Episode 12 On That Note
On That Note
Elowyn watches in relief when Pera returns with Cerian and Arisanna. Hushed whispers and knowing smiles flit throughout the banquet hall as people glance at Elowyn’s brother and new sister.
Elowyn ignores them all.
The truth is, Cerian ran.
Again.
All his life, that’s been his pattern. When something challenges his ability to cope, he disappears.
At least he didn’t run far this time. And he took Arisanna with him.
Or she followed him.
In any case, they ran together.
And now it’s time to cut the glorious cake servants just wheeled in on some kind of cart.
“It’s part of the tradition,” Rominy whispers in her ear. “The bride and groom cut the cake together...and feed a bite to each other with their fingers.” His face turns pink as he says it.
“I see. This sounds sticky. And delicious.”
Soon, the two couples stand on opposite sides of the cake, and someone hands Rominy a dull knife. There’s one for Cerian as well.
At least people will be looking at both couples, so Cerian won’t have all eyes on him. He won’t be happy about getting his fingers sticky, though.
“I think we’re supposed to do this together,” Rominy whispers.
Right. Elowyn lays her hand over his as he presses the blade into the sugary confection. It looks spongy and springy inside, and Elowyn’s mouth waters.
Once their small slice is on a plate, she glances at her brother to see how he’s doing.
He’s scowling again. He looks as if he’d rather hurl the cake across the room than eat it.
“Ready?” Rominy holds a small square of the cake in his hand. “We’re supposed to do it at the same time.”
“Oh! Sorry.” She picks up her own bit of the white sweet bread and glances at Cerian once more. His hand hovers over their slice of cake as if he can’t bring himself to touch it.
Arisanna is speaking to him in Elvish, though Elowyn can’t make out her words.
They need a diversion.
Hopefully, Rominy will forgive her for this.
Just as she’s about to slide the cake into his mouth, she smears it across his face instead.
The room goes silent as Rominy stares at her in shock.
Everyone is staring at her.
Which means they’re not looking at Cerian.
Elowyn laughs nervously as she meets Rominy’s gaze. His hand still hovers near her lips, poised to place that delicious morsel on her tongue.
“You little imp!” Rominy’s eyes twinkle as he licks his lips. “I can’t believe you did that.”
Before she can respond, he smears cake across her face to match his.
“Oh, stars above,” Rominy’s mother mutters nearby, but laughter flows freely from Elowyn’s cake-covered mouth.
“This is delicious,” she says as she licks her lips.
“Oh dear.” Rominy sucks in a mouthful of air between his teeth. “I think I got it in your hair.”
She just laughs harder.
“Here, let me get it out for you.” He wipes at it with a napkin. “Nope. That just made it worse. I’m getting it everywhere. I think it’s in my hair now, too. How did I manage that?”
He moves to dab at a bit of icing on her gown but apparently thinks better of it.
“We might need to hop in the shower to get it all off,” he murmurs.
Then he turns bright red, and Elowyn can feel herself heating, too. All the way to the tips of her pointed ears.
Rominy sputters. “Not...er...that is—”
“On that note, I think it’s time for our happy couples to retire,” King Gerault announces as his own mirth shines in his eyes. Queen Yalisa looks less amused.
When Elowyn catches Cerian’s eye, he mouths a thank-you, and she nods.
Before she knows what’s happening, she and Rominy have been shuffled into the corridor as Cerian and Arisanna appear behind them. Elowyn looks awkwardly up at Rominy as she tries not to transfer the sugary mess onto anything else.
He only hesitates a moment before taking her sticky hand in his own. “Come on.”
Elowyn trails behind him to what she can only assume is his chamber as his hand grips hers. When they reach a large wooden door, he stops, and for a moment, they just stand there.
Eventually, Elowyn speaks. “Is this your—”
“Yes.” His voice comes out high, and he clears his throat before repeating the word at a more normal octave.
“Are we going inside, or are you just showing me the door? I understand humans often have separate—”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
He takes a deep breath before reaching for the doorknob with his sticky fingers. “These are...our chambers.” He pushes the door open, and she follows him inside.
The plentiful wood accents remind Elowyn of the human king’s study as she takes in the room.
A sofa and some chairs sit near a hearth, and a small table for two occupies one corner.
Across the room is a set of glass doors that appear to lead to a balcony, and framing the hearth are two more wooden doors.
“So...here we are. I—” Rominy hurries to pick a discarded article of clothing off the floor before frowning at his sticky hands and rolling his eyes. “Wow, I am a disaster. Sorry, I should have tidied up more.”
“It’s hardly a mess.” Other than the shirt in his hand, the room appears practically spotless. “I like it. It’s cozy.”
He exhales as though relieved and nods. “Good. I didn’t have much time to get it ready for you, though the servants aired out your room and set it all to rights.”
So she will have her own chamber. “It’s lovely. Is one of those doors mine?”
“Yes.” He steps toward the door on the left. “This one is yours.”
He uses the shirt to avoid getting frosting on the doorknob as he pushes the door open to reveal a large bed with four posts. There’s a small desk with a mirror near a window and a few tables and chests scattered around the bed.
“This is all for me? Or do we share?”
His heart is already racing and has been since they left the wedding feast, but it thumps wildly now. “This is all yours. Mine is through the other door.”
She nods. “And is there a water closet?”
“Yes. Sorry. It’s between our chambers. My parents each get their own, but I’m afraid we’ll have to share that.
There’s a joint closet as well.” He gestures toward two doors along one wall, and she pokes her head inside the far one.
It’s similar to the water closet in her guest chamber last night, but there’s a tub with claw-shaped feet in addition to a large shower enclosure and two sinks.
“This is quite grand,” she says as she takes it all in.
He opens the door on the other side of the room and tosses the soiled shirt into what must be his own bedchamber before turning a copper crank above one of the sinks.
“Let me wash my hands, and then I’ll let you be so you can clean up.”
“What about you?”
His hands still in the stream of water, and she realizes how her words must have sounded to him. As if she was inviting him to wash up while she does.
“I’ll be fine until you’re done. Goodnight.” The words spill from his lips so quickly she can barely understand him, and then he’s gone.
Pretty much as Pera speculated.
A smile spreads across her face at his discomfort, and she catches her reflection in the mirror and bursts into laughter. Frosting cakes her lips and chin, and there’s even some on her nose and in her hair, where Rominy seems to have done an excellent job of smearing it everywhere.
After washing her own hands, she heads to their shared closet to hunt for clean clothes as she grins at the thought of another glorious shower.
Cerian watches Elowyn disappear with her new binding partner as his stomach twists in knots, and the queen’s words from earlier about Arisanna following his lead run rampant through his head.
Surely Arisanna isn’t expecting him to—whistling wind, this is awkward.
Is he supposed to take her back to his chamber or accompany her to her own set of rooms?
Perhaps he can walk her to her chamber and then make a hasty retreat.
If only that were an option.
“Shall we?” Arisanna asks.
He eyes her warily. “Shall we what?”
“Shall we retire?”
At least no one followed them into the corridor.
“I’m not sure where we’re supposed to go,” he admits in Elvish just in case a wedding guest overhears.
“To your chamber, of course. Unless you don’t want me there...” Her brows come together in a look of uncertainty as she waits for him to do something.
“Wouldn’t you rather sleep in your own bed?” he blurts out.
She opens her mouth and then closes it again before trying once more. “It would be highly unusual for us to part ways on our wedding night.”
He assumed as much. “I meant that it makes more sense for us to go back to your chamber.”
“Oh. I suppose it does. But all your things are in your chamber.”
“Aren’t all your things in yours?”
“I’m honestly not sure. The servants may have moved some of my things to your room and packed up the rest. We are leaving tomorrow.”
“Just pick a place so we can get out of this corridor,” he begs, and she nods.
“Let’s check your room first. It’s closer. And that’s probably where everyone expects us to be.”
With a curt nod, Cerian strides toward his chamber, and she follows. All too soon, they’re alone in his sitting room again.
He watches with raised brows as Arisanna heads straight for his sleeping room. What is she doing? Should he follow her? Or wait out here?
“My traveling clothes for tomorrow are in here,” she calls to him. “Well.”
Well, what? He pokes his head through the door and discovers her holding some sort of sheer gown.
Whistling wind. He should have stayed in the other room.