Chapter 21

Nerys POV
Nerys had spent the night tossing and turning in her quarters, settled into a fitful rest. It had been a struggle for the woman to resist visiting their company's room. Sleep had eluded her, for a while, until she had finally ended laying staring up at the ceiling blankly. She'd already arranged for a breakfast of various eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, and other breakfast foods, to be sent directly to her quarters just as day broke.
Given Nerys' lack of steady sleep, she was immediately roused from her bed as a soft knock came from the door. The servants knew better than to enter her room without announcing themselves, and usually they would just leave whatever she had requested outside of it after knocking; left for Nerys to retrieve herself. It was a system they had all settled into comfortably within the first month of her stay in Winterbridge.
With a strangled groan, Nerys dragged herself from the mess of covers she had ended up twisted in. She left them in a pile on the floor. One maid or another would make her bed after she left the room. Stepping over them, Nerys opened the door just enough to pull the cart of steaming food and accompanying baskets into the room. She left them by the door, moving to fling open her wardrobe.
Gowns upon gowns were hung inside, along with bodices, corsets, cloaks, and longer travel shirts. Tucked into a drawer, she had leather pants, and all undergarments she might need. Bronwyn had insisted upon outfitting Nerys' entire wardrobe during her stay, and tried to make sure that Nerys wouldn't be in gowns and dresses for her entire stay. Nerys only dressed in the gowns when she was looking for approval from her family or Bronwyn, and preferred the travel clothes to anything else in her closet.
Nerys stared at some of the showy gowns with disdain before she settled on a dark green travel shirt with brown undertones, long sleevee, and laces at the neckline plunging into a soft Vee. She slipped the shirt over her bare skin, and pulled out a tan corset to slide atop it. The laces to the corset were set in the back, so Nerys tied it in front of her then twisted it around so it was facing the proper direction. She also pulled out a pair of dark leather pants, a green so dark it almost looked black. There were no laces to the pants, the dwarves had crafted her buttons in the top for convenience.
A pair of cashmere tan socks that one of the maids had knitted her and tan, soft leather knee high boots completed her outfit. Out of all her shoes, the boots were one of the few pairs without a heel. After Nerys had settled on what the rest of her outfit would be, she took a trip to the washroom, relieving herself and washing her face before she applied some liner to her eyes and a soft pink gloss to her lips. Some of the demi-fae occasionally came to Winterbridge to trade, and Nerys had given them some shells for the makeup.
When Nerys had finished her bathroom routine, she slid the rest of her clothes and her shoes on. With a smile, she inspected the breakfast feast that she'd requested, and arranged the food nearly into the baskets. She sat the now full baskets on the bottom of the cart. Nerys then organized the pitcher of steaming water, kettle of hot coffee, dish of sugar cubes, and smaller pitcher of cream atop the tray. She breathed in the aroma of all the food and delicious drinks, letting out a pleased sigh. Now, all she would need to do would be take a detour to the garden and arrange a bouquet, then deliver the cart to the room Wynne and Arandir had been settled into.
Nerys' trip to the gardens was relatively quick. She had spent enough time occupying the gardens to know where everything was. She arranged a bouquet of lavender, geraniums, orchids, and sweet pea flowers to rest among the drinks on the tray. All flowers that had a tendency to bring an air of peace to any room. She hoped that they would be well received. The room that Wynne and Arandir had been situated in was on the opposite side of the castle from her own. The gardens were in between the two rooms. Bronwyn kept them distant from Nerys, likely worried about her safety. The thought made her smile, fiery orange hues twinkling.
She pushed the cart through the halls, nodding quietly at the servants she passed by. Finally, Nerys found herself outside the grand carved wooden door of their room. The leather and teakwood and seaweed and rose smells were strong outside the room, and would only increase when she was finally in front of the two. With a heavy sigh, breathing the two unique scents deeply, Nerys hesitantly raised her fist and rapped upon the wood.
Arandir POV
Arandir had woken first from the sound of knocking at the door. Slowly, he untagled himself from Wynne to slide off the bed. She had flung her arm over him, her legs wrapped around his own. Arandir had to make a strategic retreat from the bed, to be able to answer the door without waking her. In the short time they'd spent together, Arandir knew his mate had a temper like a firecracker, and he had no wish to face that wrath if she was awakened early. He ruffled his hair, yawning softly as her tiptoed through the room. The soft knock sounded again, just as Arandir had made it to the solid wood. He pulled it open slowly, mouth open to make a snooty remark to whatever servant had made him rise this early.
Instead, he was greeted by one of the most beautiful women he'd seen, with the exception of Wynne. A delicate vision of gossamer pink hair, and orange eyes bright like fire. Skin the colour of coffee and a splash of milk, pointed ears, and soft cheekbones. The sides of her neck and along her collarbone held a faint shimmer of blue scales, and Arandir found himself wondering if the scales were anywhere else. He shook his head to clear it, then realized that that smell of the sea, and of sweetgrass was wafting from the woman in front of him. Arandir didnt even notice the tray of food that she brought with her.
The man found himself staring at her with his mouth agape, opening and closing like a fish. He'd stood there in a stunned silence long enough, that the scent of the woman traveled passed him, to rouse Wynne from the bed. Her strawberry locks peeked out from over Arandir's shoulder, her body wrapped up in the doublet that they'd slept in. It was Wynne that broke the silence first. "Who are you?" She asked quietly, her voice musical to the ears of both the other two present.
Arandir stepped aside, letting Wynne come forward and look at their visitor as he had. His arm wrapped loosely around her waist, as he patiently let Wynne steer the conversation. He hadnt the faintest clue who'd visited them either. And he was prone to confrontation in times of even mild stress. Confrontation wouldn't be the way to solve this mystery.