Page 40 of A Filling of Fables and Firelight

“Of course he does! If he were interested in me romantically, he would have said something by now.”

“Unless he thought you were uninterested in him,” Teta pointed out. “You made no secret of how you felt about him when you first met. Perhaps he’s simply respecting those boundaries. He obviously likes you enough to regularly seek out your company, and friendships are often the best foundation for something more. But if he’s afraid his feelings would be unwelcome, he might say nothing out of a desire to maintain your current friendship.”

Something that felt suspiciously like hope flared in her chest, waking a kaleidoscope of butterflies. If Teta was right, if Kamaran really did care for her but was holding himself back because he thought she didn’t feel the same…

“I’ve seen that face before,” Teta said with a smile. “What are you thinking?”

“I think that it’s time we finally get to the happily-ever-after part of the story.” Rana stood. “The part where the girl realizes that the prince isn’t the lizard she thought he was and breaks his curse—maybe even with a kiss.”

Teta pushed herself up from her chair and shuffled over to the counter. She picked up the tin that Rana had brought in to be refilled and handed it to her. “And if that doesn’t work, don’t forget that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. If he was willing to marry me for my Adhavian Delight, imagine what he’ll say when he learns you know the recipe as well as I do.”

Chapter Twenty

KAMARAN

Kamaran paced the dais floor in front of his throne, nervously checking the door every few seconds for the first sign of his chief Vizier. The movement caused his side to ache, but sitting on his father’s throne—his throne now, really, though he wasn’t sure he would ever get used to thinking of it that way—was just as uncomfortable.

“Your Majesty, would you like to pet Spot?”

He looked up, surprised and yet not at all to find Jasper standing at attention against one of the pillars of white marble that lined both sides of the room. His tiger lounged on the floor just behind his feet. “What?”

“You look more worried than a wet sand cat. I’ve heard that petting animals can help reduce stress, and Spot’s fur is very soft and luxurious. You can also feel it all the way up your arm when he purrs, which I find pretty relaxing.”

Spot yawned, revealing his long, sharp fangs and looking the opposite of relaxing.

Kamaran chuckled, feeling a bit of his tension ease at the unexpected gesture. “I think I’ll pass for now, but thank you for the kind offer.”

“Your Majesty, I apologize for keeping you waiting.” Zamar’s voice from the other side of the room drew his attention. He turned around as the vizier approached quickly, his footsteps echoing on the hard mosaic floor. “How can I be of assistance?”

“The announcement this afternoon for the Queen’s Contest,” Kamaran cut right to the point. “Is Rana going to be eliminated?”

Zamar’s eyebrows rose, causing a dozen new wrinkles to appear on his forehead. “Do you want her to be?”

“No!” he answered quickly, shoving a hand through his hair. “I don’t. That’s just it. I want to know whether she’s going to make it to the last round.”

“You do realize that I can’t change the results, right?”

“I don’t need you to change them if she’s moving on.” Kamaran blew out a long breath as he hooked both hands behind his neck. “I just…I need her to win.”

The vizier silently watched him for a minute, then said, “That’s not up to me, Your Majesty.”

“You’re part of the judging committee. Surely, if you tell them that I’ve made a choice⁠—”

“The rules of the Contest allow for a committee overrule if it’s in the country’s best interest.”

Kamaran threw his hands up in exasperation. “Rana is in the country’s best interest. For one, she’s the most intelligent, compassionate, genuine woman I have ever met. She’s level-headed, she works hard, and she’s not afraid to tell me when she thinks I’m wrong—a trait I assume the judges would appreciate.”

Zamar smiled softly. “You love her.”

It was a statement, not a question, and as soon as it was spoken Kamaran knew it was useless to deny it.

“I do,” he breathed, his body going still for the first time since their conversation began. “I love her. She sees me in ways that no one but my father has even tried. I…” he faltered for a moment, fighting with the fear of what his next admission would bring, but knowing that his argument was stronger by laying all his cards on the table. “I can’t read, Zamar. At least, not well. And do you know what she said?” He let out a watery laugh as tears gathered in the corners of his eyes at the memory. “She said it was a good thing that I had staff around that I could ask to read for me. That was it. She didn’t laugh at me or shame me. She didn’t treat me as if I were somehow less intelligent. She just…accepted it.”

He drew a shuddering breath and held it, waiting to see how the vizier would take the news. Zamar looked at him thoughtfully, his face a careful mask. “You’ve had oversight of the trade routes for years.”

Kamaran exhaled. It was not the answer he had expected, but he could see where the confusion might stem from. “Maps and drawings make sense. Trade routes are just lines, and it’s easy to see how one thing affects another and⁠—”

Zamar held up a hand, cutting him off. “What I meant, Your Majesty, was that you’ve had oversight of the trade routes for years, and our economy has only grown. No one can deny that you have an intelligent mind, however differently it works. I’m thankful you’ve found someone who can recognize that, and I’m encouraged that she seems to have given you the confidence you need to give your duties the attention they deserve.” He sighed heavily, sparing a glance at Jasper. “With that being said, I’m not the only one you’re going to have to convince of Rana’s suitability.”