Page 35 of A Filling of Fables and Firelight

He didn’t argue, especially when her help meant that his arm was looped over her shoulders and her side was tucked into his as she gently assisted him in moving the few feet from his chair to the divan. She helped him lay back, fluffing the pillows for his head and carefully arranging his legs so that he didn’t have to pull them up himself.

“You would have been better off staying in bed this morning,” she remarked as she gently brushed his hair from his forehead. He resisted the urge to close his eyes at her touch.

“Probably. But then the challenge would have come to me, and I would prefer to keep Yasmin as far away from my room as possible.”

She chuckled as she drew away and retrieved the abandoned papers. “Fair enough.” She settled onto the floor in front of the divan, close enough that if he moved his hand just a few inches, he could run his fingers through her soft hair. “Now, what am I looking at?”

Chapter Eighteen

RANA

Rana scanned the top sheet of the bundle in her hands. She had helped Dan enough with the shop’s bookkeeping to know a budget when she saw one, though this was far more diverse than what she was accustomed to working with. “Are you planning a party?”

Kamaran snorted. “Something like that. These are the other proposed wedding budgets.”

“Oh.” Her heart, which had only just returned to normal, stuttered. She blinked.

I shouldn’t be surprised. The end goal of this whole contest is for him to find a wife. Of course there would be wedding planning at some point. He might be my friend now—something I never could have guessed—but he was never mine to keep.

“I know you’re already done with your part, but I was hoping you would be willing to read just the final budgets for me. There was so much back and forth that I’m not entirely sure what’s in each of them. I finished meeting with Aliyah just before coming here, so hers should be first.”

Rana tapped the side of her thumb against the papers. “Am I even allowed to see this?”

“Unless you’re planning on using this information for sabotage, I don’t see why not. The judges will be the ones making the final decision, but they will take my opinion into account—an opinion I can’t give them if I don’t know what’s in there.”

She rolled her head on the cushion so she could look him in the eyes. “How do you know I won’t make something up to unfairly influence your decision?”

He lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t. I suppose I’m trusting that you’re too honorable to take advantage of my weakness.”

Rana sighed dramatically. “Well, when you say it like that, now I have to behave.” She returned her attention to the papers and cleared her throat. “So, this is Aliyah’s. I’ll just read down the page, but let me know if I’m going too fast or you want me to stop.”

“Well, of the three of these, Nour’s is the most reasonable.” Rana set the papers on the floor beside her and laced her fingers together, stretching out her arms and upper back. “Sorry,” she added quickly, realizing her mistake. “I probably should let you come to your own conclusions. Actually, scratch that. There’s no way I’m letting you think that paying 10 gold for a dress is in any way reasonable, much less the 20 that Yasmin proposes.”

“It’s not?”

She turned, propping her elbow on the divan cushion and leaning her cheek on her hand. “Absolutely not. You can get morgina silk imported all the way from Helyos for less than half that, and it’s far more labor-intensive to produce. My guess is that Yasmin has a certain silk merchant she’s trying to placate.”

Kamaran leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “You’re probably right. Any other words of wisdom?”

Rana shrugged. “Not any that should sway your decision. Like I said: Nour’s is the most reasonable one of the bunch, which is likely because she has connections in the Merchant’s Guild. All of them could be trimmed by either simplifying or choosing different vendors, but it all comes down to a matter of taste. Speaking of.” She lifted her eyebrows teasingly. “Did you really consent to wearing peridot?”

He cracked open one eye. “I don’t know. Did I?”

“According to one of the plans.”

“I’m guessing by your face that it’s not a good thing?”

“Again, it’s up to your taste.” She studied him for a moment, her eyes running over the lines of his face that were becoming so familiar and dear. “But light green really isn’t your color.”

“Oh?” Both eyes were open now, and his lips twitched with amusement. “What is my color, then?”

“Jewel tones,” she answered without hesitation. “Or warmer colors. For your wedding, I would say either a cream or dark blue.”

“You’ve given this a lot of thought.”

“Don’t read too much into it, Your Majesty. I spend a lot of time thinking about fabric.”

“So I’ve noticed.” His face softened, and the warm glow of unguarded admiration in his eyes made Rana’s breath catch. She was frozen in place, trapped by the impossible idea of something more between them that was held just out of reach, kept at bay by the heartbreaking reality that his future wife’s name was somewhere in the stack of papers in her hand.