A Court of Innocents

11: Compromise

Tamlin's first order of business: get us new clothes. He brought us to a hole-in-the-wall boutique at the edge of Windsor. Tamlin requested someone named Amara to help us, and a minute later a small, round woman with skin made of bark came out from the back of the shop.

She bowed to Tamlin. "Several new moons have passed since our shop has been graced with your presence, High Lord. What special occasion brings you in today?"

Tamlin offered her a smile. "These two need new clothes. I'd like for them to fitted and given two week's worth of your finest materials."

Amara turned her attention to Lucien and me. She briefly scanned our outfits—the black leather that was common Night Court fashion—but that's not where her eyes stayed. She paused on Lucien's face. A gasp fell from her lips as her eyes widened.

"Lucien Vanserra," she gasped, and I could have sworn those were tears in her eyes.

Lucien gave her a warm smile. "It's good to see you again, Amara."

She stepped towards him. "We never thought you'd return to Spring, let alone Windsor."

My cousin's eyes turned somber as he admitted, "Neither did I."

Amara nodded, as if she knew that's all she'd get out of him on that topic. She brought her attention to me, careful to hide the surprise at the sight of a woman wearing pants. Though it was normal in the Night Court for the women to wear pants as often as they wore dresses, it was a foreign thing to those of the seasonal courts. But she focused on my face instead—my eyes, my hair—and noted the features I shared with Lucien.

"I'm Amara, Miss..." she began.

"Yara," I said. I could tell she wanted a last name, a full name to know me by, but my last name wasn't something I said out loud if it could be avoided. Of course, I was honored to share that with Lucien too, but... I couldn't risk word getting out that Yara Vanserra was in the Spring Court.

Not when my cousins still hunted for me throughout the Continent.

Amara nodded, accepting that I'd given her anything at all, and reached for my arm. "Come, darling Yara. I'll take your measurements and then you can sample our collection. The summer line just arrived this morning; your timing couldn't have been better."

And that was how I ended up spending three hours in a boutique, letting strangers measure my naked body and stuff me into clothing I didn't like. But I did it because I had to. Tamlin couldn't let his newest emissary and Second-in-Command dress in Illyrians leathers. If we were to unite the court under his rule again, we had to become one of them.

It was easier for Lucien to fall into the flow of things. He knew these people, knew how to talk to them to make them feel at ease. He understood their customs and trends. Within the first hour he had a closet's-worth of new outfits picked out, all in handsome shades of green, yellow, blue, and orange.

I, on the other hand, looked like a fish out of water. The longer we spent in the boutique, the more I questioned if Tamlin really knew what he was doing, if I would make a good Second for the Spring Court. Amara insisted that every dress she handed to me would look dazzling with my body type, or was perfect for my skin tone, or something else that made it the best dress for me. And with every dress she handed to me, I took one look at my reflection in the mirrors and felt like a doll being dressed up in ludicrous outfits. Eventually, Amara insisted that I have Lucien and Tamlin look at each piece to get a man's input, and though Tamlin tried to be passively polite, Lucien agreed with me. I'd spent too long in black Illyrian leather to look good in anything else.

"If you feel unnatural," Amara eventually told me, "then that's how you'll look. But if you wear those dresses like you're meant to wear them, like they were made specifically for you, then that's how they'll look."