A Promise of Iron by Brandon McCoy (the reading list .txt) 📕

huh?” I said as I stepped towards the door. “You should try to get some actual rest.”

“Plenty of resty in the grave, my boy. Now piss off, I have work to do.”

I stepped out into the hall and closed the door behind me. As I did, I heard footsteps echoing in the distance.

“There you are,” Crylwin said as he rounded the corner. “Come with me.”

Chapter Twenty and Three

Summer 1272, Cyllian Imperial Count

Outside of the initial greeting, Crylwin was tight-lipped on the way back to the study. I noticed his hair looked darker than usual, almost wet, a characteristic of the styling oil he had liberally applied. He wore a blue shirt that peeked out from behind the unbuttoned flap of his lord’s coat. It was pressed and cuffed with small sapphires. Crylwin was not a man who worried over his appearance, but today, he seemed best dressed in his Venticle best.

“Come on,” Crylwin said as he pushed the doors open.

I looked inside. There were the typical racks of weapons and dueling coats on the far wall, but at the center of the room were rows of clothes in varying shades of blue and grey. Standing next to the clothes was a petite woman with long black hair.

“Father wants you to look the part,” Crylwin said as he led me to the center where the woman stood waiting. “Pick any three sets, and Patricia here can have them altered for you.” He took Nahdril from my hands and placed her on the side table.

I turned to face the woman.

Patricia stood with hips cocked. She rested a hand lightly on her chin. Around one wrist wrapped a long length of cord, on the other, a bracelet made of cork stuck full of thin bone needles. She wore a low cut blouse of deep purple that exposed a strip of flesh from neck to navel. She had tan skin and light almond-colored eyes.

She studied me as I approached.

I swallowed.

I didn’t consider myself unfortunate looking, poorly maintained perhaps. I looked down. My shirt was ill-fitting, my pants smelled of horse from days ago, and my boots were worn and tattered years ago.

She did not scoff as I might have expected; the frown on her face said enough. She stepped towards me, leaned onto the tips of small black slippers, and reached behind my head- pulling me down to her level until my face was inches away from her own. She stared into my eyes, moving from right to left as she tied my hair into a loose knot. She stepped back, tilted her head to the side, and “tsked” before removing the knot.

“He has pretty eyes,” she purred with a delicate Seveli accent. “A high lord’s grace with the blue fire of a barbarian.” She rested her hand on my face and rubbed against the stubble. “Come now,” she said with a clap of her hands, “off with these filthy clothes.”

I began working on the buttons of my shirt. As I did, Patricia ran a finger down the cut of her blouse. When she reached her navel, I looked up. Our eyes met, and she pursed her lips. I gulped air and found a safe spot on the wall to focus my attention. She stepped closer, cord in hand, and placed her hands on my shoulders.

In a singular motion, she ran her cord the length of my arm, carried it across my back, and repeated the gesture on my other arm. She smoothed her hands across my chest, easing my shirt free from my shoulders. I let it fall to the floor behind me. Her touch was warm to my skin, and her perfume an exotic array of spice. I rubbed the gooseflesh on my arms.

“Your sword arm is a half-inch longer than your left. You know this?” She asked as she slipped her hands around the front of my pants. I felt the button come free.

“I’ve been fitted for a jacket once before,” I said as her hand lingered around my backside. “It was a different experience.”

She pulled down, and my pants fell around my ankles. I felt my face flush.

“He’s a maiden still, Patricia,” Crylwin mocked. “Go easy on him.”

She gave me a probing look. “This is true?”

“I’ve been with girls before…. He’s just teasing me.”

“Girls?” she said, smiling. “This your first time with Seveli girl.” She wrapped her cord around my waist, then dropped to her knees and measured my inner thigh. “We have no equal.”

Crylwin laughed, then coughed.

Patricia left me naked in naught but my linens while she went to the racks to select a few garments.

I turned to Crylwin. “Six hells,” I whispered. “You see the way she was looking at me?”

“It’s a different world on the other side of the Marches.” Crylwin chuckled. “Seveli women are notoriously friendly.”

“I didn’t think she was going to stop at my linens.”

“You should be so lucky,” Crylwin said. “I’ve had it for her since before I had hair on my nethers.”

“Oh, so she is the one that made your lord’s coat?”

Crylwin nodded. “Father knows her mother from way back; the ladies Delacroix have been making our family coats for years.”

“And here I thought my jacket was special,” I quipped.

Crylwin grinned. “Sure beats Richard taking your measurements.”

I looked to the racks and watched as Patricia agonized over three shirts in an identical shade of blue.

“Well, what should I do? I mean, I don’t want to…”

“Don’t be a princess about it; she’s not going to grab your cock and start leading you down the hall. She’s just having some fun with you; they’re all that way. Well, the Seveli I’ve met at least.”

Her head moved out from behind a pile of clothes. I returned my attention to that safe spot on the far wall. She held two pairs of slacks, one in black, one in grey, and all three blue shirts. She set the clothes down next to me then slipped the first shirt over my shoulders. I felt her pinch in