Love and Bounty

Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Best Fit

The night before the party at the Blue Palace, Hrolf was beginning to reconsider all of this. Rows upon rows of formal wear hung throughout the back room in the Radiant Raiment, each bearing a style more specific and acquired than the last. So many colors and—in all truth—not enough furs.

One of Jaree-Ra's contacts called upon the Altmer sisters' aid on his behalf, so no matter how cross they seemed with the whole arrangement, they had to honor it. The look on Endarie's face, before she retired for the night, said everything Hrolf needed to know—all of this shady business was only making the slight wrinkles on her face furrow deeper. Maybe they did smuggling on the side. Maybe that's how they knew Gulum-Ei.

Hrolf snuck a glance at Deeja as she stared off into nothing, clutching that sealed letter in her hands. She wasn't looking at any of the clothes... Not that he blamed her. The Altmer sisters had an imperial taste in fashion, the likes of which Hrolf wasn't very familiar with. His ma and pa wore their furs and animal skins like it was their religion, carrying their heritage on their shoulders and backs throughout the harsh winters in the Pale. Before he was even a young boy, Hrolf had furs of his own, gifted from family friends that he never learned the names of. He lost those a long time ago, though. It made him cling to the blue-black wolf furs on his shoulders even tighter.

As he did so, he paused to take a look at a gaudy green and gold coat, its tailcoat flowing as he stopped in front of it. Were those... feathers on the shoulders? Blue feathers, at the look of it. Where in Oblivion had the sisters gotten these clothes from? Were the nobles at the Blue Palace going to wear clothes like the awful coat? At the rate things were going, the nobility at the party would sniff his common rabble ass out in minutes.

As Hrolf inched closer to the feathery shoulders of the coat, a slight cough sounded from behind. He'd recognize that timbre and reptilian rasp from anywhere. He turned, and sure enough, Deeja was there. She still clutched the letter in her hands, her shoulders squared and tense.

"How's the search?" she asked.

Hrolf twisted his features with mild disdain for imperial fashion. "Not good," he said. "Who in Oblivion would even wear these? I'd look like a roadside attraction in most of this."

That made Deeja crack a wry smile. "Like you aren't one already."

Hrolf rolled his eyes. "Bite me."

After he turned back around to continue his search, Deeja reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. The touch was feather-light, but it stopped Hrolf in his tracks regardless. He looked over his shoulder, and what little amusement Deeja had on her face was gone. A look of worry had crossed the emerald scales of her face.

"Wait," she murmured. "Do you... have a moment to talk?"

Hrolf could suddenly hear his pulse in his ears as he gave a nod.

Deeja averted her gaze to the floor for a moment, her tail swaying behind her. When she looked back up at him, her pupils were almost completely rounded out.

"I'm... scared to give this to Taarie," she admitted.

That eased the pressure on Hrolf's chest. Only then did he realize that he hadn't been breathing. "I could do it," he said. "Or I could run it to Gulum-Ei on the return trip."

Hrolf's latter offer made Deeja flinch, her tail suddenly flicking to one side and nearly slapping another hanging coat. "No, no. I don't want to risk you being seen a second time. Jaree-Ra has eyes everywhere."

"Then let me take it to Taarie," Hrolf said. "This seems to be bothering you. A lot. You can even watch me do it."

Deeja shook her head vehemently, her brow furrowing with conviction. "This is something I need to do," she said, more firm than ever before. "Even if Galum-Jei doesn't know it..." Her expression softened. "...it means something, y'know?"