“You know, I’m glad that I’ve got a chance to talk to you by myself, Zahrah.” Sawyer said giving his most disarming grin. Zahrah rolled her eyes.

“You’re married now, Sawyer. And your wife is jealous.” Zahrah told him. His brow went upward.

“She is?” Sawyer asked.

“That’s what everyone says and they do know her better than I do.” Zahrah shrugged.

“And to think just a couple of weeks ago she was still throwing me at other women. If it wouldn’t scandalize the entire country, I think she’d still be throwing me at other women.” Zahrah paused in midstep and stared.

“But you’re married.” She put her foot down on the ground.

“Aye.” He nodded.

“But–what are the divorce laws like here in Shadowcrest?”

“I–don’t know.” Sawyer said. “It’s not the divorce, really, it’s the annulment that’s usually a problem.”

“What’s the difference?” If she was going to have to get married as a teenager, maybe it would be better to know this now. Though she’d hope that if she got married it would be for love and to someone who she would never, ever want to divorce.

“Between an annulment and a divorce?”

“No. I mean how hard is it to get an annulment over a divorce.”

“Depends. Depends on the priest, depends on the kingdom, depends on if your marriage has been consummated.” Sawyer told her. “I think if we were really miserable, both Lord Gray and King Lachlan would give us a divorce.”

“So, it’d only be the consummation that would be a problem for you and Jolene?” Zahrah asked only to see Sawyer’s eyes drop to the cobblestone he was kicking at. “Sawyer? You–you guys haven’t–done it?” A flush crawled up his cheeks and over his ears as he continued to stare at the ground.

“She needs more time.” Sawyer whispered.

“Wow, cause if I was with a guy as hot as you–I think I’d have a hard time waiting til the wedding.” Zahrah exclaimed. Sawyer drew his hazel eyes up and looked hard at her.

“You–you think I’m–attractive?” Sawyer asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Hell yeah.” Zahrah said. “Most of you guys are. I mean, Emanuel is a bit mopey and emo for my taste, And Jarrett’s just–I don’t know how you could be attracted to him. And I mean, Lord Gray is kinda–I mean you just can’t entertain fantasies about him. There’s nothing there to work with if you spent five minutes in his company. But you’re very good looking.”

“What about Tate?” Sawyer asked after a moment’s quiet.

“He’s–cute.” She bit her lip.

“Cute?” Sawyer asked. “In what way?”

“Well, you know, cute, like Alistair’s puppy, or the new foal, or the baby chicks.” Zahrah cocked her head to the side. “How else could he be cute?”

“Like an attractive guy is cute?” Maybe Sawyer meant it as a statement, but it definitely went up in pitch as if he weren’t sure. Zahrah must have looked puzzled. “I’ve heard Lady Fiona telling Lady Jennica that King Lachlan is ‘cute’, which sounds different than when Lady Heidi or Jolene would tell me I was cute. The former sounds like someone you’re–what’s Mistress Peyton say ‘in to”? The latter was definitely baby chick cute.”

“Oh, well, it’s not that Tate’s not kinda hot. He’s just–he’s not swoon-worthy. He’s so boy-next-door.” Zahrah tossed her hair. “It’s not that I don’t like him–but he’s like best friend material. Sweet, kind, the guy you can depend on,” She listed.

“You make that sound like a bad thing. Mistress Raquel says the same thing about Blake, only it doesn’t sound bad when she says it.” Sawyer said.

“I don’t mean it bad.” Zahrah said. She chewed on her cheek for a moment trying to think. “It’s just–he’s like the actor you see in a movie that always does a great job, and you enjoy seeing him in the movie. But he’s not the leading man. He’s not the one you go to the movie for. He’s not the one you daydream over. He’s not the one you spend all weekend cutting pictures out of your magazines of.”

“And Alistair is the ‘leading man’?” Sawyer asked.

“C’mon, why is everyone so down on Alistair. He can be a really great guy if you get to know him!” Zahrah found her bottom lip pushing out into a pout. Seriously, it was totally like a movie, she was the only one who could see past his outside to the sweet guy he was underneath that.

“Maybe we do know him.” Sawyer muttered before turning to resume his path toward the house that Nessa, Jarrett, and Olivia shared. “Morning, Nessa!” He called as she stepped out onto the small front porch. “You’re looking particularly lovely this morning.”

“Sawyer, your flattery will get you nowhere.”

“But you do! Doesn’t she?” Sawyer asked turning toward Zahrah again.

“Her–your hair looks nice.” She didn’t understand Nessa. She was so much prettier when she put a little effort into her appearance. Most of the time she didn’t do anything more than pull her beautiful strawberry gold hair back in a completely unflattering braid or knot.

Between Kennedy, Jennica, and Emanuel it wasn’t like they didn’t have cosmetics around to be worn. But she was pretty sure the only time she’d seen anything on Nessa was at Jolene’s wedding. She didn’t even attempt to cover the scars on her face or give you anything else to focus on.

The looser hair was marginally more flattering.

“Okay, Liv, you win this one.” Nessa called back in the house, a laugh drifting out in response on the late summer breeze.

“Goody! I adore winning.”

“And I’ve resigned myself to not winning.” Nessa said dryly, Sawyer laughed as he followed her into the house. Zahrah followed Sawyer, knowing she shouldn’t, he was married but he had a very cute, tight butt under those hose and the fabric left very little to the imagination and it was kind of distracting, really.

“So, you ready to head up now?” Jarrett asked standing up from the table.

“Just about.” Sawyer said, turning to Zahrah, who was still lingering in the doorway. “You know, exciting isn’t always better. Fires, floods, and animal stampedes are all kind of exciting, that doesn’t mean they’re good.” What? Why was he going all Yoda all of a sudden? But he apparently wasn’t going to explain because he just nodded to her, bowed to Nessa and Olivia and followed Jarrett out the door.

“So you never finished telling me what he said.” Nessa said to Olivia who put down the needle she was using to weave with.

“Oh–you know him. King of the backhanded compliment. He asked me if I always put on weight in my ass because it was looking better these days.” Olivia tossed her hair over her shoulder and looked at her backside.

“Well, what did you expect, he’s not exactly Shakespeare.” Nessa said. “And your ass looks fine, Liv.”

“That’s cause you don’t have to see me naked.” Olivia retorted dryly. “Then again no one else does either, so I guess I can live with it.”

—

Afternoons like this, soft and sweet like warm honey, were just too rare to spend cooped up in the house helping bake pastries. And even a hard task master like Olivia realized that the heart wasn’t in her apprentice about the second time she found her thoughts wandering off as she was applying icing, getting it all over the counter. So Zahrah found herself banished to the outside while Nessa and Olivia finished up the last couple of batches.

The only thing better than lounging on the pillowy grass watching the clouds in the sky was if there had been anyone to watch them with. Someone like…

“So the cruel dungeon master let you out for the afternoon, my lady?” Alistair’s handsome face stepped into her view. She felt her heart thumping just a little harder in her chest. He was so handsome and even though almost everyone called her my lady or lady Zahrah, there was just something–personal about the way he said it, something cutely possessive. Like a pet name.

“Olivia isn’t cruel, she’s really nice.” Zahrah told him as she stood up and brushed the grass off her skirt.

“Certainly.” He smiled, although there seemed to be something else behind it. But before she could decipher it, he held out a dozen roses to her. It wasn’t shy how he did it, as Tate might have, with a blush and a stammer, simply graceful and charming. “A rose for a rose, Lady Zahrah.” No, Zahrah was the one blushing.

“Thank you. They’re beautiful.” Zahrah said bending to inhale them.

“Well, what else could I bring such a beautiful lady” He asked.

“Oh, there you–oh Alistair.” Nessa said coming through the gate.

“Lady Nessa.” There was something small and tight in both their voices, though all they directed toward her was smiles, forced smiles, but smiles. Like she was five again and couldn’t see through it.

“Does Olivia need me for something?” Zahrah asked, her heart sinking, just a little. Yes, she was supposed to be helping Olivia and learning how to cook, but really who wouldn’t rather spend their afternoon with their crush, holding roses and being flattered rather than packing pastries up for the next morning’s market.

“Well, we do need to get these carried up to Fox’s for market.” Nessa said. A whine built up in Zahrah’s throat, which she wouldn’t give voice to, it would only make her sound like a petulant little kid in front of Alistair.

“Right.”

“Couldn’t you assist her, Lady Nessa.” Alistair asked dryly.

“Only if someone else wants to go check on the barn and feed the animals in it.” Nessa’s voice was bland. “And Zahrah is supposed to be Olivia’s assistant, which makes carrying them part of her job.” Zahrah sighed.

“I’ll be right in.”

“Tate!” Nessa called, suddenly. Zahrah looked at Nessa, then in the direction Nessa was looking, yes, there was Tate. Maybe Tate could take the pastries to market with Olivia and Zahrah could leave early. Although there was a part of her that felt guilty for even thinking it. Tate had already put in most of an afternoon working for the king, it probably wasn’t fair to make him do her job on top of his.

“One moment, Lady Nessa.” He called back.

“Well, my lady, it seems our time has been cut short.” Alistair leaned closer to her to murmur in her ear. If she’d been looking she might have noticed the way his leaning closer was timed just for when Tate rounded the corner. Might have seen the look of hopelessness cross his face. See the look of disgust cross Nessa’s. But all she could see were Alistair’s beautiful brown eyes.

“Guess so. I’ll–see you later?” She asked. He nodded with that smile that made her knees get all quivery, then headed off toward the front gate. She was still watching him, so she didn’t see Nessa pat Tate’s shoulder, or the pain on his face as the other woman did so.

And there wasn’t even anyone she felt like she could talk with about stuff like that. How could you go up to Peyton and talk about not feeling confident? No, Peyton didn’t follow the feminine trappings but she was like-like Katherine Hepburn. That short platinum hair and make-up less look was her signature. And to hell with everyone else if they didn’t like it.

Of course Sawyer would be head over heels for Jolene! Jolene was stunning. She was a lady, strong and capable but still a lady. Why couldn’t she be more like that? Instead of tripping over her feet, still too skinny.

Well, yeah, Kennedy was brash and no-nonsense, abrasive even, but she didn’t let anyone tell her what to do or who to be. She could keep her head up no matter how many times she might take one on the chin. And nobody scared her, nobody! Some days Raquel felt scared of her own shadow. She would never be able to stand up to Lachlan the way that Kennedy did.

Or to have done what Kennedy did to Jarrett!

To add insult to injury, she had that deep tan skin and those deep stormy blue eyes that reflected her mood. Raquel couldn’t tan with a bottle of self-tanner! And her eyes were just a blah green, not even a pretty green.

Tiffany was so competent and funny, and pretty. And Raquel coveted Tiffany’s hair, which always laid so pretty, where hers liked to get frizzy and it was a blah brown. Tiffany could design buildings. Buildings! Raquel couldn’t do anything like that. Day late and a dollar short, that was what she was.

Even Heidi, who was such a sweetheart that you just couldn’t hardly be jealous of her. Except Raquel was. She was beautiful, that perfect, even, just a little bit freckly skin. But even more than her looks, she was nice to everyone, even Alistair. And nobody was nice to Alistair. He was the asshole of the year!

When everyone else was wrapped up in their after dinner activities, Raquel snuck upstairs and changed into her pjs. If anyone came up, she could pretend that she was just tired and had wanted to go to bed early. With the make-up washed off her face, Raquel’s features took on their regular bland countenance.

Hopeless, that’s what it was. Completely hopeless! Why would Blake want to marry me? She thought as her reflection wrinkled it’s nose. I’m nothing special, nothing at all. He’s gonna find that out and then it’ll be too late! He’ll be stuck with me.

She could hear footsteps on the stairs and hurried over to her bed, sitting down on the edge, trying to school her features to looks sleepy.

“Hey, you hurried off so quick, I was worried.” Heidi said stopping in the empty space between their beds. “Tired?”

“Yeah.” Raquel looked down at her hands, the lie was easier to tell if she wasn’t looking at the person she was trying to lie to. Hopefully that’d be good enough and Heidi wouldn’t stay and talk. But luck didn’t seem to be with Raquel in that either, cause Heidi sat down on her own bed, fluffing the pillow.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Being sleepy?”

“No, what was keeping you quiet during dinner, what made you hurry upstairs away from us right after.” Raquel shot a look at Heidi, whose dark brown eyes looked sable in the candlelight, soft black and full of concern. “You worried about getting married? Blake’d wait if you asked him to, you know.”

“I shouldn’t be marrying Blake anyway.” Raquel’s hands clapped over her mouth as if she could shove the words back in.

“Do you not feel ready?” Heidi asked.

“No, it’s just Blake is so wonderful, he’s kind and he’s sweet and he’s a good friend and a good man, and he deserves somebody just as wonderful. And he’s gonna get me!” Her traitorous mouth poured out to her horror. “He deserves so much better.” She whispered.

Heidi was quiet for a long moment and Raquel’s stomach fell. I’m even worse than I thought, even Heidi can’t jump to my defense.

“So, if I buy that, do I get a beach house on Mount Shadow too?” Heidi asked.

“There aren’t any beaches on Mount Shadow.” Raquel said, puzzled for a moment.

“Exactly.” Heidi said. “I find it a little hard to buy that you’re not worthy of Blake, too. He adores you. Maybe he doesn’t go hiking across the city to serenade you in a blizzard, but only cause he’s not as-silly as Sawyer is sometimes.” Heidi shook her head. “He would if he thought it would impress you.”

“I’m just…” She couldn’t say afraid, she wanted to say afraid but she couldn’t admit that. “I was trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my hair and my makeup, for-for the wedding and everything I did looked like ass! I look like a freak.”

“You don’t. You’re a very pretty girl, Raquel.”

“It looks like I have some sort of disease on my face.” Raquel said, sitting up and staring down at her lap.

“Who said that?” Heidi asked.

“Alistair.” A glance at Heidi showed the redhaired woman’s lips tightening as if she’d bit into something sour.

“Well, that figures.” Heidi shook her head. “Why don’t you show me what you were trying, if you’re not happy with it, maybe I can help you make it better.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Raquel protested.

“Have to, no, want to, yes.” Heidi said with that shy, wonderful smile. Raquel stood up and gathered her make-up from the box under her bed. She marched over to the mirror and applied it just as she had earlier. And just as it had earlier, she looked like she should have been sporting a rainbow wig and a big red nose.

“See!” Raquel shook her head. “Would you want to wake up next to something that looked like that.” She gestured up at her face.

“Sweetie,” Heidi said putting a hand on her shoulder. “It’d flip me out to wake up sleeping next to any woman.”

“That’s not the point!” Raquel shook her head, her features twisting. “You didn’t even tell me it’s not bad.”

“It’s not what I would do. But I’m not you.” Heidi told her. “But that doesn’t mean that it looks terrible.”

“But even I don’t like it.”

“Well, I know that pairing a strong lipstick with a strong eyeshadow on pale skin can be overwhelming. I know rules are made to be broken, but there was a reason why it was a ‘rule’ for so long.” Heidi said, then cocked her head to the side. “I think that the eyeshadow might look less overwhelming if you wanted to use a lighter lipstick.”

“But aren’t ladies supposed to have red lips, like Snow White?” Raquel asked.

“You mean like ‘medieval ladies’ or do you mean like ‘faerie tale ladies’?” Heidi asked. “Is that how you want to do your hair?”

“My hair’s wrong too?” Raquel asked in despair.

“Not wrong. There isn’t a wrong here, Raquel.” Heidi said. She looked at Raquel for a long moment, something passing over her face.

“C’mon, let’s go downstairs where the light’s better, we’ll try something.” The other women were sitting around the fire, Jolene a book in her hand, Kennedy telling Peyton to get her sneakers off the sofa, Tiffany just looking into the fire. They looked up and over their shoulders at the girl in her pajamas and overly made up face, but no one said anything and Raquel felt her stomach twist.

While dinner was attempting to climb back up Raquel’s throat, Heidi had moved two of the dining room chairs to face each other and waved Raquel into one and took the other. She first made quick work of removing the make-up from Raquel’s face and then applied other stuff, muttering to herself. After what felt like it must have been hours, but couldn’t have been that long cause no one even had to go poke at the fire in that time, Heidi stood and took down Raquel’s hair.

For a long time, other than the soft murmur of conversation and the softer crackle-hiss of the fireplace, there was only Heidi’s competent hands, working on Raquel’s hair, twisting and twining the strands.

“Okay, now, go to that mirror over there, and tell me you look like a freak.” Raquel, did as Heidi told her to. Her stomach still roiling and twisting. Jolene looked up from her book, an unreadable expression on her face and Raquel wondered if she was actually going to make it to the mirror-and the bowl under it before she threw up.

“Oh…” Raquel said when she did see her reflection. Maybe she still wasn’t as pretty as some of the others, but-no. She definitely didn’t look like a freak.

“Is that a good oh or a bad one?” Heidi teased.

“Thank you.” Raquel said, hurrying back over to where Heidi stood and giving the other woman a hug. “Can you do it again?”

“Anytime.” Heidi patted her back.

—

Heidi might have meant that, but Raquel didn’t want to press her luck. Still, the next day, while she was waiting for lunch, cause Blake was supposed to be coming for lunch, she tried something a little different with her make-up and hair. But somehow, once she caught sight of Blake coming in the gate, all of her confidence fled her, and she rushed out to see him, burying her face in his chest.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. She shook her head. She couldn’t tell him. what if he didn’t understand-or worse yet, what if he agreed. He tipped her face up to look at him. But that was the chicken way out…

“Don’t.” She found herself murmuring. Puzzlement crossed the young carpenter’s face. “I wanted to look-pretty-you know-for the wedding, but I can’t. I can’t be the kind of lady you should be with.”

“Raquel, I love you. I don’t care if you want to show up to the wedding in a sack or-or like that singer you always tell me about, the one who dresses so oddly. Whatever you want to wear, however you want to wear your hair or your cosmetics. Love, I don’t care how you look when you show up to the wedding, as long as you show up.” He said, pulling her into a hug.

“You deserve someone better.” She said, starting to try and pull away.

“Impossible.” He murmured in her hair, tightening his hold on her.

“How’s that impossible.”

“‘Cause there isn’t anyone better, not here, not anywhere.”