“Yes, but-” I huffed. “Is he acreatureof some sort?”
“Acreature,Princess?”
“Yes. Amonster?”I asked.
“Physically?” he checked.
“Personally, but–Ishe ugly?” I asked. “You can tell me.”
“Is that what matters to you?” he asked. “After all this time, my efforts to ensure you were not so shallow, you–”
“No!” I said. “No! It’s not… It’s notimportantor anything. I just–Okay? Does he hate reading? Or children? Or does he practice the dark arts? Or, like,worshiptaxidermy?” I asked. “You cannot leave me withfine,Elías! My mind fills in the blanks of what you will not say!”
“Your priorities concern me,” he said. “Taxidermy?”
“It could be a hobby of his,” I explained. “But I shall be left to discoverthaton our honeymoon because you cannot elaborate beyondfineand choose to scold me for caring if he’s hideous. Many women would care!”
“I’ve heard nothing oftaxidermy,Princess. However, huntingisa beloved sport in Chalke. He does partake.”
“Hunting is not stuffing animal bodies for one’s pleasure; it’s… Well, it’s a beloved sport here, too, isn’t it?”
“I suppose.”
“You hunt,” I said. “Everyone hunts. There’s a whole day devoted to— Ugh! As it appears to me, you’ve heard nothing at all. No tales of his beauty or warm heart, nor rumors of the opposite. How will I know how bleak my prospects are, with so little as fine?”
“Perhaps ‘fine’ was not the appropriate word. If you’re so concerned about hispersonality,why have you not written him? You could’ve asked for character traits or even a portrait.”
I started a few times, trying to find a better response to his question, but I settled on a ragged“Oof!”and then asked, “Why would I write him to ask for a portrait?”
“Why not?” he asked.
“Because!” I said. “Because…” I fumbled for an excuse. “Because it’s rude. And if I did write the Prince, then he would have time to consider the words of his reply. I would not receive an honest impression of him. And the portrait is not important. It’s just my attempt to pry information out of you, but you’re sealed tighter than a bloody fortress.”
“Language, Svana,” he said. He paused. “Assuming His Highness is a liar, you’re right. But the Prince has an outstanding reputation.”
“MissHellveighad an outstanding reputation.”
Elías’s face clouded.
“As strict as she was beautiful.That’s what they said, and it was true. If strict meant cruel.”
He held back a comment, quickly departing from the subject. “And what if the Prince is wondering ifyou’rea creature? Or the silly sort of girl who worries about hishobbiesand assumes he collects and stuffs dead animals? Taxidermy is a valuable trade. Many lords pay for their trophies’ preservation, you know?”
“Ivaguelysee your point, Ser, though I have not yet decided if I shall heed to it. And I do hope myhusbandthinks of me as something more than just agirl.For all our sakes.”
“I’m sure he will. In six month’s time.”
I rolled my eyes at his instance. “The Prince did not write me either,” I said. “I can only surmise that he is looking forward to an honest introduction as well. Perhaps he’s the mindful type?”
“There. The worry has resolved itself. Now we can–”
“But what if he–”
“Svana, please,” Elías said. “Everything will be fine.”
“Fine?”I asked. “Fine?”
“I meant great,” he pleaded. “I meant, you are such a fun gir–woman, I meant woman, to be around. You’re close in age. You could have married an old duke. But His Highness, he’s young. I’m certain you will like each other in some way as the young do, and all will be well.”
