Page 52 of The Sun King's Noon

“You are a menace.”

Corwin beamed. “I love you too!” He squinted. “By chance, do you know what upset Kaelen last night? He returned to me awfully funny.”

Richard’s steps faltered. He dipped his brother. “In what manner?”

“We were supposed to be celebrating,” Corwin said. “But he refused to drink and stood at the oak tree a long while. Said he would wear blue at the wedding.”

“What wedding?”

“You tell me!” Corwin grabbed Richard’s shoulder to steady himself. “The fool kept staring at the stars and wiped a single tear from an eye. Fancies himself a tragic hero in an odyssey.”

Richard frowned. Whose wedding? Not Elara’s, surely. Not Corwin’s—the boy couldn’t commit to a man or woman for longer than a month. Not?—

“Wait,” Richard said, horrified. “He means to marry Ravi?”

“No, silly! Kaelen only met him two days ago!” Corwin gasped. “Perhaps it is Lady Selwyn’s wedding! Perhaps she has decided to leave Dain for the cobbler after all! Oh, this is dreadful!” He staggered towards Selwyn, who was piling on a slice by the cake trolley. Richard hurried to follow.

“My lady!” Corwin wailed, sweeping a startled Selwyn into a hug. “I beg you, do not leave poor Dain alone. Why, he shall starve without your good company, and waste away to bones andmoustache! And he does have fine attributes, truly! His arms are very sturdy, and he tells wonderful stories, and he once hid me under his bed when Father was hunting for me?—”

“Boy, that was me. Dain was the man who dragged you out and marched you to Haldric.” Selwyn wobbled, the plate of cake held aloft in one hand as she patted Corwin’s back with the other.

“He is drunk, my lady.” Richard sighed.

“I am not that drunk!” Corwin released Selwyn and drew himself up to full height. “I understand everything that is going on. I am aware, Brother, of it all. I have a great deal of opinions.”

“May we be saved from your opinions,” Richard muttered, as Selwyn resumed eating the cake.

In the hall’s centre, the herald’s staff cracked against the floor three times, and the chatter quietened.

“My lords, my ladies, and honoured guests of both or neither!” the old man boomed. “The votes for Emberlain’s Chosen have been tallied! Thank you to those who participated. Your voices have been heard, and the winner has been determined!”

Richard rolled his eyes. It was a silly tradition done every summer ball. The winner was granted a dance with anyone of their choosing, and many used the opportunity to propose.

Corwin smoothed back his fringe and squared his shoulders. “Right. That is me, of course.” He tugged his corset down and strode towards the herald. “Stand aside! I am here!”

The herald hurriedly rotated in the opposite direction. “Sir Kaelen Haramont!”

Applause crashed, punctuated by shrill whistles from the younger courtiers. Kaelen emerged, blushing, from near the east wall. As he reached the centre, the chandelier overhead flared, casting a pool of golden light around him.

Corwin stood in Kaelen’s path, arms crossed and pouting. Kaelen laughed and steered him towards Elara and Penelope.

“Thank you.” Kaelen gave the crowd a sheepish grin. “I do not know what I did to earn this honour, but as Emberlain’s Chosen, I must now select a partner for the main dance. And of course, they must be the most beautiful and radiant person in this room.”

Dozens preened, adjusting their hair or dabbing more rouge to their lips. Squires jostled each other to stand closer.

Richard slumped against the table, his shoulder brushing Selwyn’s as Kaelen’s gaze swept the room. No doubt, Ravi would be chosen. The court would swoon as the two of them took the floor, and Richard would be forced to clap like the rest.

But Kaelen turned to the west side of the hall, past the last row of tables, and towards a bench beneath the tall window. On it, Briony sat alone, hunched over her sketchbook, her legs swinging. Her cheeks were blotchy as if she’d been crying.

Kaelen gave a solemn bow. “Princess, would you honour me with this dance?”

Briony’s head snapped up, eyes widening to find Kaelen before her.

“Me?” she gasped.

“Of course. The most radiant at this ball.”

The sketchbook tumbled from Briony’s lap. She launched off the bench, curls bouncing, and seized Kaelen’s outstretched hand.