THE ELEMENTAL CHRONICLE

Thirty-Two |

Thirty-Two |

Aldrich brought me to the sitting room that was near my own room. When I opened the door, I instantly recognized the gorgeous human being that stood at the large window, moonlight danced across their skin making them look like an angel. My breath caught and I paused. It seemed Aldrich wasn't so affected as he stepped past me and shut the door.

"Braxon," Aldrich greeted warmly. "I've brought her."

As they turned, my eyes only grew, soaking in their form.

Lory Braxon was as stunning as I remembered.

This time, there was glitter rubbed into their ebony skin like an oil, allowing a golden shimmer to catch in the light every time they moved. They wore a golden gown which held a silver corset over the front, their trimmed and short beard had sparks of glitter through it, and those curls were pulled back into a high ponytail. I only wished to have such elegance and grace one day.

"Ah," they spoke with a warm smile which reminded me of a cat. "There's my favorite model. It's so lovely to see you again Ciara Roisin."

A shy blush warmed my cheeks. "You remembered me?"

"How could I not?" they laughed. "You're a brave, brave girl with wonderful skin. If you do not mind undressing, I can begin the fitting."

My eyes flickered to Aldrich.

"Ah yes," Lory Braxon hummed, flicking their wrist. "You can go."

Aldrich looked at them. "Pardon?"

Lory Braxon positioned their chin on the back of their hand. "I said you can do. You certainly do not expect someone to undress in front of you? Your cousin no less?"

His face heated and he glanced at me. "R-right."

With that he was gone. I giggled at his discomfort before looking at Lory Braxon. Unease filled me as they moved over to the long fainting couch where an assortment of fabrics had been laid out. I didn't want anyone to see my scars—not yet at least. There would only be questions I could not answer.

"I understand your discomfort," they murmured softly. "I do need to confirm those measurements. Perhaps we can meet in the middle? You may leave your undergarments on, or I can fetch a female servant?"

I shook my head. "I-It's not that."

"Why are you so nervous little dove?" they murmured, pulling on a lock of my hair gently. "How can I assist in making this a less painful experience for you? I can remove myself, it won't be exact but I can show a servant how to take the measurements."

It hurt my heart to hear such an unsure tone from the person who ought to be nothing but confidant. I realized then they misunderstood my nervousness. I then sighed, not wanting to hurt their feelings for the sake of my own secrets.

"I have scars," I admitted softly. "Which I wish not to be the source of rumors."

"Ah," they mused. Those eyes staring at me warmly. "I can understand that. I have been the source of many rumors but I can assure you, I wish not to gossip. Besides, you truly are my most treasured model."

"Really?" I laughed at that.

"Oh yes. You're like a rose not quiet yet ready to bloom."

Something about that comment was...endearing. As if they could see the potential I held and the future I'd claim. I smiled brightly. When I freed the fae I would make sure that the world knew Lory Braxon and their ingenious work.

"You won't tell anyone?" I asked.

They pressed a finger to their plump lips. "I wouldn't dare."

I nodded, allowing the fabrics wrapped around my body to fall to the floor—wraps and all. I didn't stand nude, my shift was still comfortably around my skin, but I did stand with every single golden scar now bared. Their eyes widened before a look of awe crossed those eyes.

"I see," they said softly.

My eyes flickered to the fabrics on the couch.

"This dress you'd made for me, will it cover them?"

"Do you wish to cover them?"

I nodded.

"A pity. I think they only add to the beauty you hold. But what is a rose without some perfectly poised thorns? If you wish them to be covered, I will alter the dress, but perhaps you'd like to try it on first?"

Hesitation filled me and I looked at the door. How long did we have?

"No one will enter without my permission."

I smiled nervously. "Are you sure?"

"Prince Aldrich would cut the head off anyone who dared, and the man would cut off his own rather than walk in on his little cousin. Rest assured."

"Alright," I sighed. "I'll try the dress."

Lory Braxon clapped their hands together. "Excellent."

I was so tired that I didn't even remember trotting myself back to my bed and falling asleep but I must have because when I awoke I was in bed. Each inch of scar perfectly wrapped under my shift. A groan left my lips and I bathed, the scent of hyacinth tickling my nose as my bare limbs soaked in the warm water.

Thinking back to my fitting, I was grateful that Lory Braxon was so kind to make the appropriate alterations. They'd told me that if I wished to change my mind, they'd sew some special crystals into the appropriate parts that if filled with magic would do something very special. When I asked what, they'd told me something that would emphasize my scars.

I did wonder what.

Suppose I wondered many things, like where Oberon was and what he was up to.

A sigh, and I slipped from the bath and began drying off. Then began the tedious task of rewrapping my scars, dressing in a lovely gown and an even lovelier corset, my boots before doing my hair. I wasn't an expect of hair by any means, but recently I'd begin trying to make more elaborate styles. Today I decided on two fishtail braids. Then, I was off out the room and down the hall towards father's library.

As I pushed open the door, the strong scent of rose tickled my nose.

"What did you do?!"

I jolted, spinning on my heels. The door closed behind me. My body turned left and right until I found the source of the voice: father had none other than Aurora Walden pinned against the shelf, a knife to her throat. I pressed my hands to my mouth in utter shock. The queen smirked, seeming unbothered by the position. However, she didn't look at him. Instead, those brown eyes were directed at me.

"Go to the dungeon," she said coolly. "See for yourself."

I blinked and the scene was gone. Each of my scars burning.

The dungeon.

It'd almost slipped my mind and yet the place seemed to be a reoccurring mystery. Perhaps it was time to see for myself and understand why the dungeon was such a protected place. The door opened, and I turned to see Orris Thistle standing. Good. I'd go to the dungeon and the duke would be my guide.

"I found you," he greeted. "Fancy some training?"

"No," I replied. "I'd like to do something else."

"And that is?"

"The dungeon."

He frowned. "No."

"Too bad. That's an order," I replied coolly. Magic warming my body. "Take me there."

Orris' body stiffened and to my surprise he didn't argue. Instead, he turned on his heels and began out of the room. As surprise filled me, I realized the man was not going to wait for me to catch up. So, I hurried after him, ready to uncover all Albion secrets.