“Forty minutes,” Imogen called.
Adeline’s eyes rounded. “I’d better get ready.”
She kissed him again and herded him toward the door with one shoe on and the other clutched in his hand.
“Get changed into fresh nightclothes, the nicest ones you have – it’s my little birthday tradition.”
In the other room, Imogen sat, neat and poised, in the armchair by the empty fireplace. She rose into an even curtsey and Kai returned a lopsided bow, his poorly laced shirt hanging open as he bent.
“Good morning, Your Majesty. Apologies for the intrusion.”
He started speaking, meaning to assure her that he’d just beenvisitingwith the Princess and she hadn’t intruded at all, truly. The words died on his lips at the barely concealed smirk the dressmaker gave him, and he shrugged helplessly instead.
“Good morning, Lady Imogen. I think she’s ready for you.”
He nodded over his shoulder, then stepped aside to hold the door open as Imogen passed him.
He pulled it shut behind him, and no sooner had it settled in its frame than he heard Imogen’s muffled exclamation.
“Well, well, well.”
A swell of giddy laughter was all Kai heard before he hurried from the room.
???
The family breakfast was a strange affair. Before Adeline, Kai had never courted anyone - not like this, not openly. He had imagined that being an official consort to the Princess of Eisalaan would be more formal. But also, somehow,lessformal. The Beira family were, as Adeline had warned him, dressed in an odd mix of nightgowns and fine jewels, bed robes and elaborate hairstyles. He tugged absently at the black velvet robe that Simon had found for him, and wished that he hadn’t worn his slippers.
He couldn’t have imagined that this relationship would see him the honour of being seated at the Queen’s table during a family celebration, while cousins and courtiers were relegated to further corners of the dining room. At the same time, Kai had been half-dreading some kind of audience with the Queen in which she’d expect to hear his intentions with her daughter. Instead, she greeted him warmly as Adeline led him by the hand to the table, then turned to envelope her daughter in a hug as the family all around them called out their birthday wishes.
In fact, the only person at the table to even blink at his arrival was – of course – Mareda. The eldest Princess stiffened on sight, then pursed her lips and uttered something short and sharp to her father. Edward paused with a piece of bacon speared on the fork that was halfway to his lips, and glanced in Kai’s direction. His expression was not quite apologetic – perhaps more uncomfortable, as though he weren’t so much embarrassed at his daughter’s abrasiveness as he was embarrassed she’d been caught out.
“Kai, come sit,” Adeline whispered up at him, tugging on his velvet sleeve from her seat at the table.
He offered Edward a slight nod, then took his seat beside his Princess.
With Mareda resolutely ignoring them both, the rest of the morning passed by rather pleasantly. Adeline was bright and glowing under the attentions of her family, and their love for her translated to warmth and welcome to Kai. The Queen fussed over his plate, stacking it high with hot scones and creamy scrambled eggs, and even Silas seemed to have forgotten the discomfort of their encounter in the Healer’s tent, happily engaging Kai in a discussion about the theory of Wielding.
“And then of course there are those who claim that the Laune is the magical beating heart of the world, and that our rivers and oceans act as arteries,” Silas was saying. “Some scholars believe that’s why magic is no longer found outside of Eisalaan. The heart is frozen, so the magic does not flow as it once did.”
“Mm,” Kai nodded, as non-committal as he dared. “An interesting idea.”
He gripped his fork tightly, determined not to react. This definition of magic was all too familiar. Almost too close to his own unsavoury experiences with the phenomenon. If he thought on it too long, he could hear Avette’s honey-sweet voice in his ear. Could feel the press of the deep water on his eardrums, the sting of the glass vial biting into his palm.
Silas smiled apologetically. “Forgive me, I’m blathering. It’s refreshing to have a new sounding board you see; Adeline has heard my theories ad nauseam.”
Adeline grinned at him over the rim of her teacup. “Surely notad nauseam.Close enough though.”
Silas reached over the bread basket to ruffle his daughter’s hair fondly, and she dodged away laughing, curled into Kai’s side, and stayed there.
They were the last to leave the table, with Adeline having to sit and receive well wishes from each of her guests. Kai kept her cup full of the hot honeyed tea she seemed to favour, and sat patiently as she embraced a flurry of aunts and uncles, cousins and courtiers.
When Mareda passed by, slow and careful on her crutches, without even sparing a glance at her sister, it didn’t escape his attention that Adeline’s spine and shoulders stiffened. And then dropped. He reached out for her, not sure what good it would do, but at the feel of his hand at her back, Adeline turned her head and smiled.
“Thank you,” she said, and then reached up to cup his cheek.
The look in her eyes was somehow both fierce and soft, the light in them warm as melted caramel.
“I am so glad you’re here,” she whispered earnestly.
