In the Eyes of the Queen [ Labyrinth ] ✔

Chapter Twelve

I hear a small clunk inside and a moment later the door opens to reveal a surprisingly flustered Goblin King. I bite my tongue to keep from laughing. Apparently, my intuition, though still rather untested, is right about some things.

"I cannot reach," I say, turning around, "so can you unzip my dress?"

"Unzip?"

Oh. I wonder if he knows what a zipper is. I stifle another laugh. "You see the line in the back of my dress? At the top, hidden in the material, is a little bar, like a handle. Use one hand to hold the top of my dress and the other to pull that little handle down and it will undo the fasteners," I say, managing to withhold the patronization from my tone.

"Oh. And what do I get in exchange for my generous assistance?"

An apology. But he deserves that anyway, so I cannot very well give it away as an award, can I? "My gratitude," I reply simply.

Apparently, that is good enough because immediately I feel him fumbling at the top of my dress, trying to operate the zipper. I try to control the shiver that runs down my spine as the night air enters my dress with the fluid downward motion of his hands on the zipper. He stays there for too long a moment, one hand clutching the material below my neck, the other still on the zipper at the small of my back.

"Ahem," I wake him from his stupor.

"Ah, yes. It is done." He releases his hold.

I turn around, considering exactly how to apologize and thank him. I cannot risk angering him further if I am to manipulate my way into his good opinion, but I guess there is no wrong or right way to go about apology and gratitude. "Sorry," I blurt.

"Excuse me?"

I hesitate a moment before continuing. "Sorry for not accepting your shirt. I must say that my rejection of your shirt was not meant to be offensive, though. Where I grew up, a woman wearing a man's clothes... means something, so I was just... taken aback. But I am sorry. This is not that world, and you are right that it will be infinitely more comfortable than sleeping in this rather uncomfortable dress again. So I apologize. And I thank you for your generosity in allowing me to stay here, even in your own bed, and wearing your own shirt."

I must be possessed by an evil spirit because I rise on my toes and place a kiss on the cheek of a very surprised Goblin King before dashing away with a hurried "good night" and disappearing behind the bedroom door.

Heart pounding in a mix of fear and excitement, I try to calm my adrenaline rush. With careful, purposeful movements, I change into the slightly large shirt and place my things against the wall. Letting my hair loose from the bun, I slip into bed.

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The sun and an early morning breeze drift through the window and I shiver in my nightshirt. Jareth's shirt. The aroma of breakfast drifts in despite the closed door, and my stomach reminds me that I have not eaten since my arrival in the Labyrinth. Briefly, I wonder how I lasted this long, and almost fall out of bed on my way to the door. With my hand on the latch, I realize that I am not appropriately dressed and that that is rather dangerous. I pull on my leggings, twist my hair into a knot, and thread my fingers together, pressing my gloves on more securely from where they loosened in my sleep. Leaving my boots untouched, I exit the room in search of food.

The sitting room is quiet. The study door is open, but I cannot tell if the room is occupied or not. I locate the source of the smell. Through the archway, on the expansive dining table, is a plethora of food. I am drawn by the sight and smell, but I pause in the middle of the room. If Jareth is still in his study, it will be rude to pass by without greeting him. And partaking of the food as if it is mine is rather presumptuous.