“Would you really want to marry a man of Saint Lazaro?”
“Not normally, but with a worth of twenty thousand citrine rounds, I’m starting to change my mind. Is that the running salary for any man of the church?”
“With a face like that, he could be worth a single chip and I’d still take my chances.”
“He seeks a fae bride. That’s hardly fair.”
A giggle. “I could pretend I’ve got fae blood.”
I frown. Something tells me either the brotherhood has begun fabricating Brother Billius’ assets, or the sign isn’t about him at all. I draw closer, peering between the women’s skirts. The crowd is so focused on the sign, none of them notice I’m there.
Which would make for a decent opportunity to add a few trinkets to my satchel…
I assess the girls with fresh eyes, looking for hair clips, bracelets, necklaces. Finally, I spot a lazily held purse slung over a lady’s wrist. She’s so enraptured with the gossip that I doubt she’d notice if I tapped her on the shoulder and asked her to hand it over. I won’t of course. Instead, I just need to brush by and—
A corner of the sign catches my eye, halting me in my place. “What in the name of the shells…” I shoulder my way between two women and stare at the photograph.
Podaxis lifts the flap of my satchel to look as well. “Oh my, that’s…that’s…”
“Yep.” My gaze locks on the black-and-white portrait. I recognize the square jaw, the high cheekbones, full lips, dark hair. The only unfamiliar features in the photograph are the dazzling dark eyes that had been hiding behind closed eyelids on the beach.
Next to the portrait, the sign proclaims,Who Wants to Marry Brother Dorian? Prize: Eternal salvation and marital bliss. Worth: Twenty thousand citrine rounds per annum. Eligibility: must be of fae blood.
Heat floods my cheeks as every inch of me prickles with irritation. With a huff, I stomp around the still-chattering crowd. “Well, he seems to be getting along just fine.”
“Why do you seem annoyed about that?” Podaxis asks.
I open my mouth but realize I don’t know the answer. Why am I so bothered by seeing the boy I rescued on a sign?
When I don’t reply, Podaxis speaks again. “Didn’t you want to see that he’s alive and well?”
I fumble for words before I find ones that aren’t too much of a lie. “Sure, I did, but he took poor Brother Billius’ place in the pageant! His bridal competition never even began.”
“Those contests have become quite the popular spectacle around here, haven’t they? Is that the newest trend in Lumenas? Marrying a stranger and making a big production of it?”
I don’t answer because I have additional questions of my own. “Why does he insist on marrying someone of fae blood? Doesn’t Saint Lazaro’s brotherhood hate the fae?”
“They certainly have a reputation for it,” Podaxis says. “Although, there is one reason he could desire such a match. Have you heard about the latest scientific findings on human aging in Faerwyvae?”
“What findings?” I ask as we turn the corner on First.
“Well,” he says, taking on a tone that makes him sound like more of a know-it-all than he already is, “studies have shown that—ever since the end of the war and unification of the isle—humans who are in close relationships with the fae experience a slow in aging. It could possibly make them ageless like us. Of course, the isle has only been unified for twenty-two years and human-fae relationships are still taboo to some. So it’s impossible to know just how long their lifespans will increase, but it is certain that being in a relationship with a fae brings that particular benefit to a human.”
I snort a laugh. “How do you know about that? Better yet, why do you clearly have this fact memorized like you’re just waiting for the chance to recite it?” Realization quickly dawns. “Shells, Podaxis, you’re saving this information for Nadia, aren’t you? Is this what you’re prepared to tell her when you profess your undying affection?”
“You are…well, you are just…rude. I wouldn’t come to Nadia with facts and figures, should I ever speak aloud my intentions. I’d…it’s none of your business. I read it in the broadsheets and thought you’d want to know.”
I can tell I’ve embarrassed him but it’s impossible to stifle my laughter. When I do manage to sober from my amusement, I’m left to ponder the truth of what he said. If humans have experienced a slow in aging ever since the end of the war, I wonder if it also explains how I aged so quickly. Unlike my brothers, who didn’t reach maturity until they were a few centuries old, I reached it in less than two decades. I aged…like a human. Since fae don’t conceive as often or as easily as humans do, not to mention my rather sheltered childhood, I haven’t met many other full-blood fae who were born after the isle was unified. Except for Podaxis, of course. He too aged like I did.
I suppose it makes a strange sort of sense. Humans began affecting the fae from the moment they set foot on our isle thousands of years ago. Back then, all fae were what we now call unseelie. Spirits, animals, creatures. It wasn’t until humans taught us language and began sharing clothing and food that my kind learned to adopt their ways. That’s when we figured out how to shift, adopting a seelie form that mimicked humankind. Now that humans and fae live together, kept safe and protected by our magic-infused barrier, it makes sense that we would begin to changeeach other.
That doesn’t make me any less annoyed about this so-called Brother Dorian. The nerve of him to survive a shipwreck only to put on a bridal pageant in search of a fae wife. Was his brush with death enough to make him desperate for the chance at immortality that a fae bride would bring?
Despite my grating agitation, it does make one thing clear. “You know, I think this is a good thing,” I tell Podaxis. “It means you were wrong about him. He’s not a fugitive. He’s a brother of Saint Lazaro and has clearly been a citizen this whole time. I bet he just didn’t want to deal with the legal process of crossing the border in the middle of the night.”
“Then why was he out at sea?”
The question sinks some of my conviction, but I shrug off my suspicion. “A mission trip, obviously. He was spreading the good word.”
