“Yes, of course,” she assured him. She gave a weak smile. “I think I’ll stay inside the banquet hall this evening, however.”
A tightness appeared behind Theo’s eyes, but after a quick scan of the room, his face relaxed again.
“Have you told your father what happened?”
“I haven’t,” Elowen admitted, fiddling with her spoon to avoid meeting his eyes.
Theo seemed to sense her embarrassment, and the next moment, his hand had slid over hers, stilling its movement. Infact, Elowen’s whole body went still, unable to pull her gaze from their linked hands. His skin was rougher than hers, his fingers warm and strong. She felt enclosed but not trapped. Safe.
“Elowen.”
She forced her eyes up to meet his.
“You’ve done nothing wrong, and you have nothing to be ashamed of.” His voice turned rueful. “I, on the other hand…”
“No, Theo.” Elowen’s voice was a murmur as she spoke over him. “I don’t blame you for the misunderstanding. I’m just glad you forgive me now that you know how it was.”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” Theo said, his voice harsh. Collecting himself, he softened it immediately. “I don’t wish to interfere, but I think you should tell your father.”
Elowen’s eyes drifted to the man in question, to see that the king was at that moment rising to his feet. The rest of the room followed, her and Theo among them.
“Welcome,” King Ronan said, his voice carrying over the gathered assembly with calm authority. “I am delighted to celebrate the tournament’s completion with you all. But first, I have news to share. I know many have been concerned by the recent disasters that have struck various regions of our kingdom.”
The mood of his listeners shifted, the silence suddenly thick.
“These matters have been under investigation,” King Ronan continued, “and I regret to say that the incidents appear to have been malicious in intent.”
Murmurs spread quickly around the room, everyone assuring their neighbor that they suspected as much all along.
“However.” The king’s voice carried over the hubbub, bringing instant order again. “I’m pleased to report that we have a perpetrator in custody who has confessed to having caused these disasters with the intent of creating significant Dust.Justice will be done for the damage caused, and there is every reason to hope there will be no more incidents.”
Applause greeted these words, everyone beginning to speak at once. Elowen saw relief on many faces, all eyes bright with excited speculation.
“This is big news,” she said aloud. “I knew nothing of this development.”
“I believe it’s just happened,” Theo said. Something in his low, gentle voice sent unease over Elowen. His eyes searched her face. “Do you know who the perpetrator is?”
She shook her head, skimming the crowd anxiously. She hadn’t noticed before, but the duke and his family were all conspicuously absent.
“On to the purpose for our celebration,” King Ronan continued, smiling on his subjects’ good cheer. “Patrick?”
“Yes.” Patrick stood, his posture rigid as always as he cast his eyes over the gathered court. “Last night, we toasted our victors among the nobility in all events but one. It is my honor to officially close the tournament tonight, as we celebrate the victor of the weapons fighting.” He turned to Theo, inclining his head. “His Highness Prince Theodore, second-born son of King Madoc of Siqual.”
Everyone began to applaud, although Elowen noticed that not every face showed equal excitement. She gave Theo a warm smile.
“And, of course,” King Ronan resumed, “in so celebrating, we formally mark the betrothal of His Highness to our own Princess Elowen.”
At her father’s gesture, Elowen and Theo moved to join him. Internally, Elowen reflected that her father had worded the declaration very neatly, as though the betrothal really did flow from the tournament victory. What would he have said if Theo had lost? The whole thing was as much of a farce as ever, but thebetrothal itself was about to become very real. Nerves jittered over her as two servants moved toward the table, each holding a silver tray with a jewel-encrusted goblet.
One was carried to her father, who lifted it in both hands while Patrick received the other. When both goblets were ready, the king spoke again.
“With this cup, Princess Elowen and Prince Theodore formally accept the proposed alliance between the mighty kingdoms of Torrens and Siqual. And as they drink to seal their betrothal, we all anticipate the wedding to come, and the new era of shared prosperity that will follow.”
Applause once again rang through the space, but again it was muted from certain sections of the tables that lined the walls of the banquet hall. There were still a significant number among her father’s court who weren’t enthusiastic about the marriage alliance. Elowen found she didn’t care much. She would be living in Siqual, far away from any need to deal with their disapproval.
As she’d been told to expect, her father handed her the goblet he held, and Patrick gave his to Theo. The vessel was heavy, wrought from gold mined from Torrens’ northern region. But the pattern engraved on it depicted the trees of Siqual’s western region as they melted into the dunes of its desert, and the sapphires studding it had been refined and worked by a metalsmith from that kingdom. Likewise the other goblet showed the flowing rivers and temperate farmland of Torrens and was embellished with emeralds from the mines on the Duke of Nirocha’s land.
She drank from the cup of Siqual, Theo from the cup of Torrens. So they marked their commitment to the kingdom of the other.
