Shit! I didn’t want to go to the Gales with a pissed off Frey. I didn’t want to go anywhere with a pissed off Frey.
So before we made it to the footmen, I pulled back slightly on his elbow and slowed my step. He looked down at me, brows drawn and I saw on Frey’s scale of one to ten of how angry he could be, he was resting, my guess, at around a two.
This was good.
“Can I have a second?” I asked softly, he stopped us, looked to the stairs then back at me before he turned toward me.
“Finnie, the Gales started nearly two hours ago,” he reminded me.
“I know but…” I moved closer to him and tipped my head back further, “I just wanted to apologize before we got there for being late and making you wait and –”
I stopped talking when his hand lifted and curled around my neck and his expression instantly changed to show that my apology made him totally drop off the angry scale.
Phew. This was also good.
Then he stated, “Wee one, it was me who made us late, why are you apologizing?”
“You seem angry,” I told him.
“I’m not angry about waiting,” he told me.
“Are you angry at all?” I asked.
“No,” Frey answered, I peered closer at him and saw this was true.
Still, I could have sworn I saw it earlier.
Therefore, I informed him, “You looked angry a second ago.”
“I wasn’t angry,” he replied.
Well, he was something and, by the by, he hadn’t commented on my fabulous dress and that was not Frey. Three days ago, when I’d walked up to him talking with Thad and Oleg while wearing a silvery white wool gown that was sweet, but wasn’t close to my best, he’d told me right in front of his men that I looked lovely then he’d swiftly finished his talk with the guys, took me to our rooms and took it off me.
Therefore, I stated, “You were something.”
He sighed then said, “Finnie, we must –”
My eyes narrowed on his, which I could see, just barely, but I could see were hiding something and I leaned closer, cutting him off as it hit me. “You’re hiding something.”
“Finnie –”
“What?”
“Fin –”
I put a hand on his chest, got up on the toes of my red satin, jet-beaded-pointed-toed slippers and asked, “What’s upset you, Frey?”
He kept hold of my eyes. Then he dipped his face closer to me.
Then he said, “You wear the colors of Drakkar.”
I blinked. Then I asked, “What?”
He didn’t repeat himself. Instead he replied, “I was wrong when I told you I didn’t have a favorite color. My favorite colors are your colors.” I blinked as my heart skipped a beat and Frey continued, “I prefer you in your whites, your silvers, your grays and definitely your blues.” I stared, thinking he really paid attention at the same time my belly got really warm at his words then he kept talking. “What I do not like to see you in is the red of Drakkar.”
My belly grew instantly cold, I rolled back to the soles of my feet, surprised and, I had to admit, dejected.
“I wore this for you,” I whispered. “Mother said –”