Captured on Film (Songs of the Amaranthine Book 6) by Forthright

Author:Forthright [Forthright]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Twinkle Press
Published: 2021-03-03T18:30:00+00:00

Borrowed Clothes

Once he was alone, Caleb inspected the clothes Hesper had brought. He seriously doubted they were readymade. No label to hint at the size or country of origin, let alone the fabric content. He was no expert, but he was pretty sure the seams hadn’t been machine stitched. So who was the tailor?

Unlike the rough-looking tunics that Andor and Oaken wore, this one looked expensive. The cloth slipped over his head and settled against his skin like silk. Caleb didn’t think he was imagining the faint luminescence that was a dead giveaway that he was dealing with a figment. Had these people harvested thread from the figment-equivalent of the silkworm?

That, in itself, was plausible enough, but he couldn’t imagine someone as scruffy as Andor handling such a delicate task. But maybe he should investigate the rooms, see if he found anything resembling a loom.

The color, a pale gold, did adhere to the trend in Andor’s and Oaken’s wardrobes. Did they like the color on a personal level? Was the dye a local product? Or were all these honey hues important for another reason?

“Are you kidding me?” he muttered. No undergarments had been provided. Still, this was a far sight better than dragging around in a blanket.

His pants were a warm golden-brown, and the fit reminded him of athletic wear—stretchy and snug. But the cloth was far from flimsy. He scratched and prodded at it, curious what gave it so much toughness. Was it hide? Was it synthetic?

“Dressed?” Hesper leaned past the curtain that served as his door.

“More or less.” Caleb was grateful that the tunic fell to mid-thigh, preserving his modesty. Even so, he was highly self-conscious.

Hesper didn’t help. Giving him a long once-over, she said, “The tunic looks well with your hair.”

“It’s out of control,” he muttered, scratching at hair that was getting unruly.

She startled him by brushing her knuckles against the scruff that was an inevitable consequence of camping. “You usually shave?”

Caleb hadn’t really registered how tall Hesper was. He had to look up. “Y-yes.”

“Want me to clean you up?” She arched her brows. “My family’s last cover was a barber shop. I doubt I’ve lost my touch.”

“I thought you made mead.”

“We do. Privately.” Hesper shrugged. “We’ve always operated some kind of shop in our neighborhood.”

That surprised him on several levels. “You pass yourself off as human?”

“We have a few tricks to hide the most obvious differences. But yes, and we’re invested in our community.” She patted his cheek before stepping back. “I’m the sort of person who has lots of friends and knows all her neighbors.”

“I’m not.” He desperately missed his tiny, tidy apartment and the privacy it guaranteed. “Maybe just loan me a razor?”

“Ever shave with a straight edge?”

Caleb’s shoulders sagged in defeat.

Hesper took a coaxing tone. “We bears are big, and we can be formidable, but we’ve a light touch. I’ll be careful, and you’ll feel more yourself. Am I right?”

She was.

“We can wait until your brother’s awake. Moral support.” Hesper chuckled. “Set a good example, too.

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