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My throat felt oddly thick. No one had ever said that to me before. I looked at my feet and told myself I wasn’t going to cry.
“Marry me.”
My head came up. “What?”
He colored, as if he’d shocked himself nearly as much as me. “I, ah, meant to lead into that rather more elegantly.”
I gaped at him but managed to croak: “You don’t even know me.”
“I know that you are bold, intelligent, and kind.” His voice, which had started unsteadily, grew more confident as he spoke, until he was listing off reasons like you’d categorize a horse’s assets. His gaze dropped briefly to my lips, and for a moment blood pounded in my ears, but then he looked away and I realized of course desire wouldn’t feature on his list. Why would it, when I was ordinary and human, and he had fae beauties of every house vying for his attention? Why did I even care?
He continued: “I know that you do not lust after the throne for power’s sake. That you would rescue a helpless creature if it was in your power to do so, even at some cost to yourself. That puts you ahead of all the other candidates. I have to marry someone, and I have very little time to make that choice. Good marriages have been built on less.”
I stared at him. He seemed perfectly serious. “You want to tweak everyone’s noses for forcing you into this,” I said slowly. It was the only plausible reason I could think of, and never mind his pretty words.
“Ah…yes,” he admitted. “But it will also avoid giving power over to any of the twelve houses over another, which is a greatly desirable outcome. We exist peaceably because we are in balance. If I were to choose your sister Acantha, or the Sweetgrass heir, or any of the other favorites…”
“Be still, my beating heart. And what do I get out of this?” I took refuge in flippancy. It was obvious what I got out of this.
“I am a king,” he said stiffly. “You would be queen of the Golden Wood, with the associated luxuries and powers. But also, if you are bound to me, it will unbind you from this manor. You will be free of your dawn-curse. Not freedom in its entirety, but freedom from that, at least.”
“I already said I’m not holding you to that debt.”
“I know. But—will you consider it?” His wings shifted restlessly. “I must go. I will see you tonight?” He remembered to make it a question rather than a command right at the end of the sentence. And then he was gone.
ROYAL LOVERS’ TIFF?was the headline of the morning’s gossip sheet. No one was sure who wrote them—Rose thought it was enterprising pixies with a handpress. Lord Bloodthorn made a point to magically set the papers on fire whenever he saw them, but the ladies of the household had long learned how to disguise them to avoid this.
Acantha had her nose buried in the report—disguised as an improving work of history—when I came across her later that morning. She was muttering to herself.
“How are you, Cinders?” Lady Bloodthorn asked me with a smile. There was an unusual solicitousness in her manner, and I wondered if it was driven by guilt about disowning me in casual conversation last night.
Acantha flung the paper sideways in an abrupt display of disgust. I picked it up and began to grin. Apparently, I, or rather “the masked lady,” was Tawhiri’s old flame, come to show my displeasure at his planning to marry somebody else. I found myself reading over the mundane details of the rest of his evening. He had danced only once with each of the scions of the twelve houses and excused himself after that duty was discharged.
“Who was the lady?” I couldn’t resist asking.
“No one knows,” Acantha said. “Lowborn, clearly, behaving in such a way. Probably Tawhiri told her he was ashamed to see her and that’s why she left.”
“He didn’t look ashamed,” Rose murmured. Acantha scowled at her.
“Now, now, girls!” Lady Bloodthorn soothed. “It matters not. I’m sure we shan’t see her again. It was vulgar of her to come, of course, but I’m sure that’s all done with now.”
“Do you like him?” I asked Acantha later when Lady Bloodthorn was safely out of earshot.
She frowned. “Who?”
“The king.”
She shrugged. “He’s handsome, powerfully magical, and rules the Golden Wood. What’s not to like?”
“But if he weren’t? What if he were a, a humble carpenter or something? Would you still like him?”
Acantha laughed at me. “Oh, Cinders. Of course I’m not going to marry a carpenter.” Her eyes grew wicked, and she checked to make certain we were alone. “Even if I might dally with a handsome one. After I’m married, of course.”
I blushed.
When the partyleft for Second Night, I retreated to my attic with mixed feelings. Another dress lay on my bed, silver this time, and a white mask decorated with tui feathers. Tawhiri clearly had a theme he liked, and he was sticking to it.
My arrival was different on Second Night. Whispers sprang up immediately. People stared, envious and wondering, and I once again found a discordant thrill in their reaction. If only they knew I was human.
