“Well,” said Theo, “once the alliance is formalized, no doubt we can benefit from these innovations as well.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” Paulson inclined his head respectfully before moving to join the other on-duty guards along one wall.
Theo had just reached his seat when the royal family entered. His eyes flew immediately to Elowen, and although her eyes were cast down, he could tell from the way her cheeks reddened that he’d almost caught her in the act of watching him. He’donce again been given a seat next to her, but he doubted it would do him much good. The awkwardness between them after the previous day was tangible.
“Good morning, Elowen,” he said, his voice determinedly even and pleasant. “Today is a big day for us all, I take it.”
“I suppose so.” She didn’t meet his eye.
To their mutual relief, the exchange ended as a member of the court welcomed the guests and announced that he had been given the role of master of events for the tournament. The applause following mention of the tournament was particularly riotous from the young people, Theo noted. Everywhere he looked, he saw excited faces, although a handful of the more lined ones looked somber and anxious. Clearly not everyone had forgotten about the burst dam and its likely impacts.
“Given we haven’t held a betrothal tournament for over twenty years, we will all need a reminder of the format,” the nobleman continued. “The tournament will last six days and will include the following events: archery, jousting, the maze, hand-to-hand without weapons, and, the main event, weapons combat. All members of His Majesty’s court and visiting members from the courts of our allies will have the opportunity to pit their skill against their fellows.”
A cheer went up from a group of young men seated on the other side of the room. The master of events smiled indulgently before continuing.
“And for his common subjects, His Majesty will host running races, lumber-felling, hay baling, pig races, and of course the craftsmen’s competition to showcase the magical abilities of our kingdom.”
Theo tilted his head to the side, interested. If the craftsmen’s competition was part of the commoners’ events, clearly Torrens was no more inclined than Siqual to encourage nobles to pursue magic craft.
Movement brought his glance down the table, to where a young nobleman was trying to catch Elowen’s eye, his chest puffed out in what Theo took to be a silent declaration of his intent to fight for her favor. His posture was familiar from all the times Theo had seen similar attempts to impress his sister Miriam. Theo wasn’t sure whether to be irritated or amused as the young nobleman finally succeeded in getting Elowen’s attention and crossed an arm over his heart. Amusement won as the clumsy gesture resulted in his elbow knocking a goblet of ale. As the cup teetered on the edge of the table, Theo braced for a fall. But the unbalanced moment stretched out impossibly, long enough for the knight to realize and to hastily snatch the cup to safety.
Theo’s eyes moved to the servant standing closest, working a hand crank and concentrating hard on that stretch of table. Just how many everyday tasks were being enhanced by Dust in King Ronan’s castle?
“After which,” the master of events was continuing, “the tournament’s crowning event will be the victor’s feast.” The answering cheer was even louder than the last, probably because those with no interest in actually competing could still get behind the prospect of a castle-funded feast. As he waited for the noise to die down, the master of events bent into a half bow in Theo and Elowen’s direction. “At which we will celebrate the princess’s betrothal.”
Theo inclined his head in recognition of the gesture, although he noted that his name hadn’t actually been mentioned. It would probably ruin the image, however artificial, of a tournament to win the princess’s hand. Theo’s eyes strayed to Elowen’s face, noting that she looked uncomfortable. Unease trickled over him. She’d assured him Torrens was committed to the alliance. So why didn’t it feel that way?
Once everyone had been invited to eat, the nobleman in charge of the tournament moved discreetly to Theo’s side.
“Your Highness,” he said, after tediously formal introductions, “are there any questions you wish to ask regarding your role in the tournament?”
Theo fought to keep his tone pleasant instead of rueful. “I believe I understand,” he said. “I’m invited to compete in any of the events I choose, to whatever level I can…honorably perform.”
“That’s right, Your Highness.” The man dipped his head in approval. “And when you are ready to do so, you can withdraw with all honor so as to let the court enjoy their tournament.”
“I wouldn’t wish to outshine anyone,” Theo said with a touch of humor that he doubted the other man could hear. He supposed that if the tournament was important for the sake of tradition, they needed some way to avoid the embarrassment of the politically chosen suitor being bested by someone—potentially everyone—else.
“Very gracious of you, Your Highness,” the master of events said without a hint of irony. “It is customary for the princess’s intended to compete in the first round of at least the archery and the weapons combat. Rest assured you will be judiciously matched in these events.”
Meaning he would be pitted against someone fairly useless whom he could easily best. It was a small blow to his pride, but he would live.
The master of events took his leave, and Theo turned in time to see Elowen’s lip curl slightly. He raised an eyebrow.
“You disapprove?”
Elowen lifted a porridge-laden spoon to her mouth. “I didn’t say that.”
“You think I should be required to compete in all of the events through to the end?” Theo pressed.
“No, of course not.”
The answer was unconvincing, and Theo turned to more fully face her.
“Perhaps you would prefer to be bound to abide by the tournament’s true result?” he said, a sharp edge to his voice. “Or would it bring you pleasure to have your betrothed proved unworthy by his challengers?”
“No,” said Elowen, her irritation clear in the lift of her chin and the arch of her neck. “I think the whole charade should be dispensed with. It hasn’t been used as an actual decider for generations. I can’t comprehend why it’s still considered a necessary attachment to the betrothal of a princess.”
“Well, I can’t help you with making sense of your own kingdom’s traditions.” Seeing the thin line of Elowen’s lips, Theo reined in his annoyance. He didn’t want to argue with her. He wanted to be kind. And it wasn’t kind to forget how awkward all this must be for the princess. “But if it makes you feel better,” he said, his voice more amicable, “Siqual has plenty of traditions that don’t hold up to much intelligent scrutiny. We still like to follow them, out of sentiment, I suppose.”
