floors she recognized.

“Seriously, Avery. It will take a lot to get used to. But you’re smart. You’re strong.”

Who exactly he was trying to convince was unclear. Avery maintained her stamina though.

“I’ll be fine
,” she said after he took her in his arms and brought them to the bottom floor. The building was surprisingly empty. The Guard followed always a few feet away. It felt awkward, like having constant eavesdroppers, even though they were all as quiet and subtle as possible.

“You’re going to have to be careful though. The press is itching for its new story. We’ve had years of experience dealing with them. But we don’t want an early, unexpected introduction.”

“Aren’t these people going to put my face together with the trial?” she considered aloud after a moment.

His mouth twitched.

“The press has a short memory. But please, not a word.”

“Scout’s honor.”

They headed down one of the east hallways for an indistinct distance. Mason stopped at a door and opened it to a bedroom. Though simple, it was still surprisingly spacious. The sheets on the bed had clearly been pressed recently, and the air still smelt of bleach and faint cleaning supplies.

Mason didn’t
seem to want to speak. He edged into the room and shut the door, blocking the Guard outside.

“Privacy is not the easiest thing to come around. I want to cling to it before it’s almost completely gone.”

Avery’s heart skipped a beat. Was this going to be a repeat of their experience in Portland? She didn’t feel prepared for it. Her lips had chapped and her hair had probably knotted into vicious tangles from the flight. She’d ideally need at least twenty to shower and thirty to fix her makeup.

“Geez
, Mason, I think you need to build up the romance a bit first,” she went for the joke but he didn’t laugh.

“I know. I actually kind of like the idea.”

He continued quickly when her jaw had slackened.

“Avery, when in our....relationship have we ever actually courted? Gone through any motions? All the time we’ve truly spent together has been in secret and in fear. This is the first time in a long time we are truly safe. So maybe we should do it right.”

“Courting?” she parroted like she didn’t even understand what the word meant. “You’ve just been declared Prince and you want to go on dates?”

Avery sounded more sarcastic and bitter than she actually felt. The pickup in her heart rate wasn’t exactly from anger but Mason had said it right
—this was unfamiliar territory. They had never gone through any motions and she somewhat liked that, having little dating experience on her end. And being romantic on purpose was just...Avery couldn’t picture it quite right. Mason and she had a strange relationship but a nice one.

“Well
, it’d be a great way to introduce you to the press as well, without them pinning you with any assumptive names. But that’s not why I’m doing it. Don’t tell me you don’t want to go out with me.” Mason’s accusation was a little playful but the follow-up was not. “You even dated Patrick.”

“Hey, that was after you sold me out to him! And I’m okay...I’m okay with it. But you better be a nice date.”

His face lightened up a bit and he reached out for her before she could sway around. Arms embracing her again, he pulled her closer and caught her in a kiss that didn’t last long enough.

“We’ll see. Please get some res
t. I’m still worried about the Willow magic and straining your body isn’t going to help anything. And leave your blinds and door shut.”

“Yes, D
ad.” She stuck her tongue at him, but he didn’t buy into her over-exasperation, squeezing her goodbye.

Even with her stubborn curiosity now flamed, she took his advice. With clothes and toiletries provided for her, she hopped in
to the shower and settled into bed. Night came quickly, and with it, most of the noise outside disappeared. She could still hear the water in the distance, but that wasn’t what stirred her.

An ugly feeling made her spring to her feet and creep to the door. She pressed her ear against the wood and listened
, but only silence met her. She was truly alone. Finding no locks, she returned to bed, forcing herself not to imagine things. Avery let out a breath. Leela once told her that she was letting post-traumatic stress stay around in her life.

But then she hadn’t really ima
gined Adalyn’s warning either—to stay with Mason. But surely a separate room wouldn’t be the end of them. And that stayed in her mind for the rest of the night.

Twelve

              When Avery opened her eyes, she stared up at the unfamiliar roof. Her first inclination that she was buried in the sheets and looking at her dorm room ceiling dissipated quickly. The memories coming back to her, Avery stretched out in the extra long bed before sitting up. The place was still classier than Mayweather dorms—a softer bed, richer sheets, and a mahogany wooden frame—but not by much. The small room had plain walls and short, tan carpet but she appreciated it feeling more like home. More awake and aware, her head snapped to the side when she heard the footsteps. Whoever they belonged too didn’t even knock. The door snapped open.

             
Avery flinched, drawing the comforter under her chin. A harpie woman let herself in. Blonde and curly, she could have been mistaken for Adalyn at a distance. But plumper and wearing brightly colored ruffles, she stood out onto her own. The woman didn’t introduce herself when she paced inside, poked her head in around the room, and tossed a bag onto the counter. Another bag came out and the woman unzipped it, dumped out all the contents with a clatter, and marched back to Avery’s bed.

             
“Um, hello?” Avery finally squeaked when the woman reached the foot of the bed. The harpie didn’t exactly seem like the maid. Avery had never seen a maid quite this rude either.

             
“Don’t hello me. Get up! We have work to do.” The woman snatched up the sheets and ripped them clean from Avery. Avery yelped, arms going around herself and knees rising as the coldness nipped at her skin.

             
“What work?” Avery quizzed a second time, surprise still fresh in her voice.

             
The harpie slowed just long enough to waggle a long fingernail at her.

             
“Mason sent me to help you get ready. We need to do your hair, your makeup, your nails, and really need to do your clothes.” She put emphasis on the last word with a poorly-hidden sneer.

             
“Sorry. Mason didn’t mention it,” Avery confessed. He could have at least sent her breakfast or a wakeup call first.

             
“The Prince wishes for you to be able to explore the Sunday market this afternoon. And he will likely meet you there,” another voice spoke up. Avery looked towards the door and its owner. In the frame stood Leon, but he had his back towards her offering more courtesy than the harpie before her had offered.

             
“Okay. I didn’t realize I needed a makeover for that,” She said, still reluctantly climbing out of the bed.

             
“He wishes to introduce you to the rest of the harpie people…uh…slowly. Carefully if you will. The Prince is being wise. A simple shopping trip will familiarize you with the area and people with your face. And Evelyn will just make sure you look nice for anyone. A good first impression,” he explained sufficiently.

             
“And it’ll never happen if you don’t get up. Leon, please I need space to work.” The harpie woman Evelyn shooed him out.

             
Avery hurried to obey, now with the harpie woman on her tail pointing out bottle after bottle. Avery dashed into the shower just to get away from her. The woman waited at the door.

             
“Shampoo. Shampoo. Shampoo. Condition. Condition. Condition. When you think you’re done, do it again.”

             
By the time Avery threw the door open, wrapped in a bathrobe, and wet hair in a towel, Evelyn quivered like a rabid dog. Her fingers twitched with the desire to grab Avery but she managed to wave semi-politely instead.

             
“I can’t get much done here. Come along now.”

Avery didn’t argue when
Evelyn hurried her to one of the higher flights. They reached the end of a hallway and Evelyn opened the door.

             
“Oh wow.” Avery gaped, unable to conjure a better word when her eyes scanned the room. They weren’t kidding about all out. For something so small, it still managed to hold an aura of space and grandeur. Most predominantly, against the wall parallel to Avery, was a massive desk carved out of marble. A three way mirror sat on top of it and a dozen lights on top of that. The counters were littered with every makeup tool, perfume bottle, and hairbrush that Avery could have imagined.

“
Leon, you mustn’t follow us everywhere. And certainly not in this tiny room,” Evelyn said as she shut the door on the Guard who had trailed them upstairs. As soon as he was sealed out, she let out an overdramatic sigh before prancing back over to Avery.

“He’s so protective.
Why exactly did Mason order him to stay posted outside your room all night?”

“What do you mean?” Avery couldn’t help but perk up.

Evelyn pushed on Avery’s shoulder, adjusting both Avery and the chair into the perfect position. Then she swept her fingers through Avery’s hair as if puzzled where to start with the stubborn curls. The conditioner hadn’t worked the miracles she’d apparently expected.

“He was standing guard, downstairs, by your room. Maybe making sure that you got settled. But a Guard babysitting a human is something comical.”

Avery swallowed loudly. She had to admit that in some dumb way it did make her feel better. Her mind flittered to Adalyn just for a second before a sharp yank on her roots snapped her attention back.

“I was told to change your look. And I’m thinking we start with this hair. I think blonde would do you a world of good.”