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His shy, secretive smile nearly stops my heart.
A horn blares, demanding attention within the core of the celebration. Fae grow silent and still as the main doors open at the top of the stairs leading down into the party.
All the world narrows to that threshold as Sigurd fills its frame with Moria at his side.
He came. He’s here.
My skin tingles. It’s hard to breathe. With Lysandir at my side and his sudden revelation, I didn’t even feel the tug on our bond vanish.
Queen of Air.
I turn to the prince, but the space next to me is empty. My shoulders droop. I don’t have to search the party to know he’s gone. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.
Conversation resumes as Moria descends the stairs. She carries off her outfit with a confidence few could muster. How she keeps the sides of the dress in place is a mystery. I wager it’s not tape, or no earthly variety anyway. Everyone dressed for the occasion tonight, even Sigurd. A silver crown twines through his dark hair. His outfit is the most elaborate I’ve seen, with a grand coat with silver stitching that shimmers and catches the light. A cape of some sort drapes down his back. I can’t even see the rest, but the way he holds himself and scans the crowd with a mirthful gaze paints him king above all more than clothes ever could.
The crowd waits for him, glued to his form, but he’s yet to move other than to turn his head.
He’s looking for me. Breath catches in my throat. I move to the edge of one of the pools of light glimmering from the floating orbs.
I know the moment he finds me. Our gazes lock. He goes still.
And then he’s in motion, gliding down the stairs and into the crowd that blocks him from view. I can’t make myself move. In my mind, I see myself racing toward him, my heels tapping on the marble. I squeeze through the press of fae, craning my neck and bouncing on my toes to see above their shoulders. The crowd parts, and I leap into his arms.
It’s a grand vision, something from a movie, but I can’t make it happen.
Queen of Air.
I glance over my shoulder and confirm the worst. There’s nowhere to run. As much as I yearn to see him, I dread it. It tears me in two, pulling, pushing, and leaving me frozen where I stand.
“Wren.”
One word and suddenly my fears are gone. There’s nowhere I would rather be.
Sigurd stands before me, only an arm’s length away. Here, in the flesh, after days away. Other fae are a blur of intrusive color lingering just behind him.
Everything I’d planned and hoped to say flies out the window. Maybe it’s for the best since we have an audience.
Instead, I dip a low curtsy, my ankles only wobbling a little bit. “King Sigurd.”
“I believe they’re looking for you to announce the finalists.”
Oh.The word hangs on my parted lips. Of all the things I imagined he might say, that wasn’t one of them. Nor was his vacant expression or the formality with which he holds out his elbow in an invitation to loop my arm through his.
It might be a show of indifference for the crowd. But that doesn’t help my mind from thinking the worst and assuming something has changed between us without my knowing.
I loop my arm through his, savoring the little bit of closeness in my fragile heart. My shoulders are back, my head held high, but it’s all an act. The too-pleasant smile on my face is as well. One jab could shatter me. I’d fall into a million pieces in front of these fae, and no amount of my stubborn will could piece me together.
“You look stunning tonight,” he whispers as the crowd parts for us.
And just like that, he glues some of the fragile pieces together.
“Beyond compare.”
My tongue flicks out across my lips. I reach for the bird around my neck, my anchor, the only thing keeping my mind from drifting away, caught up in his praise.
“I-I showed it off to Zale before the party,” I whisper. My gaze lingers on the crowd ahead, where it should be, but it’s so hard not to look at him, only at him. “I thought it was you. I hoped it was you. I wanted…”
He releases me as we step into a clearing where the other finalists already wait. Galen is there. He meets my gaze briefly, flashing me a tight smile.
