I give him a little nod and smile. "Save it for Yulenna if you want to flirt with anyone." Even if I was interested, his mouth was on as many women as he could possibly manhandle last night, and that's just gross.

Plus…he's not Aron.

The lord of storms might be ruining me for all men in the future.

It's the laziest day I've spent since I arrived in this world. I don't leave the rooms, and staff bring up delicate sweet treats and fine wines for us to feast on. I eat my weight in candied fruits as servants massage my limbs and rub scented oils into my skin. My hair is washed, trimmed, braided, and perfumed. It sounds amazing, but there have been so many awful days since I arrived in this land that I can't even relax for this. I keep one eye on the door and watch every new person that comes in suspiciously. I keep a small dagger (meant to cut food) under my thigh at every moment, just in case someone decides to murder me. Yulenna relaxes and enjoys every last moment as if it's her due, though. She bosses around the servants and picks through the clothing brought for her as if she's lived this sort of life for all her years.

And she flirts. Lord, how she flirts. She flirts with Solat. She flirts with the male servants that empty out the bathwater. She flirts with anything that enters the room and has a penis. I just watch her with amusement, wondering if she's trying to secure her future or she just genuinely likes men that much. It's clear she's in her element, though.

Not me. I feel like a fish out of water as I always do, constantly out of place and not sure what to do with myself. Oddly enough, I wish Aron was here to talk to. He'd say some snippy, arrogant shit that would remind me that even when he’s a dick, he’s still kind of fun to be around. We'd share a smile over something. More than anything, he'd understand if I complained about feeling out of place.

He knows what that feels like, after all.

"Did you bring in the concubine's new dresses?" Yulenna asks in an imperious voice when the servants bring another round of food. I shove a nut-covered pastry into my mouth, licking my fingers as she turns and gives the servants an angry look. "Haven't we asked for our clothes? Repeatedly? She needs them so she can be ready to greet our lord of storms when he returns to our chambers this evening."

"I'm sorry, revered anchor," a female maidservant stammers to Yulenna. "We were told to bring the clothes, but then you asked for more food and—"

"And now the food is here, and we still need the clothes." She looks down her nose at the woman. "Go and retrieve them."

"Right away, revered anchor." The servant drops into a quick bobbing curtsy and then races out the door.

"Laying it on a little thick, aren't we?" I murmur to Yulenna, who just gives me an impish grin. "I mean, she's got a point. I did ask for more food. Whatever these little nutty things are, they're fucking amazing." They're shaped like stars and taste like heaven and I might have already eaten an entire tray. Or two.

Definitely two.

Yulenna just tosses her hair. "Oh, if we don't order them about, it messes up the pecking order. The more demanding that we are, the more it cements our power. We act like they're here to serve our every need and it reminds them who's in charge."

That's an odd way of looking at things, but it makes sense. I've been nice and polite to the soldiers, and while Markos and Kerren are kind and courteous to both me and Yulenna, Vitar smirks a lot and Solat flirts far too much for his own good. Maybe if I'd been firmer with them and established that we weren't supposed to be buddies, things would be smoother. As it is, I inwardly grimace every time Solat stares at me a little too long.

It's just a matter of time before Aron catches him and removes his head with his bare hands.

Of course, I'm a sick woman because that thought gives me a stupid little thrill that Aron would act jealous over something like that. Not that I want Solat to lose his head…but I like the thought of Aron being possessive over me.

Yulenna's smarter than she lets on, though. I eye her with new appreciation as the servants return and she gives them impatient looks and acts displeased. They all scramble to do her bidding and fill the room with their apologies, until her frown lifts and she gives them a tiny incline of her head, indicating they're back in her good graces.

She's got this shit down pat. For a moment, I feel a twinge of remorse. Would Aron do better with someone like Yulenna at his side? Someone who knows how to play the game and who knows this world and its customs? Probably.

Instead, he has me. I don't know anything, I can't fight for shit, and I'm bad at pretending that I do.

I suck as an anchor.

"There. I think these are acceptable. Try one on, Faith." She moves to the long chest of gowns and pulls the first one off of a stack.

I wipe my fingers, take one last sip of my wine, and then get up to join her. “Did you say these were new?”

“Yes. I figured I’d ask and see what we could get away with.” She gives me sly look. “The men only think about armor and weapons, but you and I both know that sometimes our only weapon is the way we look.”

I hate that she says that, because I hate that I have to agree with her. It’s become quite clear to me that the rules in this world don’t always apply like they do back home. Women are most definitely not equal here. Not anywhere here. That’s been a hard lesson to learn. I hate that I’m about to play up the only weapon I have because I want Aron to notice me. “Which gown’s the sluttiest?”

Her eyes gleam with approval and she puts the one in her hands back on its hook and pulls out another. “This one, I wager. Look at the material. It’s as thin as cobwebs.”

It is rather pretty and shimmery. The pale fabric reminds me of opals, with different colors swirling through the fabric as it moves. I touch it and it feels buttery soft against my fingers. “That is pretty,” I admit. “Think it’s my size or yours?” She’s got a bigger bust and a tinier waist than me.

Yulenna just laughs. “It’ll fit. Disrobe and I’ll show you.”

Sure enough, it does fit. I mean, how can it not? Once I get naked and she drapes it over my head, I see why she laughed. The word “gown” is a very loose term. There are two embroidered frog-clasps on each shoulder, and the rest of the gown falls to my feet in a shimmering, sheer fall of fabric that slithers over my skin. And it’s sexy. The fabric is sexy. The sheerness of it is sexy. Even the way it hugs my shoulders as if barely managing to stay on is sexy. The material itself clings and slinks against my body as if it’s a second skin, outlining everything and leaving nothing to the imagination.

“Want to rouge your nipples and cunt?” Yulenna asks. “So they stand out under the fabric?”

“Um, no, I’m good.” I resist the instinctive urge to put my hands over my privates as she studies me. Stand out? Everything’s already standing out. My nipples are standing at attention, sticking out against the dress and completely outlined. The now-trimmed strip of bush I’m sporting is utterly visible. I don’t think I could stand out more if I tried.

“Yes, I suppose he likes how natural you are. I can see it holds a certain appeal to him.” She studies me. “Lick your lips.”

“What?”

“Lick your lips. Wet them. Make them glisten.” She arches an eyebrow. “That’s what this is about, right? Seducing Aron into your bed?”

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