He sighs, resolved to his fate. “If that’s the way you want it.”
I pull him into a hug. “That’s the way I want it. Now.” I push him to arm’s length. “I’ve got a fire ceremony to prepare for. If you’ll excuse me. I don’t want to be late.”
35
Ever since my magic finally bloomed, I’ve been learning how to control it by performing little tasks.
Like right now, I’m using it to lift a hairbrush off the dresser and into my hands.
“Your mother’s going to be impressed,” Elmore says from his spot in the mirror atop the vanity. “Have you told her yet?”
“No, but she’ll know tonight when the fire ceremony works.”
He smooths a hand over his wavy white pompadour. “Are you sure of that?”
“Oh, I’m sure.”
And I am. I know how to release my magic and how to pull it in. The fire ceremony’s going to be great. It’s the least of my worries.
The one thing I am nervous about is that large blue box sitting on a table by the bed.
Elmore drops his chin onto his folded hands. “Why the long face?”
“Tonight’s the exchanging of the gifts, and I’m nervous thatFeylin won’t like mine, even though Zandra promised that it’s his favorite.”
“You should be more worried about liking what he got you.” He pumps his eyebrows in curiosity. “Do you have any clue what it is?”
“No, he won’t tell me, even though he’s pestered me every day this week about my gift to him.”
Absolutely true. Between sneaking into corners to steal kisses, Feylin’s been on a mission to find out what his gift is. Goodness, for someone who leads a nation of people, he really can’t take suspense at all. He’s probably the type who reads the last page of a book before he starts it so that he already knows how it’s going to end.
Elmore laughs. “Of course he’s pestering you. He wants you to tell him, but he doesn’t want to tell you. It’s a tale as old as time. Come on and stand, now. Let’s see how you look.”
I rise and show off the deep blue dress that I’m wearing. I gave Ophelia the night off, telling her that it wasn’t any trouble to get myself dressed and ready. It isn’t, but I do miss her conversation.
The gown is strapless with a sweetheart neckline. I chose this color specifically because it matches Feylin’s eyes, and I knew when I tried it on at the tailor that it’d be perfect for this ceremony. Yes, I could’ve gone with something red, sinceyou know,fire ceremony and all, but why be predictable?
The sound of voices drift into the room. “They’re arriving. I’ve got to go.”
“Aren’t you going to show me Feylin’s gift? After all, I won’t be at the ceremony. For the life of me, I can’t figure out how to get into the mirrors in this castle.”
“Have you even tried?” I tease.
“No, not really.” He shrugs. “What can I say? I’m lazy. But come on, show me the gift before you dash off.”
“Zandra gave it to me,” I explain as I grab the box from the table.
His brow lifts in intrigue. “Zandra?”
“Yes, you don’t know her—tall, dark skin, beautiful fae.”
“Hm. There’s something familiar about her name,” he says with a frown.
“Anyway, the gift.”
“Yes, yes. Show it to me.”
A smile takes over my mouth as I lift the lid from the box and display what’s inside. “Here it is. Feylin’s favorite book.”
