Without a word, Cerian glides toward the door and opens it as Arisanna watches from the floor.
The two elves speak rapid Elvish in hushed tones, and Arisanna only catches parts of their conversation. Words like shame and impolite and guests and binding partners. Followed by softer tones as King Lorial asks if Cerian feels up to returning. There are words of affection as well.
She doesn’t hear Cerian’s response.
To be honest, she’s not in a hurry to return, either.
“We haven’t even cut the cake!” Mother’s voice carries throughout the corridor, and Arisanna sighs as she awkwardly pushes herself off the floor.
“There you are, Arisanna. When I told you to follow his lead, I meant after the wedding feast. Not in the middle of it! People are already whispering!”
Arisanna’s cheeks flush as Cerian turns horror-filled eyes toward her. Even King Lorial appears unusually flustered.
“Well, come on, then,” Mother continues. “The dancing moved on without you, unfortunately.”
More small mercies.
“Are you ready to go back?” Arisanna asks Cerian softly in Elvish so Mother won’t understand.
“Yes. Again, I beg your forgiveness. I should not have left.”
She shrugs. “I can’t really blame you. I didn’t mind the break.”
A smile teases Cerian’s face, and King Lorial’s calm demeanor returns.
“Thank you,” Cerian says in soft Nunian. Then he slowly exhales before offering his arm, much to her shock. She takes it as Mother ushers them forward.
Just a little more of this grand affair to endure.
Then they’ll be alone again. For better or for worse.
On That Note
Episode 12
Elowynwatchesinreliefwhen Pera returns with Cerian and Arisanna. Hushed whispers and knowing smiles flit throughout the banquet hall as people glance at Elowyn’s brother and new sister.
Elowyn ignores them all.
The truth is, Cerian ran.
Again.
All his life, that’s been his pattern. When something challenges his ability to cope, he disappears.
At least he didn’t run far this time. And he took Arisanna with him.
Or she followed him.
In any case, they ran together.
And now it’s time to cut the glorious cake servants just wheeled in on some kind of cart.
“It’s part of the tradition,” Rominy whispers in her ear. “The bride and groom cut the cake together...and feed a bite to each other with their fingers.” His face turns pink as he says it.
“I see. This sounds sticky. And delicious.”
Soon, the two couples stand on opposite sides of the cake, and someone hands Rominy a dull knife. There’s one for Cerian as well.
