Between the Moon and Her Night (Between Life and Death #3)

Chapter 7

Aurelia

“W hat, in the name of the Ancient Ones, are you wearing?” Ezra asked as I stepped out of the carriage, championed by two mahogany-brown Clydesdale horses—their manes neatly braided, and trimmed hooves well-maintained.

An hour prior, I’d had plenty of time to study them as I peered out the window of the small room I was staying in at the Sitting Duck Inn, debating if I should go or not. Ezra had helped me on the boat, yes, and then she had offered me a salve to use if Death called in our deal and my skin began to rot, but ultimately, I did not know her. She was a whimsical goddess who danced on the current of mischief and wonder, elusive and hard to nail down.

Naturally, I had found myself wondering . . . was Ezra someone I could trust?

I decided there was only one way to find out, and that’s why I was here —

A twenty-minute carriage ride away from the city, tucked in a dense grove of caragana bushes and slender poplar trees, standing in front of a stone path that led up to a humble two-story home forged from a combination of brick and mortar. The steep roof was tiled, which was quite different from the thatch roofs I had seen back in the city.

Ezra caught my gaze, tracing it all the way to the roof, as if she were following some invisible line. “The tiles are made of ceramic. They don’t catch fire like the straw ones do.”

“Catch fire ?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.

“Well, when you are combining all sorts of potions, some tend to get a wee bit . . . explosive.” She giggled, her head swiveling back towards me. She batted a hand. “Anywho, never mind that. Let’s get back to what you are wearing.”

I glanced down, plucking at my white tunic, inspecting it. “Is this not what the mortals typically wear?”

“It is, but where we are going, you will look severely underdressed,” she said with a grin. She gestured to what she was wearing. It was a lovely little number, the body-length dress dyed a deep red. It clung to her body, fitting her in all the right places, emphasizing her femininity, while leaving some places left to be discovered. It reminded me of something a courtesan-turned-princess would wear—sultry yet refined. “You need to wear something like this.”

“It’s a lovely gown, but I own nothing of the sort,” I said, shrugging one shoulder.

When I left the Immortal Realm with hundreds of freed Demi Gods on the run, packing a bag hadn’t exactly been high on my priority list. So, all I had to my name was the clothes I was wearing and a few more that I’d left at the Sitting Duck Inn. The white gown I had donned when I arrived in Edenvale had been fashioned by my personal seamstress. I’d had it made a few days before I released the prisoners. The seamstress had given me a peculiar look when I told her what my vision was for the dress, as it was far from the stuffy, vice-grip gowns she was used to making for me—dresses that Aurelius liked to see me in. The sleek, white gown was glorious, yes, but once I spent a few days among the mortals, I realized that it made me stand out. And standing out didn’t exactly seem like a wise idea, all things considered. So, a few weeks back, I traded the sumptuous, luxurious silk for a few basic white tunics, two pairs of brown breeches, and a cloak.

“Then call me your fairy godmother because I’m about to expand your wardrobe.” Ezra gave me a wink. Spinning, she started for the house. “Come along, let’s find you something sexy to wear.”

I stood there, wondering if I had made a bad decision in coming here.

Sighing, I decided to embrace the moment and followed her inside.