Page 14 of The Hidden
I’m naked again, and I roll my eyes and release a growl. Why the hell do I keep waking up like this? I pull the top sheet off and wrap it around me. I stumble out onto the balcony, trying to figure out what the hell is going on, and have to duck to avoid getting decapitated by a massive wing as a gryphon whooshes past me. Another one flies by, and I notice that it’s decked out in armor. I look over the railing of the balcony to find other gryphons being fitted in the clearing at the base of the cliff.
The alarm is quieter out here on the balcony, but I see people scrambling into the cliff castle and others scrambling out, shifting, and waiting for someone to fit them with armor. I look up at the sky, figuring whatever is setting off these alarms must be coming from somewhere up there, but I don’t see anything other than blue skies and an occasional wispy cloud. Another gryphon that’s been fitted and kitted flies past me to disappear up and over the waterfall.
My gryphon starts to stir, and I focus on that for a minute, trying to discern what it is that captured her attention enough to make her show up. I’m not sure if it’s the alarm of the other gryphons setting her off, but part of me wants to try to coax her the rest of the way to the surface and follow the other gryphons to see what’s going on. Another part of me knows that would be a really stupid idea, especially since my animal is a dick and seems to take great joy in fucking me over.
The door to the room slams open behind me, and I move to shield myself with a pillar. A throat clears.
“I can see the trail of your blanket, milady,” a feminine voice informs me, and I peek to the side of the pillar to find Tysa standing there holding a pile of peach fabric. Her brown eyes are filled with amusement, and her cute pouty lips are turned up in a half smile.
I wave awkwardly at her and then step out from behind my bad choice of hiding spots. “Hey, sorry, I thought you were maybe Zeph or Ryn,” I explain as I approach her. “Apparently, I suck at hide and seek,” I add, gesturing to the bed I have no idea how I ended up in.
“We should get you dressed, milady, and then join the others until the all clear is given,” Tysa urges me, fanning out the fabric in her hands, which appears to be some kind of dress.
The alarm still ringing through the room has me nodding and unwrapping the sheet from around myself. I would try to get dressed myself, but whatever is in Tysa’s hands looks complicated, and I’m just happy to have clothes again. She holds the dress down for me, and I quickly step into it. I have no idea what it’s made of, but it’s the softest material I’ve ever felt. The gathered peach fabric has been sewn onto a rose gold chain, and Tysa fastens it around my neck.
“Loa said to make you something straight from the walking paths of Kestrel. I stayed up all night and made two gowns that should work, but I can take some measurements from you today and start on some more tonight,” Tysa tells me, and I can hear the nervous tension in her rambling. She attaches something to the back of the chain around my neck, and then I feel her wrap another cool metal chain around my lower back, bringing it forward to cinch the peach fabric just below my belly button.
“There,” she tells me, stepping back and admiring her hard work, excitement sparkling in her eyes.
I’m not sure what to say, but the fact of the matter is, I was more covered by the sheet then I am by thisdress. The fabric fastened at my neck is pulled tightly around my breasts and cinched below my belly button. There is nothing covering the side of my ribs, and the fabric drapes down well past my hips on both sides. The chain belt at my waist is the only thing keeping the gathered fabric from billowing out and flashing my vagina. The tops of my ass cheeks are visible from the low side drapes, but my crack is hidden by the part of the dress that runs up my spine and connects to the back of the chain at my neck.
I’m two chain breaks away from being naked.
“Very fitting of the highborn that you are, milady,” Tysa tells me, and as uncomfortable as I am, there’s no way in hell that I’m dousing the pride I see in her gaze.
“Call me Falon,” I encourage. “And I’m about as far as you can get from highborn,” I add, uncomfortable with all thismiladyshit.
Tysa looks at me confused. “But your hair?”
I run my fingers through the tangled tresses and pull it forward. It’s still a little shocking to see that it’s white with hints of light gray in it now. “Do all the highborn have white hair?”
“The women do, milady. Some buy wigs or pay a year’s worth of my wages to have a treatment done every month, but the purest mixes of Ouphe blood give the girls white hair. They’re bred specifically for that trait in the females.”
I’m confused by what she’s saying, but she hands me a brush and then hurries me out of the room, the alarm punctuating our urgent steps. I speed walk to keep up with Tysa’s longer stride and try to make sure my private bits stay tucked in and hidden. I’m led to the same massive room I was brought to yesterday for questioning, and I tense a little as I picture the table full of douchebags and their questions. Tysa leads me through the carved wooden doors, and I find that the room is now filled with people who are whispering frantically and wearing worry on their faces.
“I’ll grab you some food from the kitchens,” Tysa informs me and then disappears back out the door before I can say anything or beg her not to leave me alone.
I’ve never been one who was super comfortable in large social gatherings, and when you add in that I still have no idea where I am and know no one, I’m feeling a little awkward, to say the least. I make my way through the crowd, giving a small friendly smile to a guy I make eye contact with. He glares at me and then quickly turns away. Conversations become hushed as I get closer, and after a couple more glares and angry dismissals, I feel even more tense and awkward.
“Ahh, I was wondering if you’d be joining us or them,” Loa announces as she spots me and makes her way in my direction.
I don’t know who thethemare that she’s referring to, but based on the sneer she’s wearing, I don’t think she’s talking about the armored gryphons. Loa stops in front of me, her frame towering, and she runs her gaze up and down my body.
“I’m glad to see Tysa was able to accommodate your...tastes,” Loa taunts, and it’s clear by the way she saystastes, she’s insinuating I don’t have any. I look around and see that I’m very overdressed—or maybe I should say underdressed—among this crowd, and I raise a knowing eyebrow at Loa.
This bitch.
“Yeah, Tysa’s a rare talent,” I tell her casually, not showing any of the discomfort or irritation I’m currently feeling. “It was so very kind of you to order this dress for me. I’ll be sure to think of plenty of ways I can repay your generosity,” I reply, my tone sweet, my gaze threatening. It doesn’t take a genius to know that the termhighbornis a dirty word amongst these people and that Loa just hardcore fucked with my chances of fitting in here.
Or maybe my new white hair did that. Either way, I really want to get the fuck out of here, and as soon as I do, I’m ripping this dress off. I don’t care if I have to wear a sheet until I can get home; I don’t like how these people are looking at me, and the last thing I need is to be more of a target here.
The alarm goes quiet, and it’s enough of a distraction for me to slip past the tree-sized bitch, Loa, and make my way to a spot by the window. Relief washes through the crowd in the room, and the somber conversations quickly morph into more animated ones. Tysa finds me leaning against the wall and hands me a plate of food, none of which I can identify. I start with what I hope is a roll, figuring it’s probably the safest bet.
“Holy shit, that’s good!” I mumble with a full mouth as the soft buttery inside melts in my mouth with just a hint of sweetness. I proceed to stuff my face, not even caring that I’m eating like some starved animal, because I am, in fact, a starved animal.
“So, Tysa, can you fill me in on what the hell is going on here? I mean, going off of what I’ve been accused of and the sirens and shit, it seems like there’s some kind of battle going on, but I’m clearly missing a lot here,” I confess, and Tysa pulls on my hand, indicating that she wants me to sit down next to her.
I do, setting my plateful of food in my barely covered lap and attempt to slow down the ravenous stuffing of my face so I don’t choke. I bring a piece of what looks like some kind of turquoise fruit up to my nose and sniff it a couple times. I figure since it doesn’t smell like shit, it probably doesn’t taste like shit, so I put that theory to the test and take a small hesitant bite. I pump my fist when I discover that it tastes like the sweetest pineapple mixed with the sweetest strawberry I’ve ever tasted. I close my eyes and savor the new flavor.
