Of all the ways she imagined her first meeting with him going, it never occurred to her that he wouldn’t even know she existed. Thoughts of his rejection had crossed her mind, but not because he didn’t understand the details of their parents’ agreement.
And certainly not because he had no idea he was even betrothed.
Does he understand Mother won’t be able to maintain the heartbinding forever? And if he doesn’t bind with Elowyn, he’ll die when Mother does? Mother certainly won’t let go of the magic until she’s drained her own life keeping Prince Rominy alive. Of that, Elowyn has no doubt.
Not that Elowyn is keen on her future binding partner choosing to bind with her simply because the alternative is death.
“I’ll do it.” Prince Rominy looks at the cobblestones beneath his heavy black boots. Then he turns his gaze toward Elowyn’s mother. “I owe my existence to you, YourMajesty. May your gift to me and my people mark an age of peace between our kingdoms.” The prince inclines his head, and Mother nods in return as relief flows through Elowyn.
“And you, my young princess.” Pera looks at Prince Rominy’s sister. “This is not what you were expecting, but there is something to be said for binding with a second son rather than a future king. Cerian has more freedom to come and go as he pleases than Tharios does. According to our treaty, you will make your home in Lostariel, but I see no reason you can’t visit your family frequently. And Cerian will be happy to travel at your side.”
Elowyn glances at Cerian. His expression is hard and unchanging. Pera may be painting Cerian’s happiness a bit more broadly than is warranted.
“Oh,” Princess Arisanna says. “I mean, of course, Your Majesty. I am honored to wed your son Cerian if it will further peace between our kingdoms.”
She offers a slight curtsy and dip of her head, and Elowyn would bet her last coin that the princess has been well-trained in her role. At least she was expecting to bind with an elf tomorrow, unlike her brother.
“Are we all satisfied with this arrangement?” Pera turns to the human king and queen.
They look quite a bit less than satisfied, but neither argues.
“Of course, Lorial,” King Gerault says. “I trust this misunderstanding has not put a damper on our desire for peace.”
“As do I,” Pera says.
“A train waits to transport us to Levina,” the human king says. “Your horses will be well cared for here while you are parted.”
Pera nods, and Elowyn sucks in her cheeks to hold back a grin at Cerian’s dismay. She has no plans to let her brother’s dark mood dampen her own excitement at riding on one of these human trains.
With a kiss to Starlight’s nose and a pat of her neck, Elowyn hands the reins to a waiting groom.
“This way, Your Majesty,” Prince Rominy says to Pera as he glances uncertainly at Elowyn before looking away.
Biting her lip to contain her glee, Elowyn happily follows the young prince to the locomotive waiting for them.
Hopefully, the rest of the day will pass without issue.
Cerianeyesthenoisy,smelly metal behemoth with unveiled disgust.
“You can do this,” Father says near his ear, and reluctantly, Cerian steps from the wooden platform to the train car behind Mother, Tharios, and Viala. It feels unsteady beneath his feet.
Of course, Elowyn is ecstatic. She climbed aboard behind her human prince without a moment’s hesitation. It’s a good thing she’s the one moving to Nunia and not him.
Though Father just promised the human princess plentiful visits in the future. If Cerian didn’t know better, he’d think Father did it to spite him.
Father wouldn’t do that, though. And Princess Arisanna is the one leaving everything behind. It wasn’t an unreasonable thing for Father to offer, especially since Cerian loves to wander beyond the confines of Darlei and Celesta, and Father knows it.
He just prefers to travel alone as the mood strikes. In the woods. Not on a human locomotive.
The train car is well appointed for a traveling tube of metal. Padded seats face each other in groups of four on both sides of a center aisle. Velvet lines the cushionsand the walls, and brocade curtains flutter in the open windows, letting in the suffocating odor of burning coal.
Princess Arisanna lowers herself to an open seat nearby, and Father taps Cerian’s shoulder and gestures him toward her.
“You have agreed to do this, Cerian. I recommend you try to have a good attitude about it. For all our sakes.”
With a barely concealed huff, Cerian follows his father’s suggestion and lowers himself to the seat facing the princess. Hopefully, someone else will sit with them so Cerian won’t need to do more than offer polite niceties.
Of course, he is binding with the princess tomorrow. He’ll have to talk to her eventually.
