Alissa crossed her arms, the thought of leaving her weapons twisting in her gut—without them, she’d be completely vulnerable, and that terrified her.
“Okay then, do as you wish. But if I’m given the chance, know that I will sell you both to the first alcohol-smelling pervert who offers me five silver coins.” He stomped his feet toward the town entrance.
Alissa held his wrist, and he came to a halt before reaching the gates. “If what you say is true, then how come we can look intoyoureyes?”
He rolled his eyes impatiently. “Because I’m not a savage, Kriegen.” He sighed. “Look… just trust me, and you’ll see.”
Alissa glanced at Freyah, and she understood her nod as a plea to comply. Alissa had a harder time trusting people than her warm-hearted friend; even when Eldric had no motive to trick her into this, her mind tended to do a good job of convincing her otherwise.
“Okay, we’ll do as you say, but I’m keeping my dagger.”
“Fine,” Eldric grunted. “Don’t blame me afterward if anything goes sideways.”
Alissa noticed Eldric’s eyes scrutinizing, measuring her every inch from head to toe. At first, she thought it was the most pathetic attempt at flirting she had ever seen. But his glarewasn’t one of admiration; it was a look of disapproval. His gaze drifted to her clothes, still ragged all over from her sprint through the canyons.
He bit his lower lip and shook his head. “You can’t go inside wearing that.”
Alissa frowned, glancing down at herself. “What do you mean? This is good-quality clothing.”
“Not only are your clothes in tatters, but they’re also men’s clothing. Do you have a dress?” he asked, his face a portrait of boredom.
“This isnotmen’s clothing,” she declared.
“Do you have one or not?” Eldric asked in resignation, not much patience left at this point.
“I have an extra dress she can borrow,” Freyah interrupted, casting an outrageous look at her friend.
Eldric took the extra dress from Freyah’s hands and threw it in Alissa’s direction; the light-yellow dress fell on top of her head.
“Fix your hair, too,” he said, turning his back on her. “It looks terrible.”
Alissa murmured curses as she slipped the dress over her head.
Chapter 11
A Different Kind of Monster
Alissa walked into Porjea wearing Freyah’s light-yellow, flowered dress. It was the girliest dress she had ever seen, and though she looked lovely in it, the feeling was entirely foreign to her.
Unlike her friend, Alissa never wore dresses; it reminded her too much of her mother—the long hours Mrs. Kriegen spent sewing, the way young Alissa had marveled at her work, longing to keep every dress for herself. She would beg her mother not to sell them, with the hopes she could wear them when she grew up, but the answer was always the same:“These are not fit for your beauty, my love. When you’re grown, I will make you the most beautiful dresses Bryniard has ever seen.”
Of course, her mother died before that could become true. Since her mother’s passing, Alissa had never found the strength to wear a dress again. She told herself it was because they made hunting more difficult, which was partially true. But as she stood there now, wrapped in the soft fabric for the first time in years, she knew the real reason lay much deeper.
Now, while they strolled through Porjea’s alleys, she understood why Eldric wouldn’t let her come in wearing her trousers and tunic.
All women in the village wore long, thick dresses that covered every inch of their limbs, leaving only their faces visible and their hair styled in tight buns. The difference in the design of their dresses alone could set the women of Bryniard apart from the rest. Alissa had never felt so self-conscious about exposing her arms as she did at that moment when they attracted so many eyes. She wished she hadn’t left her cloak in the carriage. Their red and light-brown hairs cascading down their backs made them feel almost sinful.
Every one of the Porjean women was accompanied by a man. These women were perceived as objects, and therefore, their gazes were fixed to the floor in submission to their male companions. The sight made Alissa’s stomach turn. She made sure to stay close to Freyah and Eldric and keep her head down, not to accidentally look into a man’s eyes. She did not need to look up to sense the gazes of other men over them like a pack of wolves surrounding fresh meat, patiently waiting for them to slip up to attack.
“Stay close to me and keep looking down.” Eldric drew his arms over both of their shoulders in a protective manner.
Alissa felt secretly thankful for that, her bravery starting to waver as she saw herself surrounded by vicious men. Freyah trembled slightly on the other side.
Porjea was only a third the size of Bryniard and more archaic in its construction, making her hometown look very modern. The simplicity of the people was evident in the clay houses. Mountains and trees stood in the background, casting a convenient shadow over the establishments.
Their first stop was a shop so small that calling it a shop was of utmost generosity. It did serve the purpose, however, when they purchased more canned goods for their trip and apples for the black stud pulling their carriage. Lastly, they stopped at a tavern to purchase drinks for the ride.
As soon as the doors opened, the smell of alcohol flooded their nostrils. It reminded Alissa of Freyah’s days working at her family’s tavern and the many hours they had spent inside the barrels to escape Bryniard not so many days ago.