Chapter 13 A Bear and a Bargain #2
The whole of her life, she had never seen or spoken to so many people.
But now she had done just that. She had never left the serenity of Hush Manor and its friendly mists, and suddenly she was in a castle that was ablaze with color and noise and unfamiliar smells.
She had only ever spoken to her parents, her sisters and the wyvern.
She had never spoken to a boy, let alone sat with one in the moonlight.
Demelza had no idea what she was doing, but she was doing something.
And she should be proud. Perhaps even excited.
But she had never been so far from home, nor had she ever been so far from the moon.
In the nesting tower, the moon always seemed to be within arm’s reach, and now it seemed as distant as the past.
“Are you all right?” asked Arris.
“Obviously,” said Demelza.
Arris sat up. The moonlight silvered his hair. He looked even younger in the dark. The prince reached for something beside him and Demelza tensed. He could be reaching for a dagger, a charm—
But all he drew out was some kind of pastry. It was orange and studded all over with pieces of candied ice pear. Demelza’s belly rumbled.
“Here,” he said, holding it out. “My own recipe. The flour was milled with crystallized sunbeams, and I added some saffron too. It’s meant to be—”
Demelza seized the pastry, gobbling it in two bites.
“Savored,” finished Arris. He blinked. “When was the last time you ate? I’d love to say that response is a compliment to my abilities in the kitchen, but somehow I doubt that.”
Demelza swiped at her mouth, embarrassed. When her sister Evadne flew the nest and entered the service of a king, Demelza had been terrified for her. The king had her necklace, after all. If he wanted, he could turn her into a swan at a moment’s notice. But Evadne was unfazed.
The trick is never to reveal what you lack. I tell the king I yearn to be a swan, and so he does not give it to me. Men delight in that, Demelza. They delight in the joy of withholding and it is for us to delight in their foolishness.
“I could get you some more if you’d like,” Arris said.
“I do not want any more,” said Demelza, even as her stomach growled in dissent.
“It wouldn’t be any trouble,” said Arris. “Well, perhaps a little trouble. The flour came from cave wheat near the eastern borders of the Glimmers. Most people don’t realize this but without direct sunlight, the wheat—”
“Must be sung to in the language of flames in order to grow,” finished Demelza.
She mimicked the molten speech of fire. Speaking the elements did not, as one imagined, extend to control over them.
It merely allowed for polite suggestions, which some elements acquiesced to with more generosity—like water—whereas others took offense or were often too flighty to listen properly, such as fire or air.
“That’s exactly right,” said Arris. He looked stunned. “How did you know that?”
Demelza scolded herself. She really couldn’t help it when it came to revealing bits of knowledge.
The wyvern was never impressed with her scholarship, and while her sisters and mother had feigned interest, they were not curious.
Not like her father, who would engage Demelza in conversation for hours over the translation of a single word.
“I read a lot,” said Demelza, dusting the crumbs off her dress. “It is time we talk the specifics of our bargain.”
“Oh. Yes. Very well,” said Arris. “What do you suggest?”
“A weekly report?” said Demelza. That was the sort of thing her sisters did, so it seemed fitting.
Arris nodded. “I imagine the pool will thin dramatically with tomorrow’s first trial.
I want to know why people are here, and if their reasons have changed.
Someone might want to cut out my heart one day and then change their mind the next.
Or at least one hopes.The only complication is that you’re also in the competition, so does that mean—”
“No,” said Demelza, sharp. “I only came here because this is the one place my father cannot spy into.”
“You’ve come here because your father doesn’t give you any … privacy?”
“I’m here because he wants to cut out my heart for a spell of eternal life,” said Demelza. “I am not here for your heart, nor do I have any intention of giving away mine. Ever.”
Arris fell quiet, and Demelza imagined she could see him turning over the little pieces of information she had given him.
“Well, you’re a veritas swan, so I don’t blame you,” said Arris. “Getting turned into a bird by your beloved whenever they want? Terrible.”
Now it was Demelza who stared. “How did you know that?”
“I read a lot,” said Arris, grinning. He stood up, offering his hand to her. Demelza refused it, but if Arris was offended, he didn’t show it. Instead, his smile widened.
“It seems we have a bargain, Demelza.”
Not what she expected. Not in the least. That was the thought running through her mind as she made her way back to the sleeping quarters. When she entered her room, a little box sat on her bed. Inside was a loaf of that orange bread with a small note: Just in case.