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Before the prince tugged me away, I whispered to Owein. “That pretty lass, at the table to your right, has been ogling you all evening. Dance with her, please.”
Owein’s face brightened, and I relaxed as the prince pulled me through the parting dancers on the floor.
“I’m still embarrassed over our meeting. I don’t normally cry in front of others outside my family.” Kelyn forced a mock scowl.
I giggled. “Are you sensitive, Your Highness?”
“Highly. Normally I run from the room and cry on my pillow.”
I snorted, pleased the prince was joking about his former awkwardness. “You wouldn’t fit in where I’m from.”
“Oh? How so?” Kelyn whirled me past Owein, who, I was glad to see, had listened to my plea on behalf of the forlorn maiden.
“My people are proud to a fault,” I said.
“Pride never leads to peace.”
I quirked my eyebrows. “Is this speaking from experience, Your Highness?”
Kelyn was gleaning from our conversation over dinner. I had described Gorlassar to him at length. I figured the lay of the land and the cities’ descriptions were safe. I neglected to explain anything about dragons, who roamed freely there.
“Some yes,” he said. “Some more of an observation. Why are you here? Why’d you leave Gorlassar if it’s such a perfect place?”
“I didn’t say Gorlassar was perfect.”
“You said your people claim to be pure and light-filled.”
I’d told him we heal with the light inside us. I had to. He wanted to know how I healed his mother. I didn’t give him specifics. “We are pure in the sense that we have no darkness. We carry faults though.”
“As I can well see.”
I stopped, and a dancer slammed into me, forcing me into Kelyn’s arms. “Your Highness!” He smelled of cinnamon and cypress, and I was almost lost in the intoxicating aroma. “You presume—”
Kelyn whisked me back into proper, steady steps after excusing the couple begging his pardon. “Doesn’t the blush of your delicate cheeks and the tension in the graceful curve of your neck betray your ill temper? When you’re heated or impassioned or worried, every sign is revealed in your posture, your step, your intonation. You hide behind sharp words.”
“I don’t—”
“When I met you, I was amazed by your flattering language or, rather, quick comeback to my stammering words. I didn’t hide my stumble or conceal the fact I was blubbering. But you, what were you hiding?”
“I… I…” I was mortified I’d witnessed such a tender exchange between him and his mother. I disliked being privy to soft emotion. I hated watching it; I hated feeling it. I hated how the emrys felt every single one of each other’s unguarded feelings. Everything was on display. Nothing was private. Not my feelings. Not Aneirin’s feelings. Not my mother’s feelings and certainly not my rigid father’s feelings. I had every pure emotion flung in my face since birth, and I was sick of it!
Kelyn scanned my face. “Ah. You have no words for what you were feeling.”
My chest was heaving. I pushed back the dam of threatening emotion. “Everything is just different where I’m from.”
“We mortals are not what you expected?”
I caught my breath as I caught his blue eyes. “No, you’re more.”
SEVENTEEN
Despite the late night, subjects rolled out of bed by high noon, and the palace bustled once again.
Sorfrona and I took a late breakfast on the veranda, accompanied by Tiwlip. The boys played on the lawn. Kelyn and Kenrik were teaching Brenin how to play some game where they hit a ball through obstacles for points. Kelyn guided Brenin’s tiny hand around the mallet and tapped a hard ball through a wire hoop.
I had a sudden desire to learn this odd game as I watched Kelyn lean over the curly-topped lad. Kenrik twirled his mallet over his shoulder, relaxed, but keen on besting his older brother, even though Kelyn had the handicap of his four-year-old cousin.
“Just because I won the joust, doesn’t mean I’ll let you win at croquet.” Kenrik rubbed his angular jaw.
