Episode 7
One Giant Cupcake
Arisanna sighs as her mother and three maids hover around her.
It all started with a soak in a tub of rosewater followed by two hours of every beauty treatment imaginable to turn her into some sort of porcelain doll in a sparkling white gown lined with freshwater pearls and a skirt nearly as wide as the door. The excessive train is longer than she is tall.
Prince Cerian will probably think a monster of silk and satin ate her for lunch.
That’s assuming he looks at her at all. He barely glanced her way when their families met this morning. And now he expects her to promise her life to him and go through this intimate heartbinding ceremony together?
She bites her cheek to stifle another sigh.
It is what it is.
“There.” Mother’s eyes glisten, and Arisanna’s heart softens. This isn’t easy for Mother, either. She waited so long for children. Now she’s parting with one of them for political reasons.
Plus the whole heartbinding thing.
“You look stunning, dear,” Mother says softly.
Arisanna studies her reflection. It may be vain to admit, but she does look lovely by human standards.
Which means little since she’s marrying an elf.
Mother shoos the maids away and fidgets with her own sleeves as she clears her throat. “Now, Arisanna. You know elven customs better than I do.”
“Yes...” Arisanna frowns. Where is Mother going with this?
“I meant for you to have...options tonight. Just in case—” Mother huffs nervously as she looks at the wall.
Ah. That’s where Mother’s going.
“Just follow his lead,” she continues. “This is a political union. You may be expected to...to...in order to seal the treaty.”
Arisanna’s face heats, and she smooths her skirt without meeting Mother’s eyes. “I see.”
“Right. Well, now that’s out of the way, shall we go?”
Arisanna exhales slowly, trying not to dwell on Mother’s words. “I suppose so.”
Elowyn gazes up into her father’s eyes as they stand alone in the small room near the entrance to the assembly hall. Arisanna and King Gerault have yet to arrive.
“You are lovely as always, El,” Pera says, and Elowyn smooths her iridescent silver gown that hangs in gentle folds to the floor.
“It’s nothing like the styles the human women wear. I hope I don’t offend anyone.”
Pera lifts her chin. “You are an elf. Embrace your new home and your human prince and his family and their customs. But never let anyone make you feel ashamed of who you are.”
Elowyn nods as a single tear drips from her eye, and Pera wipes it away.
“I’m going to miss you so much, Pera.”
“And I, you. We’ll see each other again, though. I want my half-human grandlings to know their elven grandpera.”
Elowyn’s breath hitches. “It’s a little soon to be talking about grandlings.”
Pera smiles. “Perhaps. You and your human prince seem to be getting along, though. Despite his hasty exit last night.”
“Yes. At least, I hope so. Do you know...that is...what do you think he will expect of me tonight?”
Pera glances away as the corner of his mouth turns up. “From what little I’ve observed of him, I imagine he’ll guide you into your own chamber and say goodnight as his voice comes out an octave higher than he meant it to. Then he’ll run.”
Elowyn laughs. “You’re probably right. His heart is already racing.”
“Your heartbinding will draw you closer,” Pera says. “Don’t fight it. It’s a blessing.”
Elowyn looks into her pera’s eyes. “What if he fights it?”
“Then you’ll need to be patient with him. He’ll come around in time.”
The door opens, and Elowyn gasps at the sight of Princess Arisanna in the most glorious gown Elowyn has ever seen. Suddenly, her elven attire feels even more out of place.
“Oh, Princess Elowyn,” Princess Arisanna breathes as she holds her father’s arm. “You look beautiful. I feel like a giant cupcake next to you.”
Elowyn’s smile returns, but before she can respond, a waiting attendant hurries them from the room toward the assembly hall door.
Cerian looks out over the sea of faces studying him as he stands at the front of the assembly room to take part in this spectacle, and he fights the panic threatening to overtake him.
Had he known this would be part of his binding with the human princess, he might have refused altogether.
But Mother smiles softly at him from the front row, and he knows that’s not true.
There is little he wouldn’t do for his mother despite the terror coursing through him now as he stands here with so many eyes upon him. He just needs to survive this. To keep his feet planted in this spot.
To not run.
He thinks through the coming sequence of events again just to have something other than this room full of people to focus on.
Soon, the human princess will enter through the door at the back of the assembly hall. She’ll walk toward him on her father’s arm, and then King Gerault will relinquish his daughter to Cerian’s keeping.
At least, that’s what the human queen said.
As the bride of the crown prince, Elowyn will enter last with Father.
Then vows will be exchanged, and Queen Yalisa seemed to indicate that Cerian will be expected to kiss the human princess. In front of everyone.
As if promising his life to a stranger while everyone watches isn’t enough. He has to kiss her, too?
Hopefully, he misunderstood the part about the kiss.
He should probably stop thinking of his bride as the human princess. Her name is Arisanna.
And he’s about to bind his heart fully to hers.
The music floating from a quartet of stringed instruments at the side of the assembly hall changes, and Cerian looks toward the double doors at the back of the large room.
Then she’s there on her father’s arm.
Whistling wind, what is she wearing? There’s enough fabric hanging from her slender frame to clothe his entire family.
He works hard to hide his dismay so Arisanna won’t pick up on it, but judging by the look on her face, he’s not exactly succeeding.
Ignore the dress. Focus on her face. Her rosy cheeks. The reddish-brown hair adorning her head in a crown of soft curls.
Aside from the dress, she really is...beautiful.
Her expression softens, and he exhales slowly. This is it. This woman is the other half of his heartbinding.
Hopefully, he won’t have to kiss her in front of all these people.
Just a little longer. He just needs to survive this spectacle for a little longer.
Arisanna leans on Father’s arm for support. It was impossible to miss the dismay that crossed Prince Cerian’s face before he schooled his features.
At least it was short-lived. And he’s making an effort. She smooths her own expression to match his.
They should probably pretend to tolerate each other.
Not that she loathes him. He’s just...prickly. Perhaps once they get to know each other better...
At least he’s not the crown prince with eyes on a throne and thoughts of heirs. That’s a small reprieve, at least. Surely no one expects her to consummate their unorthodox relationship tonight, despite what Mother said.
As she approaches Prince Cerian, he steps forward according to the directions he was given. He’s definitely making an effort.
With a kiss to Arisanna’s temple, Father places her hand in Prince Cerian’s. It’s warmer than she expected it to be. And Prince Cerian’s grip is firm but gentle.
Then Father takes his seat beside Mother, and Prince Cerian leads Arisanna to the right where he was standing as he waited for her. The side the elven delegation is occupying.
She dares a glance at his face and finds him studying her. His eyes are so green. Like emeralds.
If he was human—or probably any other man on his wedding day—he’d tell her she looks beautiful. Or something.
But he doesn’t.
The music hits a crescendo, and Arisanna turns to see Princess Elowyn gliding along the path Arisanna just walked. She’s gorgeous with her silver hair bringing out the silver of her gown that skims her body like a silken waterfall. Or a ray of moonlight.
Would Prince Cerian have looked at Arisanna differently if she’d appeared dressed like his sister instead of like a giant cupcake?
King Lorial whispers something in Princess Elowyn’s ear before placing her hand in Rominy’s, and soon, the two couples stand as mirror images on opposite sides of the magistrate as the music quiets.
Rominy almost stumbled when Princess Elowyn appeared. Arisanna was beautiful, of course, but Princess Elowyn stole his breath away. He’s never seen a gown like the one she wears to perfection.
“Slow, deep breaths,” Princess Elowyn whispers as the magistrate speaks to the audience. “Your heart is racing.”
“Is it?”
A smile teases at her face, and he forces his breathing to steady the way she showed him earlier. It helps. A little.
Soon, the magistrate guides Prince Cerian and then Arisanna through a series of vows about the future. Promises to be loyal and true, whatever the future holds.
With every word repeated, Rominy’s mouth grows more cottony.
Soon, he will make the same vows to the woman standing before him. Her gray eyes steady him, though, as does her own heart, and Rominy holds tighter to her hand when every urge in him tells him to bolt.
All too soon, it’s his turn to repeat the magistrate’s words. Hopefully, his voice cooperates.
Somehow, he manages to not make a fool of himself, and his part is done. He’s promised his life and himself to the elf princess before him.
A soft smile graces Princess Elowyn’s lips as she vows to honor and cherish Rominy. The slight lilt of her Elvish accent lends a lyrical quality to her words, and then it’s done.
He’s now married to Princess Elowyn of Lostariel.
The rest of the magistrate’s words blend together until he announces the kiss to seal their unions.
Princess Elowyn smiles softly and nods, and with his heart pounding, Rominy leans forward until their lips meet in a brief, chaste kiss.
When he pulls away, Princess Elowyn’s eyes twinkle to match her glittering gown, and Rominy’s lips tick up in a smile of their own.