ARLET
My heart pounds so loud, I’m sure the enduares can hear me. We wait for the sign to start.
Then, Mother Liana strikes the ore-chime and a deep, metallic toll rings out. The sound is rich and layered, rippling across the crowd.
The murmurs return like a rushing tide. I smile just as the first wave of women pushes forward, their scrolls in hand.
Inspecting my scroll once more, it takes me a moment to realize the first symbol isfourteen. Since that is the closest to me, I set off there first, winding my way through potted plants from Estela’s magical underground garden, carefully placed alongside artfully arranged crystals that hum soft, ringing tones. The cavern is bursting with color—flowers, jewelry, food, mead—so much that it makes my head spin.
When I arrive at tent fourteen, a small crowd of women has already gathered, admiring the man inside. I shouldn’t be surprised by the lavish arrangement of jewels hanging from towering crystals.
Jewelry is very common in the under mountain, but sometimes I forget just how much of it there is. Humans aren’t used to such finery, so we mainly bring it out for special occasions.
My eyes land on the tall, ocean-risen enduar inside, wearingnothing but a loincloth. His broad shoulders gleam under the warm light. He’s got the darkest blue eyes I’ve ever seen—so much so that they are almost black, and his hair is also exceptionally smoke-grey. My mouth parts.
I blink, sure I didn’t see him waiting in the group of people. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him before. His muscles look like they are carved from stone and his legs are built like pillars. He greets each woman with a slow, reverent kiss, and theyactually swoonat his touch.
My feet move before my mind, and I take a step forward to join the line. But then I look at the other women in front of me and remember how hollow I feel receiving affection from a man also charming other women so openly.
It is fun to be adored and pampered. I couldn’t blame anyone for wanting that. But I wasn’t totally comfortable with casual. Definitely wasn’t open to sharing.
Being honest, it ruins the moment for me. He’s attractive, but I don’t think this will work. I want to be wanted so desperately that it feels like I am slowly losing my mind. I want someone who sees only me, burns for me, doesn’t look at another when I am near.
I want that person also to be my mate, so I could have another chance to be a mother.
I exhale, staunching any disappointment, and glance down at my scroll for the next number. Number thirty-nine.
I move on down the passageways between rows of tents.
As I weave through more stations, another chime sounds—this one higher pitch and twinkling. A low moan follows, throaty and desperate, and I whip my head around just in time to see the human woman from earlier, Dashia, pinned beneath an enduar man I don’t know, caught in a frenzy of lust, their passionate kissing fully on display.
Assistants rush forward, cloaks held high to shield the scene and a few humans laugh uncomfortably around me.
The announcement rings through the cavern, voices lifting with it. "The first matehoodhas been made!"
The words leave me hollow and burning all at once. That happened so fast.What the hell?She wasn’t even looking for a mate.
I scold myself for the unkind thought, and press on.
We are all different. We all have different needs.
My breath is uneven, the damp warmth of the cavern crawling along my spine. I wipe sweat from my brow, swallowing the frustration curling in my gut and hoping my makeup doesn’t show off my freckles.
Reminding myself I mostly only came here for Estela and to support the council doesn’t help. I just feel… behind?
I reach tent thirty-nine almost hoping for something miraculous to occur, but the result is the same. The decorations are different, but the enduar man inside is equally stunning, and the ritualistic gathering of potential partners is just as familiar.
But this time, I don’t leave. I wait until I’m standing before the man, and smile.
“Lady Arlet,” he says. “It is an honor.”
My lips twitch. We’re both fully clothed, but I feel so exposed. There is no place to talk or see if we might have shared interests. No place to have a few minutes to get to know each other.
This feels shallow.
After a few seconds, I realize neither of us have spoken.
“Sorry. Hello. Uhm, how are you?”
