Swallowing Darkness - Laurell K. Hamilton [90]
That answered one question. Once upon a time, Mirabella had had two good hands.
“You must have stayed up all night to sew this coat, and the outfit for Doyle.”
“Don’t you remember, Your Highness? I made the red for you, but the queen did not care for it at court, so you never wore it again.”
Sholto frowned, then smiled and shook his head. “She thought it was too much color in her court. She called it too Seelie. I had forgotten.”
Doyle was dressed in red, a beautiful clear crimson that looked spectacular against the darkness of his skin. The contrast was almost painfully beautiful. The coat looked like a modern business suit jacket, except for the color and the fit. The fit flattered his broad shoulders and narrow waist—an athletic cut, they called it in the stores. There were pants to match, which she’d had to make small darts in so that they fit more closely at the waist, but the crimson cloth fit like a glove through the hips and thighs and spilled a little wide, so that the hem fell nicely over a pair of shiny black loafers.
She’d chosen a silk shirt in an icy gray, which complemented both the red of the suit and Doyle’s skin. She’d even had the nightflyer who had accompanied her do his hair in a long braid. The nightflyer had used her tentacles to weave red ribbons through all that black hair so that it trailed to his ankles with the line of red tracing back and forth.
“And Una helped me sew the coat. She has become quite skilled, and I envy her all those limbs to sew with.” She gestured at the nightflyer who had braided Doyle’s hair.
The nightflyer who had been standing so quietly against the wall, gave a bow. “You are too kind, mistress.”
“I give credit where credit is due, Una.”
Una actually blushed a little across the paleness of her underbelly. “I’m impressed that you made boots for Mistral in such quick order,” I said.
Mirabella looked at me, a little startled. “The sizes are almost the same. How did you know that they were new just by looking?”
“I’ve had to take the guards in Los Angeles shoe shopping. I’ve gotten pretty good at judging sizes.”
She smiled, almost shyly. “You have a good eye.”
I started to say thank you, but wasn’t sure how long Mirabella had been inside faerie. “Thank you” can be an insult to some of the older denizens.
Instead I said, “I do my best, and the coat you made for me is perfect.”
She smiled, truly pleased.
“You didn’t make the boots,” Sholto said.
She shook her head. “I made a bargain.”
“The leprechaun,” he said, and he said it as if there was only one of them, which wasn’t true. There weren’t many in the New World, but we had a few.
She nodded.
“Are you really going to date him?” Sholto asked.
She actually blushed. “He enjoys his work as I enjoy mine.”
“You like him,” I said.
She gave me that nervous eye flick again. “I think I do.”
“You know that there are no rules among the sluagh for who you sleep with,” Sholto said, “but the leprechaun has been pressing you for a hundred years, Mirabella. I thought you found him unpleasant.”
“I did, but….” she spread her hand and tentacle wide. “I just don’t seem to find him unpleasant anymore. We talk of clothes, and he has a television in his home. He brings me fashion magazines and we discuss them.”
“He’s found the way to your heart,” Doyle said.
She gave a little giggle and a smile. That alone let me know that the leprechaun had gotten some of his bargain already. “I suppose he has.”
“Then you have my blessing. You know that,” Sholto said. He was smiling.
Then her face went serious and grim. “Tully has courted me for a hundred years. He has been gentle, and he’s never gotten above himself with me, unlike some I could name.”
“Taranis,” I said. I said the name without feeling anything. Parts of me were still a little numb, and that was probably a good thing.
She glared