/~/~/~/~/
Two days later, Finn stood in his bedroom while his mother fussed over the formal clothes she’d somehow acquired in record time.
“The dark blue brings out your eyes,” she said, holding up a jacket. “And the gray is very dignified without being stuffy.”
“Mother, I’m going to be there for a week, not a year. I don’t need twelve outfits.”
“You need options. What if there’s a formal dinner? Or a reception? There are those at court that change their clothes two or three times a day. You can’t wear the same thing twice.”
Finn had tried explaining that he probably wouldn’t be attending formal dinners or receptions, that he was just going for a second interview, but his mother had gotten that look in her eyes - the one that meant arguing would be a waste of time.
Jericho appeared in the doorway. “The carriage is ready whenever you are.”
“I could just ride,” Finn said. “It’s not that far.”
“You’re being summoned by the king for a week-long interview as a potential consort candidate,” his mother said firmly. “You’re not arriving on horseback like you’re going to help someone fix their barn.”
“I like helping people fix their barns.”
“We know, dear.” She folded the last shirt and added it to the bag. “But this is different. This is important.”
“Fixing barns is important, too,” Finn muttered, but he let his mother finish packing.
Jericho walked with him down to where the carriage waited. The driver was loading Finn’s bags - plural, because his mother had insisted that one bag just wasn’t going to do - while servants gathered to watch.
“Nervous?” Jericho asked.
“I’m absolutely terrified,” Finn admitted. “What if I mess this up completely? What if the king realizes within an hour that this was a mistake?”
“Then you come home and go back to fixing roofs. No harm done.”
Except there would be harm, Finn thought. Because now that he’d let himself consider the possibility he could be with the king, now that he’d allowed that tiny seed of hope to take root, going back would feel like failure. Like he’d had a chance at something extraordinary and proven too ordinary to handle it.
“What if I like him even more after a week?” Finn asked quietly. “What if this actually works, and I end up completely out of my depth?”
“Then you’ll figure it out. Like you always do.” Jericho squeezed his shoulder. “Stop borrowing trouble. Just go, be yourself, and see what happens. That’s all anyone can do.”
The carriage door stood open, waiting. Finn could climb in, let himself be driven to the castle, and spend a week with a man who made him laugh and scared him in equal measure. Or he could call the whole thing off, send a polite letter, retreat to the safety of his familiar life.
Don’t overthink this,Darragh had written.
Finn climbed into the carriage.
Chapter Seven
Darragh watched from his office window as the carriage rolled through the castle gates. He’d been checking periodically for the past hour, telling himself it was just common courtesy and nothing to do with the bundle of nerves in his gut.
And yes, that was a lie, obviously. But Darragh didn’t have a problem lying to himself, especially when he already knew the truth.
“He’s here,” Helena said from behind him.
“I can see that.”
“Are you going to greet him at the door like an overeager puppy, or shall we maintain some dignity?”
Darragh turned to glare at her. “I’m the king. I don’t greet guests at the door.”
“Unless they’re merchants arriving at the harbor.”
