Page 28 of Romancing the Throne
He opened the door farther and I stepped inside. Sparrow was holding a polished wooden-handled hairbrush in one hand and wearing the blue tunic with the lace panels and a pair of black leggings. The bed was strewn with the rest of his wardrobe, including his outdated velvet doublet. “I thought it best to stay in my room when the prince arrives,” he said. “And I still haven’t decided between this tunic or the purple for our meeting. But then I thought that perhaps, knowing I come from Hillstowe, he might be expecting me in more traditional wear? And now I don’t know at all.”
The crease between his brows deepened.
“Sparrow, did you sleep at all last night, or did you lie awake worrying about your tunic?” I asked gently.
His shoulders slumped and he set the hairbrush down. “It’s not just my tunic,” he said. “I’m worried about my hair aswell. And my magic. What if none of it is good enough? What ifI’mnot good enough?”
It was instinct to pull him against my chest and wrap my arms around him. “Birdoswyn Abrecan Cranhawc-Hazelthorn, you are a genteel elf of good standing from an excellent family. You are attractive and clever and kind, your manners are impeccable, and you are able to produce beautiful magic with a single kiss. I meant what I said last night. If Aldian doesn’t see your value, then he’s a fool.”
Sparrow drew a shaky breath and mumbled, “Thank you,” against my chest. He pulled away and tilted his head back. “But what if hedoesn’twant to marry me? What will I do then? This is my life plan, Elowin. I don’t have a trade or skills. Am I supposed to just go back to Hillstowe? Because I don’t know if I could, now.”
He gave me a sad smile while he waited for my answer, and my heart broke for him a little. He’d poured so much of himself into being the Fyreham Lathian that it was all he knew, but at the same time, it wasn’t who he was at all.
He was so much more than that.
Drawing a breath, I said, “Sparrow, have you forgotten? This is the Marriage Market, and you’re a catch! If you did want to find another noble elf, well, three turns of the pavilion in one of your fancy new outfits, and you’d have a crowd of suitors lining up at your door to offer you their hand.” I plastered on a fake smile. “Your mother will never have to make cheese again.”
“Oh.” His own smile faded. “Of course. Yes. Another genteel family.”
“Or you could take up playing the lute,” I said, “or go and work with Rowan, or buy a horse and travel the continent. There are a thousand choices you could make if you don’t marry the prince.”
“Yes,” he said in a small voice. “But being the FyrehamLathian is more than my birthright, Elowin. It’s my duty too.” The divot between his brows appeared again, but he squared his shoulders and nodded to himself. “I look fine. More than fine. And my hair is brushed and neat. I’m ready.”
From the window I heard the clop of hooves and the jangle of trappings.
Aldian was arriving.
“Well then,” I said, my heart sinking. “I think it’s time we went to the Ceremonial Pavilion.”
Flanked by his royal guards as he arrived at the Ceremonial Pavilion, Aldian Fyreham-Aethelan looked every inch the noble prince. He was tall and handsome, with hair the color of spun gold. And despite having already traveled for hours today, his clothes barely looked rumpled. He was effortlessly noble and, judging by Sparrow’s sharp gasp when he laid eyes on him, breathtakingly beautiful.
There was a crowd watching. Of course there was. The Ceremonial Pavilion was mostly used for marriages, but Aldian was a prince, and the Fyreham Lathian was a tradition old enough to have some pomp and ceremony attached to it, so this was where he and Sparrow would meet. The crowd murmured appreciatively as Aldian strode into the sunlit pavilion and approached where Sparrow and I waited. If I knew Aldian—and I did—then despite his noble bearing and gracious smile that gave every impression that this was important business, he was already planning to head over the bridge to the Glaesflod Islands for a game of dice and a couple of hours under the influence of the most potent intoxication charm his money could buy.
Teon and their fellow guards made a corridor for Aldian to approach unimpeded.
Beside me, Sparrow vibrated like the string of a lute wound too tightly. I wanted to reach out and squeeze his hand, but I had a feeling that would only add to his nerves, so I kept my hands firmly clasped behind my back.
“Your Highness,” I said. “Allow me to present Birdoswyn Abrecan Cranhawc-Hazelthorn, the Fyreham Lathian.”
Aldian didn’t even blink at Sparrow’s name. “Welcome to Everend Market, Birdoswyn. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
“It is an honor, my prince,” Sparrow said, his voice shaking just a little bit as he bowed. When he straightened up, his face was pink, and his gaze darted nervously to the assembled spectators. “Might I display my magic for you, Your Highness?”
“Please do,” Aldian said with a slight nod.
Sparrow took a deep breath and closed his eyes, an expression of fierce concentration on his face. Aldian watched on, and after a minute or so he tugged at the collar of his tunic. Then he said, “Let me know when it starts, won’t you, Birdoswyn?”
Sparrow’s eyes flew open and his face turned a deeper shade of pink. “That’s it, Your Highness. The warmth, I mean.”
A whisper ran through the crowd, and Sparrow’s face flamed red.
To Aldian’s credit, he just nodded seriously. “Oh, I see. Well, you don’t get that sort of magic very often, do you? It’s very subtle.”
Sparrow blinked rapidly, as though he was trying to hold back tears. His throat bobbed, and he said, with a note of desperation in his tone, “I can do more!”
Aldian gave him an encouraging smile.
And Sparrow darted forward in front of a crowd ofwatching elves andkissedthe prince. I tensed, waiting for the explosion of butterflies that was absolutely not subtle and would surely impress Aldian.
