Thymara awoke with Rapskal’s arm and one leg thrown across her body. He awakened at the same moment and tried to embrace her. “No,” she said, not harshly, and moved apart from him. He made a wry face but let her go. Trepidation had chilled her ardor. Was it guilt for breaking her father’s rules for her or fear of pregnancy? Gray dawn had invaded the room and in its light, everything seemed to take on a different perspective. She could recall only too clearly what she had done last night; what she could not fathom was why she had done it. She remembered how she had felt, beautiful and desirable, and oddly powerful because of that. But how could that have overridden every scrap of her common sense?

The room was comfortably warm, even in her bare skin, but she didn’t feel comfortable parading around naked. Her worn tunic looked less appealing than it ever had. Feeling like a spy and a thief, she made her way to the closet and selected one of the folded Elderling robes. It was silver and blue when she shook it out, shimmering between the two colors. She slipped it over her head and thrust her arms out of the sleeves. It had been made for someone larger than she was, and that was good in at least one aspect. There was plenty of room for her folded wings. She turned back the cuffs of the sleeves and then hiked up the length. Looking hopefully in the closet, she found sashes or scarves on a row of hooks. She took one and belted up the robe so that she could walk. When she rolled her shoulders, the fabric adjusted easily to the bulk of her wings.

“There are shoes, too,” Rapskal reminded her.

Thymara looked over her shoulder. He was propped up on one elbow, unabashedly watching her dress. She looked away from the admiration in his eyes. A blush warmed her face. Embarrassment, or pride that he would like looking at her? She could not say. Stooping down, she found the footwear. She chose a blue pair and pulled them on over her feet, wondering if they would fit. The scaly fabric adjusted, finding her heel and taking the shape of her foot. When she smoothed them around her ankles and lower calves, they hugged her legs and stayed in place. Clothing that fit her changing body, clean warm clothing. Such a simple thing, and so miraculous.

“Choose one for me,” Rapskal suggested.

“A woman’s robe?”

He shrugged his bare shoulders. “In my time in the dream stone, I saw Elderling workers all wearing these sorts of robes. Men and women. Some of the robes were shorter, with trousers underneath. My clothes are in rags, and I really don’t care who wore those robes last.”