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“I’ve spent the whole morning thinking about what I’d say to you,” he admitted. “Now I can’t remember any of it.”

“Then you can stop rehearsing,” she replied. “I’d rather meet you than your speech.”

He laughed and offered his hand. She took it, and for a moment neither spoke. Then the satyr sighed. “Well. At least I won’t have to wonder.”

“I hope you find her,” Thalia said. “Your mate is waiting for you somewhere out there.”

He thanked her before letting go. I was relieved that I wasn’t the cause of his disappointment. He’d have received the same answer if I’d stayed at Petrion. The next satyr touched the first man’s shoulder briefly, then offered his own hand. Both he and the third satyr received a similar reply. She was not their mate.

Then, Thalia reached the minotaur who’d hailed her on the path. He cleared his throat to greet her. “I suppose I should apologise for getting in your way.”

“You moved when I asked. That’s a promising start.”

By then, I wanted to hear what she’d make of me. My name and title would hardly serve after these introductions, and every remark I considered sounded like the beginning of an address to the clans. She didn’t linger with the minotaur, but I knew she couldn’t. She’d have to choose at the end.

She gave each man in the row time to speak, even when the spectators tried to hurry her. One by one, each rejected suitor stepped back. Then she was beside Nessos. The centaur offered his hand without any of the hesitant introductions she’d heard from the others. Her breath caught when their palms met.

It was a small sound, easily lost beneath the murmuring onlookers. I was close enough to hear it. Nessos drew a deeper breath of his own and went still. She steadied her breathing, but he remained motionless until she began to draw her hand back. Unless I was badly mistaken, the centaur was a potential mate.

His offer to keep her among her people had sounded like a challenge to me. Perhaps it had been a plea to her. They already knew each other. Had she wanted him before the elders sought me out?

His arm followed hers before he released her. Thalia’s skirt brushed his foreleg as she turned to finish the row.

I’d dressed for the market as formally as I would have in Asphodelia, down to the soft leather gloves. Now I wanted to straighten cuffs that were already smooth. Nessos was still beside me, close enough that I could hear the change in his breathing as she left him.

She stopped in front of me. Cedar and fresh flowers cut through the scents of the crowd. One of my serpents stretched toward her, and I pinned its coils against my shoulder before offering her my hand.

She took it without hesitation. Her fingers closed firmly over the leather, and I inclined my head. There was no laughter now, and whatever I might have said was entirely unsuitable. I had admired how she put the other men at ease. Standing before me, she was as formal as I was.

She wasn’t my match. I’d known it before I’d even set foot in this bride market. How could she be? An Asphodelian could only match a death-touched bride, and she was a creature of life.

But for a moment, as we stood together, I couldn’t help but wish things were different.

She began to pull her hand back. I opened mine, and she turned back toward the stone. The serpents’ weight shifted against my neck as she walked away.

The auctioneer waited for her to take her place.

“You’ve touched every offered hand. Whom do you choose?”

“I choose Eryx of Asphodelia.”

I’d known what she would say. Still, for a foolish instant, I took pleasure in hearing her say it. There were men here who’d travelled for days hoping to be named, and she’d named me.

Then I remembered her father’s assurances, the discussions with the elders, the gold waiting in my bag. She’d kept her part of the agreement. That was all I could honestly claim to know about her choice.

The auctioneer struck the stone with his staff.

“Eryx of Asphodelia. Your offer of ten thousand gold coins is accepted.”

A murmur passed through the grove. At my side, Nessos remained silent. One of the satyrs called a blessing upon Thalia, and a few people joined him. Others began gathering their belongings, talking about the bids they’d made and the journey home.

I stepped out of the row. The naga drew his coils aside to let me pass, and I thanked him. He dipped his head briefly, then turned toward one of the other bidders. Already, the group was breaking apart.

The private bonding ceremony would make Thalia my wife. Today she’d become my bride, yet the people around us were preparing to depart. She would leave with none of the men she’d greeted so easily. Her place would be at Petrion, among my medicines and the half-repaired rooms of an old estate. I’d been satisfied with that home until I tried to imagine her arriving there.

At the auctioneer’s table, I set down my bag and loosened its ties. He began pulling the gold out to weigh it.

While he worked, I listened to a woman call to Thalia across the grove. Thalia answered her, and some of the ease I’d heard earlier returned. I wondered what Petrion would sound like with her in it.