Into the Otherworld by Kyra Whitton

Author:Kyra Whitton [Whitton, Kyra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, fantasy, fairy tales
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Published: 2018-05-17T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

It occurred to Flora that she didn’t know what had happened to those who had died in the Otherworld, until she had been told a feast day would take place in their honor. The commander himself sent an invitation with one of his aides, asking her to join him. She hadn’t been sure if she was supposed to respond, but she sent him a reply, anyway, thanking him for the invitation and assuring him she would be present.

The morning of the ceremony, she found Captain Evan Griffith waiting outside her door, ready to escort her to the general. He was garbed in ceremonial armor: a shining breastplate, gauntlets, boots, with chain mail and a red mantle. His head was still shaved smooth, and thick eyebrows stood out against his tanned flesh. Flora wondered how heavy the armor was but figured it was probably inappropriate to ask, even though the captain was often good-natured and willing to converse.

Eve and Iain dressed in remarkably similar ceremonial armor, polished and shining in the torchlight. Eve’s, of course, had a more feminine cut to it, and Iain still wore a hood half over his face, though Flora supposed the blue velvet at least made it appear to be a formal hood. Delyth’s own cloak covered her from head to toe in a rich green, but Flora never saw what she wore beneath.

Flora had agonized over what to wear to a funeral in the afterlife for far longer than she would care to admit to herself. She tried on nearly every item in her meager wardrobe twice, asking the opinions of her three companions each time. After the evening meal, and before she could force a third modeling session upon them once more, Iain shoved a bundle of folded clothes at her.

The gown was like nothing she had seen. The sleeves were long, the bodice tight, and the outer skirt had very little volume to it. A metallic waist cincher hit just below her breasts and ended just at the top of her hips. And from her hips hung a strange sash, almost like a belt, a sporran hanging from it. The sporran was fur, but silver ornaments decorated its underside, tinkling when she moved. Matching fur encircled her wrists and lined the outer skirt, the silver underskirt peeking through when she walked. In the low light of the castle, she had thought the gown to be gray, but as she walked out into the light, she could see it was a lovely shade of blue, like a thunderhead.

They were met in the main hall by the commander, who offered her his arm. He was also dressed in what she imagined was his finest armor, shining and silvery with a hound etched into the breastplate. A fur mantle covered his shoulders, and beneath it a cerulean cape fell to just below the knee. It was very formal, he was an escort, nothing more. Even still, her heart pounded against her breast, a quick tattoo that engulfed her.

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