His fingers tightened on my arm as he started dragging me into the shop.
“I have money,” I blurted. “I can pay, obviously.”
We stepped inside the dim, cramped space that smelled of leather and musty cloth. Swathes of fabric covered every inch of wall space, glimmering in the candlelight. Material shifted between soft hues as he led me deeper, towards a wide wooden workbench with a half-sewn shirt crumpled on its surface.
Caom turned to face me with a frown tugging at his blond brows. “Where did you get money from?”
I cleared my throat awkwardly. “The Carlin. She… wants me to have new clothes for the dinner.”
His face cleared. “Oh, sothat’swhy Prince Lonan was talking to you. He delivered it, I’m guessing?”
I nodded, not voicing the fact that he’d actually delivered it directly to the cottage that morning. He’d just reappeared when that fae was trying to trick me.
“Have you thought about what colours you’d like?” Caom was running long fingers over thick bolts of fabric. “Something warm to match your colouring, I think. Ooh!”
He heaved out a bolt of leather that glimmered like gold. “How about this?”
The blood drained from my face. I was absolutely not wearing gold leather trousers.
“No,” I said quickly. “Not that. Just… I like the dark green ones you gave me.”
He made a face. “Yes, but… they’re not veryformal.They’re more like workers’ clothes. What about black, then? It’s what her sons favour. She’ll take it as a compliment that you’ve tried to emulate them.”
I didn’t want to look like I was trying to suck up, but I was worried about what the other options would be if I refused black.
“Black’s fine.”
“Maybe a gold shirt then?” Caom said hopefully, peering back at me as he heaved a bolt of black leather from the wall.
I gave him a look that made him laugh.
“Alright. How about a green shirt then? Forest green, like the trousers you like?”
“Sure.”
I would’ve preferred plain white or cream, but green was better than the shiny, glimmering purple I could see Caom eyeing longingly.
He leaned the bolt of leather against the side of the workbench with a grunt, then straightened up and placed his hands on his hips.
“There might be a pair of black trousers already made somewhere in here.” He started rummaging behind the workbench. “I made them for Belial, but he won’t mind waiting a bit longer.”
He straightened back up with a triumphant smile, holding a pair of plain black leather trousers aloft.
“Try them on, to make sure they fit,” he said, holding them out to me.
I took them hesitantly, glancing round the small shop.
“There’s a fitting room.” Caom walked to the side of the room and pulled back a heavy curtain, revealing a small space lit by a narrow skylight in the ceiling. “Sorry it’s cold. A puca smashed the skylight trying to get in the other night to steal shoes. Little fucker.”
“Okay,” I said nervously, clutching the trousers and my bag of seeds as I walked into the tiny area.
Caom closed the curtain behind me, and I heard him retreat back to the workbench, but I didn’t move for a minute.
I really did not want to take my trousers off when the Folk were milling about so close. I wasn’t wearing any freaking underwear. Part of me wanted to ask Caom to make me some, but… no. He’d probably insist that he had to take mymeasurementsto do it.
Leather was not easy to get off in a hurry. I was pink in the face by the time I managed to pull them over my feet, and I wondered what Caom would do with the new black ones if they didn’t actually fit. Like I’d said… no underwear. Surely he wouldn’t still give these to Belial once my bare junk had been inside them?
Luckily, they fit perfectly. There was no mirror for me to look at myself, but it wasn’t like I had other options besides leather trousers. It was what all the Folk seemed to wear.