“Don’t look at me like that,” he told Bayani, turning away.
“You mean the look that says, ‘what am I going to do with a boyfriend who reads about fantasy worlds and plays fantasy-style games, but then gets upset when he is taken to s real fantasy world’?”
“You just made an oxymoron,” Peter pointed out, hoping that it wouldn’t be too obvious that he was trying to change the subject.
“Sure, but being here is kind of a paradox, isn’t it? There are goblin, Peter. Not only that, but they said that there is a unicorn up north!”
Peter rolled his eyes and turned away, wishing that he had a book with him. Usually when Bayani annoyed him, he would retreat into one of his books, making him take it away so that they could talk again. “Unicorns are for little girls,” he grumbled.
“And kings, apparently,” Bayani told him. “Come on, you have to be at least a little bit happy to be away from it all.”
You know what,“ Peter began, trying not to sound like he was snapping, “most people who want to visit a fantasy world want to go when the peace is restored, not find themselves thrust into the middle of a dangerous plot of intrigue and treason.”
Bayani sighed and went next to him, taking his hand. “I guess I can’t argue with that. Look, they brought us some really nice clothes, so let’s get changed and go to breakfast. We should listen to what James has to say.”
Peter lookup up at him– Bayani was a few inches taller than he was– scowled, and then looked over at the clothes that the maid had brought by. There were a couple pairs of trousers, one of leather dyed to a fine shade of black, the other of earthy brown cotton woven into a smooth yet warm fabric. Peter grabbed the leather pants and went over to the windows to pull the curtains shut. He slid down the faded blacks jeans that he had trekked across the landscape in, relieved to at least have something clean to wear, and kicked them aside.
Bayani sat on the edge of the bed, still wearing the linen nightclothes that they had found set out for them the night before. It had been nice having something clean to wear to bed, although Peter had changed back into his own clothes as soon and he’d woken up to the morning light. He waited for Peter to pull the leather pants up over his legs and fasten the several buttons at the front– it seemed that Summerlay had not yet invented zippers, which only made sense for a magical world– and then tossed him the shirt of fine white silk.
Peter narrowed his eyes and almost refused to catch it. “Are you serious?”
“You’ll look great in it,” Bayani assured him. “Besides, I think the blue one is for me.” He held up the other shirt, more of a tunic, really, given its length. It had a coarser weave, and was dyed two shades of blue, one fading slowly into the other.
Peter’s face went into a full scowl. “I don’t like wearing white.”
Bayani shrugged. “Did you want the blue one?”
“No!” Peter looked down at the pure silk and sighed. It looked like it had never been worn before, so fresh was the ivory cloth, so smooth the pearlescent buttons. He grumbled and started to unfasten the top few buttons. Then her looked over at Bayani. “Turn around.”