Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
Elowen was the first to arrive for the projected outing to the floating gardens. The appointed courtyard was empty when she came to a stop by the central fountain, a servant hurrying on to alert the stables that she was ready for her horse.
Elowen drew her riding gloves between her hands in a rhythmic motion, her eyes unseeing as they stared at the tinkling water of the fountain.
She hadn’t slept well, and her thoughts were distracted.
But her awareness still latched on to the water’s steady flow, and she felt the stirring in her mind that told her she’d identified the magic being created by the water’s movement.
She didn’t attempt to take hold of it, and not just because it wouldn’t do to reveal her secrets in a public place.
It would have been pointless given, as with all sources of perpetual movement within the castle walls, the Dust produced by this fountain was protected by a magical barrier.
One couldn’t have magic leaking freely throughout the castle grounds for any passerby to take hold of, no matter how small the trickle produced by the fountain might be.
But magic craft was a sore spot she didn’t need to dwell on right now.
She had plenty of other grievances clamoring for her attention, such as the unintended group outing.
She hadn’t minded Sophia joining them. In fact, a cowardly part of her had welcomed the insulating presence of her friend.
But that was because Sophia was good at melting into the background when necessary. Bertrand was another matter entirely.
A scowl crossed Elowen’s face at the thought of the viscount.
She was miserably conscious that the dinner hadn’t gone as well as she would have liked, and she laid the blame at his feet.
Bertrand had always been irksome, but she’d never seen him as brazen as he’d been the night before.
She would never have dreamed he would be so insulting to the foreign prince’s face.
What could he possibly hope to achieve by embarrassing her and insulting Prince Theodore?
Prince Theodore.
Her thoughts turned yet again to the Siqualian prince. She wished she’d had more success figuring him out. But she supposed there would be time enough for that. They had the rest of their lives, after all.
The thought didn’t excite her, but at least it didn’t fill her with dread.
He hadn’t shown much warmth—all right, he hadn’t shown any warmth.
She wished he’d given some indication of admiring her.
She was used to overblown compliments, weary of them even, but still, the absence of admiration had been notable.
It was probably vain of her to think it, but she’d been dressed to her very best, and she hadn’t been able to detect even a flicker of appreciation in his gaze when he laid eyes on her.
She was being foolish. He’d been in no way unkind, and at least he was pleasant to look at it.
She pictured in her mind his dark hair, straight nose, and slightly pointed chin.
His appeal wasn’t primarily because of his features, she decided.
It was in his bearing—his stride, his unruffled posture, his steady gaze.
He wore his confidence like a well-fitted coat, and it was attractive.
If only he wasn’t so…she winced to echo Bertrand in her mind, but…stiff.
“It’s strange to see an empty fountain.”
Elowen started at the voice, spinning around to see Prince Theodore himself behind her.
He was dressed in a thick, embroidered coat of a deep blue, the garment perfectly fitted to his muscular form, with dark breeches and tall riding boots.
One of his guards had accompanied him, but the man slid discreetly past, following her servant toward the stables.
Left alone with the prince, Elowen smoothed her skirts self-consciously, feeling as discomposed as if he’d been able to read her thoughts about him.
“Good morning, Princess Elowen.” The prince smiled, the expression friendly, but in a cautious way. His eyes didn’t crinkle at the corners.
“Good morning,” she said. “And please, call me Elowen.”
He studied her for a moment, then nodded, his smile marginally more relaxed. “Thank you. Feel free to call me Theo.”
Theo. She felt a flicker of surprise.
Apparently he could read it, because his smile turned slightly rueful. “Even stiff princes have nicknames, you know,” he informed her. “Theo is what my friends and siblings call me. My parents, too, but only if they’re particularly pleased with me.”
Elowen fought back the color rushing to her cheeks.
His use of the word stiff was an uncomfortable reminder of her embarrassment from the night before, but at the same time, it made her like him more.
He’d surprised her for the second time—she hadn’t expected him to make a light joke of the gossip about him.
“That sounds pleasant,” she informed him. “I don’t think the thought of giving me a nickname has ever crossed Patrick’s mind.”
Prince Theodore—Theo—tilted his head slightly to one side, his expression searching. “You and your brother aren’t close?”
“No, I didn’t mean—” Elowen stumbled over her words, alarmed that she’d cast her family, and thus the kingdom, in a poor light. “Patrick and I are very amicable. We don’t. I mean, we’ve never—”
“It’s all right,” Theo cut her off, his tone gentle but still managing to remain light. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, and you have no need to explain anything to me.”
Elowen drew a deep breath, deciding to take the opening. “Actually,” she said, “I do wish to explain something to you. I’m afraid the wrong impression was given last night. The incident with the watchtower yesterday was nothing but an inconvenient accident, and the timing was purely…coincidental.”
“Of course it was coincidental.” Theo raised an eyebrow. “What else would it be?”
“Well, nothing else, of course.” Elowen fidgeted uncomfortably, starting to wish she’d never brought it up. “I just…Lord Bertrand spoke out of turn at dinner, and I didn’t want you to…”
Her voice trailed off as the stiff politeness returned to Theo’s face.
“To get the wrong impression?” he finished for her. “Not at all.”
Elowen felt herself deflate. She could see she’d made it worse. She should have left it alone. Why must Bertrand be such an interfering nuisance? She bit back the urge to keep trying to explain herself, wise enough to know she would just embroil herself further.
“What…what did you mean about the fountain?” she asked instead.
“The fountain?” He was politely bemused.
“When you first arrived, you said it was empty,” she explained, glancing at the still-tinkling water. “It doesn’t look empty to me.”
“Oh, that.” Theo relaxed a little. “At the palace at home in Sindon, all of our fountains are infested with anzu birds.”
She stared at him, amusement trickling in to leaven her embarrassment. “Infested?”
He smiled, although his eyes still didn’t crinkle. “Inhabited would be a politer term, wouldn’t it? They’re much admired—and they know it—but personally, I find them a nuisance.”
“Why?” she demanded, fascinated.
She’d never seen an anzu bird, as they were primarily found in Siqual, but she’d seen pictures.
They were a bit bigger than cats, but only their heads resembled that creature.
The rest of their bodies bore the shape of birds.
They were creatures of magic, naturally—no mundane animal would boast such an illogical configuration of form.
“You know how all anzu birds spout either fire or water?” said Theo, answering her question with another.
Elowen nodded. “So I’ve read.”
“Well, they make quite a show of it,” Theo explained. “The castle ones, at least. They’ve become very tame, and they expect an audience. It can be tedious, because if people don’t stop to admire them when the fancy takes them to put on a display, they get cranky and make a fuss.”
“What kind of a fuss?” Elowen asked, trying and failing to picture Theo breaking his purposeful stride through his own castle to politely applaud a display by a conceited anzu bird.
“Generally they set things on fire,” he said matter-of-factly. “It’s a terrible inconvenience.”
Elowen stared at him. “Why are they allowed to keep living in the castle, then?”
“We’ve become used to them, I suppose.” Theo shrugged. “They’re beloved—most people seem to enjoy their displays. Besides, if we tried to remove them, I imagine there would be a great deal more setting things on fire.”
“Goodness.” Elowen didn’t quite know what to say.
All she could think of was her private thoughts earlier, wishing that Theo had shown some admiration for her the night before, when she’d been all dressed up to impress him.
Had she been preening, like the anzu birds he described?
Would he find her tedious if he knew her thoughts?
“Elowen.” Theo’s voice had turned more serious, and Elowen’s eyes flew up to his. “I came early in the hope of some private speech.”
“So did I,” she said quickly, and she thought he looked pleased.
“It’s a little awkward, isn’t it?” His voice was the softest she’d heard it. “There’s inevitably a lot of pressure on our meeting.”
Her smile was rueful. “Yes. I suppose there is.”
“I don’t know how to avoid that,” he said frankly. “But I hope you won’t let it trouble you. We’ll be married in a matter of weeks, and—”
“Hold on.” Elowen raised a hand to stop the flow of calmly confident words. “Who says it will be within a few weeks? The wedding date isn’t set yet.”
Theo frowned. “I understood that was merely a practical matter, with arrangements waiting for my arrival. I anticipated that the date of the wedding would be set as soon as the betrothal ceremony is complete.”
Elowen lowered her eyes, her courage failing her under his scrutiny.
“I haven’t heard talk of a specific date.”