Fortune Favors the Cruel - Kel Carpenter Page 0,56

past.

“Modesty is for the privileged. When you’re a slave, not even your body is your own anymore. Clothes are gifts, not rights.” Her lips pinched together as memories welled up. Ones she still was not ready to think about, or to face. “My skin is a roadmap of where I have been and what I have done to survive. I won’t be ashamed of it.”

Lorraine regarded her differently in that moment. Not condemning or with exasperation, as she often did, but as if she saw Quinn in a new, changed light. A kinder one than the young N’skari woman would paint herself in.

A cough at the mouth of the cave drew their attention. Quinn got to her feet and looked over as the woman from earlier—the one who laid splayed across Thorne’s lap—stood by herself. She shivered when Quinn gazed at her with her cold eyes.

“My husband thought you might like warmer clothes,” she called out, her Norcastan tongue far less broken than that of the warriors they’d encountered, but not so good as the man who ruled like a king. “They are gifts of friendship,” she added.

Quinn watched her take a few steps in and lay the bundles of fur on a dry patch of the cavern floor. She looked at Quinn, admiring her form for a moment before smiling and walking away.

Quinn took a step towards the pile when Lorraine asked, “What are you doing?”

She hooked her thumb towards the pile. “Taking a look at our ‘gifts’.” Lorraine eyed the pile from the warm water of the spring while Quinn padded over, lifting up the scraps of fur. One was a slim looking top made of leather straps and scraps of fur that would cover her breasts but not her stomach or arms. Lorraine made a sound of dismay behind her which meant she wouldn’t be wearing it.

Quinn fitted it to her breasts, slipping the line of trim over her head and hooking the second behind her back with the clever metal clasp they put on it. She leaned over, humming in content at the way her breasts stayed secure to her chest and warm while she could still move. Digging through the pile, she found undergarments, a second top, and two pairs of trousers lined with fur. Dressing quickly, she pulled on the smaller pair of pants, shucking her legs through the ankles. The fit was a bit tight, resulting in pants that fell just below her navel and were glued to her backside. She squatted down, stretching the material so she could move more easily.

“Master Lazarus will not approve,” Lorraine said from the spring as she shook her head. Her thin lips pressed together in distaste, and Quinn only smiled as she reached down for one of the cloaks and clasped it around her shoulders.

“Master Lazarus,” Quinn started, exaggerating his title to the point of mockery, “is the reason we’re here and I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to wear the same clothes I’ve been wearing for the last week. Besides, it would be rude to not accept ‘gifts of friendship’.” She smiled and it was a vicious, wicked grin that it had Lorraine giving her a deadpanned glare to showcase her lack of amusement. “What would the people think?” she asked, unable to hide the glee in her voice to use Lorraine’s own words from these last two weeks against her.

“Some days I wonder what he sees in you,” Lorraine muttered as she lifted herself out of the spring. Despite her older age and temperament, she still had the body of a younger woman. Her skin was firm, healthy, and relatively unmarred from the malice of the world.

“Power,” Quinn answered her simply. Lorraine paused. “Dark, terrible, savage power. That’s what he sees.” The other woman did well to try and hide her shudder, but Quinn felt that slight quivering of fear. It slid over Quinn’s skin like a lover’s kiss, begging for more. Lorraine wrung out her long brown hair and dressed in the second set of gifted clothing. Her shorter stature made the pants looser and they actually came up to the top fur covering instead of leaving a few inches of skin on display. She took the second cloak and pulled it tight, gathering up their dirty clothes before turning to Quinn, ready to leave.

It was only then that she responded. “That’s not all he sees.”

Quinn frowned and opened her mouth to ask her what she meant by that, but