When he came back, he had two pairs of trousers—one made of brown leather and another pair made of soft, black suede.
“Will either of these suit?” he asked Roke.
“I don’t know. Do you have a fitting area where she can try them on?” the big warrior asked.
“But of course. Right this way,” the salesman said.
And that was how Elle found herself trying on trousers for the first time and thinking how extremely strange they felt. They came right up between her legs and the seams rubbed her secret spot in a way that made her wiggle her hips in embarrassment. She wondered how males stood wearing them all the time—especially if the seams rubbed against their shafts the same way. She wondered if Roke was bothered by the tightness of his own trousers—his shaft certainly looked big enough to—
Stop it, Elli! she scolded herself fiercely. Stop it right now—you can’t start thinking about him that way! You need to have only clean and pure thoughts in your head.
But until she was able to take a sip from the cup of Mortem Amore during her Shriving ceremony, it seemed the struggle to keep from thinking immoral thoughts was one she was unfortunately going to keep having.
“How do they feel?” Roke’s deep voice rumbled from the other side of the fitting room curtain.
“All right… I guess.” The salesman had given Elli a man’s shirt—sized small—to put on with the trousers. She tucked the hem of it in, as she’d seen other males wear their shirts. It was too tight across her generous breasts, but other than that it seemed to fit well enough. Taking a deep breath for courage, she came out so the big warrior could see her.
“Mmm…” he growled, nodding approvingly. “Yes. See, now these won’t get caught in a zorel’s foreclaws when you’re training them,” he remarked, nodding at the too-tight trousers. “Much safer than long skirts.”
“But not nearly as ladylike!” Elli protested.
“Too bad. We’ll take them,” he told the salesman. “And anymore you have like them in her size as well. Thank you.”
And that, it seemed, was that.
Fifteen
Elli’s stomach felt like it was full of flutterbyes as she and Roke made their way to the front gates of the Tenebrian palace that evening. She was wearing the gorgeous crimson gown and a pair of little satin slippers that matched it. Roke had insisted on buying her several pairs of shoes and boots to go with the dress and trousers and shirts he had purchased for her.
Roke himself was dressed in his usual black leather trousers and tall black boots, but he had purchased a Tenebrian style frock coat which fell to his mid thighs and cinched tight at the waist. The royal blue velvet seemed to bring out the blue in his eyes and emphasize the width of his broad shoulders. The elegant silver lace at his cuffs and collar made him look like a dashing figure out of a romance vid, Elli thought. She just hoped the two of them looked good enough to be presented at the Tenebrian Court.
The entrance to the palace was watched by two Tenebrian guards wearing elaborate uniforms with lots of gold braid, who were stationed on either side of the closed gate. Each one was standing at attention under a little roof of sorts, which stuck out from the side of the palace wall and sheltered them from the sun—or maybe the rain Elli thought, remembering what Tully had said about Tenebrians hating rainy weather.
“Halt foreigners—why are you here and what business do you have in the Tenebrian Court?” the first guard asked, frowning at them as they approached.
“Lady Ellilah and her Heart’s Companion, Roke, here at the bequest of the Duke of the Closewilde Lands,” Roke said sharply. “We are here to attend the Formal Introduction Ceremony. I suggest you let us in before His Grace becomes displeased.”
The first guard consulted a handwritten list on a scroll of parchment and nodded his head, his plumed helmet bobbing.
“Yes, your names are here. You may proceed.”
He made a motion to the other guard who pulled a lever set into the side of the high palace wall, which glittered in the light of the setting sun.
With a creaking groan, the metal portcullis which guarded the front archway began to rise, until at last the spikes were high enough that they wouldn’t even brush the top of Roke’s head as they passed beneath.
“Enter, at the bequest of the Duke of the Closewild Lands,” the first guard intoned, nodding at the raised portcullis. “But remember that you must obey all the rules and customs of the Tenebrian people whilst you visit with us. For here, within the palace walls, we are no longer on Pok, but on Mother Tenebria.”
“Yes, of course.” Roke nodded and extended an arm to Elli. “Shall we?”