Tressa's Treasures (The King's Jewel Book 1) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Belinda M Gordon
impossible: a sad thing for a jewelry designer.
I went nowhere without wearing some kind of jewel or gemstone. This was an important part of what allowed me to live among these people without having them discover whom, or rather what, I was.
My glamour—the magic that kept all humans except the rare Sidhe Seer from seeing my faceted eyes, the sheen of my hair, my pearly skin, and the points on the end of my ears—was rooted in these luxurious blossoms of the earth.
Our code of laws, the Decree of the Ancients , required that we live anonymously among humans. This was more important for me than for most but with my love of jewelry and stones, living this way had never been an issue for me.
The big grandfather clock downstairs struck the hour; I was running late. I took one last look in the mirror and, satisfied, I slipped into my heels and rushed back to Mamó's house.
I went to the front entrance of the manor house this time, as befitting the more formal occasion. I rang the bell and waited patiently for Shamus.
I suppressed a smile when he opened the door. It took effort to avoid commenting on his appearance. His butler's suit was newly cleaned and starched. His coarse, reddish-brown hair was slicked back with an abundance of hair gel that succeeded in keeping all but the very ends flat to his head.
"Good Evening, Miss Tressa."
"Shamus," I nodded as I stepped inside.
I had started toward the formal living room to the left of the entrance when I heard Shamus clear his throat. I slowed, turning back to look at him.
"They are in the study, My Lady."
I gave him a chiding look. He knew not to address me formally as long as we were in the human world. However, that annoyance faded as I digested the rest of his words.
"In Móraí's study? And she has guests with her?"
My grandmother generally avoided going into my grandfather's study since he had passed away. I followed Shamus as he led me to the back of the house.
"Perhaps I should announce your arrival formally," he said. The twinkle in his eye told me he was goading me but the idea was appalling.
"Shamus, you wouldn't! No titles today."
"As you wish, My Lady," he said, grinning.
With a grand wave of his arm, he gestured for me to enter the room. He bowed slightly at the waist as I crossed in front of him.
The room looked dark and broody, lit only with a couple of lamps. At first, it appeared to be empty. Then I noticed a man there, standing with his back to me. He stood in front of the case that held my grandfather's large collection of gemstones and crystals.
I flipped the switch that turned on the lights inside the case to give Mamó's guest a better view of the stones. The light danced around my grandfather's collection, creating the feeling of movement and life.
The man turned toward me and our eyes met with mutual recognition. I sucked in my breath in surprise. I thought back over my conversation with my grandmother, to what she had said about her dinner guests. Surely this could not be the man to whom she had rented the guesthouse. This man was supposed to be on his way out of town.
To his credit, Sophia's father looked taken aback as well.
"You again! Surprised twice in one day," he said.
"You say that, and yet you're the one showing up at my place," I retorted.
He laughed aloud: a good, hearty sound.
"Fair enough," he said.
His breezy attitude calmed the nervous tizzy going on inside me. I remembered my role as host, joining him by the display case.
"This collection is a rock hound's dream," he said.
"Aye, my grandfather was quite the collector."
"Do you see that Pineapple Opal?" he said. He leaned closer to point to a stone made of a cluster of milky white opals, which did indeed resemble a pineapple. He smelled of earth and intoxicating spices.
"What a fantastic specimen," he said. "They're only found in the opal fields of the White Cliffs of New South Wales. They're very rare. Most of them have been cut up; they’re made of such
I went nowhere without wearing some kind of jewel or gemstone. This was an important part of what allowed me to live among these people without having them discover whom, or rather what, I was.
My glamour—the magic that kept all humans except the rare Sidhe Seer from seeing my faceted eyes, the sheen of my hair, my pearly skin, and the points on the end of my ears—was rooted in these luxurious blossoms of the earth.
Our code of laws, the Decree of the Ancients , required that we live anonymously among humans. This was more important for me than for most but with my love of jewelry and stones, living this way had never been an issue for me.
The big grandfather clock downstairs struck the hour; I was running late. I took one last look in the mirror and, satisfied, I slipped into my heels and rushed back to Mamó's house.
I went to the front entrance of the manor house this time, as befitting the more formal occasion. I rang the bell and waited patiently for Shamus.
I suppressed a smile when he opened the door. It took effort to avoid commenting on his appearance. His butler's suit was newly cleaned and starched. His coarse, reddish-brown hair was slicked back with an abundance of hair gel that succeeded in keeping all but the very ends flat to his head.
"Good Evening, Miss Tressa."
"Shamus," I nodded as I stepped inside.
I had started toward the formal living room to the left of the entrance when I heard Shamus clear his throat. I slowed, turning back to look at him.
"They are in the study, My Lady."
I gave him a chiding look. He knew not to address me formally as long as we were in the human world. However, that annoyance faded as I digested the rest of his words.
"In Móraí's study? And she has guests with her?"
My grandmother generally avoided going into my grandfather's study since he had passed away. I followed Shamus as he led me to the back of the house.
"Perhaps I should announce your arrival formally," he said. The twinkle in his eye told me he was goading me but the idea was appalling.
"Shamus, you wouldn't! No titles today."
"As you wish, My Lady," he said, grinning.
With a grand wave of his arm, he gestured for me to enter the room. He bowed slightly at the waist as I crossed in front of him.
The room looked dark and broody, lit only with a couple of lamps. At first, it appeared to be empty. Then I noticed a man there, standing with his back to me. He stood in front of the case that held my grandfather's large collection of gemstones and crystals.
I flipped the switch that turned on the lights inside the case to give Mamó's guest a better view of the stones. The light danced around my grandfather's collection, creating the feeling of movement and life.
The man turned toward me and our eyes met with mutual recognition. I sucked in my breath in surprise. I thought back over my conversation with my grandmother, to what she had said about her dinner guests. Surely this could not be the man to whom she had rented the guesthouse. This man was supposed to be on his way out of town.
To his credit, Sophia's father looked taken aback as well.
"You again! Surprised twice in one day," he said.
"You say that, and yet you're the one showing up at my place," I retorted.
He laughed aloud: a good, hearty sound.
"Fair enough," he said.
His breezy attitude calmed the nervous tizzy going on inside me. I remembered my role as host, joining him by the display case.
"This collection is a rock hound's dream," he said.
"Aye, my grandfather was quite the collector."
"Do you see that Pineapple Opal?" he said. He leaned closer to point to a stone made of a cluster of milky white opals, which did indeed resemble a pineapple. He smelled of earth and intoxicating spices.
"What a fantastic specimen," he said. "They're only found in the opal fields of the White Cliffs of New South Wales. They're very rare. Most of them have been cut up; they’re made of such