“Hmm?” I feigned ignorance of her meaning.
She struggled with the yards of fabric to sit up and face me. “How do you feel about Arkyn not showing?”
I lifted a shoulder as nonchalantly as I could. “It doesn’t change anything. It’s still happening.”
“I know, but it’s rude, don’t you think?”
I rolled my eyes. “He hasn’t hurt my feelings if that’s what you mean. I’d have to care for that to be possible.”
Then she rolled her eyes back. “Yes, yes, you don’t care, we get it. But Caly, it’s just disrespectful to not bother showing up to collect your future wife! I’m so sorry he did that to you. You must be furious.”
“Oh, I’m mad alright, but I don't think I’d be any less so if he were standing here now. This whole thing is a complete and utter lack of respect for you and I as fae. But it’s not limited to Arkyn. It’s our father, the King, the ancestors before them who thought of future generations as little more than livestock to be bargained and exchanged. I hate the lot of them. So whether the prince could be bothered to show his face here or not, I would have no respect for this union.”
Her face fell, and I knew I’d taken my rant too far. I grasped her hand in mine. “That’s not to say you shouldn’t find some light in all this if you can. If you can find happiness with Alaric, then I will be thrilled for you. Even if that is simply in the form of mutual respect and friendship. I will never belittle your union as long as you are able to assure me it’s meeting your needs.”
“You don’t have to say that. I know it’s foolish of me to hope. It’s just that I have known this day was coming for so long, andI know it’s unavoidable, so I just wish to make the best of it if I can.”
I wrapped her in my arms, more clothing between us than any two fae need wear, and I held her to my chest, praying for her wish to come true. “And I’ll be there to support you, no matter what,” I whispered.
She lifted her head and offered me a wry smile. “I think you’ll have your hands full with your own marriage, but I swear we will always have each other. I know I couldn’t do this without you.”
We sat for a while, holding each other, just thinking about our futures and the uncertainty ahead. After some time, I felt her shake and pulled back to look at her, assuming she was crying. When her face came into view, I found laughter, not tears.
“What’s so funny?” I frowned.
“We look ridiculous!” she howled, hysteria setting in.
I began to chuckle. “We look like winter solstice decorations on top of over-frosted cakes.”
“We look like a dressmaker’s shop exploded,” she guffawed.
I clicked my nails together. “We look like the creatures they sculpt for the festival of Light,” I wheeze, referring to the costumes of mythical dragons they make for the parade through the Light Kingdom capital during the festivities, which are sparkly and extravagant and lit from the inside by magic.
“By the Goddess, you’re right.” She tossed the fabric of her skirts up in the air. “We can’t go to the feast like this. We will be a laughing stock.”
I groan. “I know, but it’s what they decided for us. We don’t have a choice.”
She looked at me with her all-knowing eyes. “Don’t we? You’ll be a Queen someday. I would think, if nothing else, you can decide your own wardrobe. I say let’s throw these costumes over the palace walls for the poor and wear what we look good in.”
I stared at her, hardly able to keep up with the switch between her almost babe-like eternal optimism and this devilish streak she seemed to keep hidden. Then I nodded, feeling the excitement of rebellion stirring within me. “Let’s do it.”
We locked the doors of my chambers and redid ourselves for dinner. The army of primpers knocked, and we told them to leave us alone. No one in the palace was happy with us, but Father was too caught up in having royalty in his home, and what could he do? We were officially being given over to the First Kingdom tonight, and we would no longer be his to punish, so we held firm.
We looked at ourselves in the full-length mirror of my dressing chambers with satisfaction later that day. If we had to be exchanged for supposed peace, at least we would look good doing it.
“Your prince will choke on his tongue when he sees you,” I told Nova.
She blushed. “It’s a pity yours won't see you tonight, he would too.”
For reasons I could not identify, my thoughts did not go to an image of my intended, who I could now at least visualize having met his twin. Instead, they went to the mysterious guard whose deep bronze eyes were burned into my memories. He’d never let his notice of me waver, and even now, his presence seemed to call to me, like I could feel his location within the palace walls, without being directed to him. I felt like if I let myself, I could simply float to him. That wasn’t normal, and it wasn’t good.
Why was I thinking about a guard when I was to marry the future king?
“We won’t be sitting together, of course,” Nova said, and I realized she had been talking while I fantasized about a male I should not have even noticed. “Wait! I don’t know how the seating will be arranged now that your prince is not present.They had us seated in couples on either side of the table, with Father at the head. It was perfectly symmetrical. They will have to rearrange it now, perhaps move another member of the royal party into that seat? Gods, what a nuisance,” she babbled on, not noticing I was hardly listening.
I pursed my lips, and a shiver of anticipation ran down my spine. Somehow, I knew he would be the one they seated next to me. There was no reason for it to be him. It could have been the general or his twin, or even his mate, but I just knew it wouldn’t be. The God of Light only knew why, and I was aware I sounded like Nova in my thinking, but I could sense it was His plan. And I wasn’t sure if I should be excited or apprehensive for the opportunity to finally speak to him.
NINE
