Episode 44
A Perilous Moment
Cerian tries to read every expression crossing Arisanna’s face as she looks at him across the table.
Clearly, it’s a skill he has yet to master. What is she thinking?
What was he thinking?
Offering to cut the flaming sweet bread together seemed like a good way to make amends for the mess he made of their binding feast, but now it sounds inane. She doesn’t want to reenact that mortifying scene.
“We feed each other a bite of cake,” she breathes. Is her heart racing again?
Perhaps he didn’t misstep.
But he needs to be closer to feed her anything.
He can do this. Maybe if he focuses on something besides her, that will help keep his fire magic at bay.
The train, perhaps? With its incessant noise and acrid odor?
Images of her lying across his lap on the train in their heartlanding flit through his memory—her in that scandalous dress—and he shakes his head.
That’s not helping.
“Why are you shaking your head?” she asks softly.
He stares at her for a moment. He’s definitely not going to tell her he was thinking about her legs.
His hands tingle, and he groans. That’s not helping, either.
“What’s wrong?” Her brows knit as she gazes at him.
Pressing his lips into a thin line, he lifts his hand and creates a fireball in his palm. Hopefully, she’ll get the message without him having to speak the words.
“Oh. Well. I hope that means you’re thinking about me.”
Is she trying not to smile? Whistling wind. Is she enjoying this?
“You find this amusing?” he asks.
“That you can’t stop thinking about me, and it’s lighting you on fire? Why would that be amusing?” She feigns innocence, but her mouth twitches, and her eyes sparkle. “Perhaps you should focus on something less...fire-inducing.”
“I’ve tried.”
“I’m that distracting? I’ll take that as a compliment.”
She’s definitely enjoying this.
“I wonder how Rominy and Elowyn are managing,” she says. “They must be falling in love, too, right? Rominy has many excellent qualities.”
Cerian stares at Arisanna in dismay.
“Does Elowyn have fire magic? I wonder if she catches fire every time my brother smiles at her.”
Cerian shoots from the bench, trying to banish every thought filling his head of Elowyn falling in love. At least she has water magic, too. That would be useful. The very idea makes him groan.
“I’m sure Rominy will fall completely in love with her,” Arisanna continues. “He’ll probably adore her, and it will be a sappy, disgusting thing to watch. I’m sad we’re not there to see it. Aren’t you?”
Cerian turns to Arisanna in horror. “Stop...just...please stop.”
“Your hand isn’t on fire anymore.” An impish smile fills her face, and he gapes at her.
Whistling wind. She is...evil.
“Please don’t stab me with those forks.” She continues grinning at him as he glances at the forks he brought along on his flight across the room. “Shall I talk about my mother next?” Arisanna asks. “Did you know—”
“Stop. That won’t be necessary.” He hurries back to the table, lowering himself to the bench beside her.
“If you insist, but it’s a good story. I can tell you later after we—”
He cuts her off with a forkful of flaming sweet bread. It was not as purposeful as he imagined, but as long as he doesn’t have to hear whatever story she was about to regale him with, it will suffice.
Arisanna’s eyes alight with mirth as she chews and swallows the sweet bread. “We were supposed to feed each other at the same time.”
“It was a perilous moment requiring action,” he says.
“What? You don’t want to hear about my mother?”
“No. Nor do I wish to imagine my sister being romanced by your brother.”
“It worked, though, didn’t it?”
“Far too well. Now show me how this is done.” He hands her the other fork, and she shakes her head as her lips tilt into another smile.
“We aren’t supposed to use forks.”
“In the elf version, we do. And we don’t smear cake on each other’s faces.”
Arisanna bursts into laughter at his words. “I think this is the Cerian version, not the elf version. I saw your sister plaster my brother with cake. It must have been a chore to get all that frosting off. I wonder if Rominy helped—”
Cerian stuffs more sweet bread in her mouth. “I don’t wish to discuss Elowyn.”
After Arisanna swallows, she laughs again. “Fine. I’ll stop torturing you. For now.”
Relief fills him, and he nods. “Together?”
“Together.”
They each take another forkful of sweet bread, and this time, he waits so they can feed each other at the same time. His hands are already warming again with the look she sends him as they slide their forks into each other’s mouths.
After they both swallow, she smiles up at him. “Thank you. That was perfect.”
“I’m sorry I made a mess of our binding feast.”
“I’m not. This moment was far better than that one ever could have been.”
Briefly, his eyes dart to her lips before he clears his throat and looks away.
He needs to speak with Father about his fire magic. And he needs to do so soon.
As they exit the cafe after polishing off their mountains of waffles and strawberries and whipped cream, Elowyn smiles in anticipation of the next leg of their journey.
While they ate, Rominy told her all about the aerial trams that run on cables high above the ground, and the thought of flying through the air beside him thrills her.
When they step onto the cobbled street, he points to the right, and she looks up at the snow-capped mountains looming nearby. She can just make out the cable with its massive supports disappearing between the hills.
She’s about to say something when a rock flies toward her and catches the sleeve of her gown.
“Elf vermin!” Spittle splatters across her skirt as she freezes at the sneering human voice.
Before she can process what happened, two guards flank her, blocking her view of the man who spat at her.
“Let me go!” Rominy flails as his own guards try to hold him back, but he frees himself and takes off with his guards rushing after him.
“Stay here, Your Highness,” one of the remaining guards says to Elowyn.
Torn, she cranes her neck around the guard to see Rominy flinging himself at the man who spat at her.
Oh dear.
They scuffle on the cobblestones before Rominy’s guards pull them apart.
“That elf is your future queen,” Rominy spits out as he struggles against the guard. Is his lip bleeding?
“Your Highness, we should go,” the guard says to him.
“I din’t realize who you was.” Terror flashes across the man’s face. “Forgive me, Your Highness. I had no mind toward the news you’d hitched yourself to an elf.”
Elowyn can barely follow the man’s speech. Is that even Nunian? Some slang dialect, perhaps?
“The elves are not our enemies,” Rominy says. “Not anymore.”
“An elf killed my pa, Your Highness. Forgive me for being suspicious. I din’t know you done fell in love with one.”
So that’s what’s going on. Elowyn’s heart goes out to the man, and she ducks around her own guards before they can stop her.
“Your Highness!”
Rominy turns at the guard’s cry. “Elowyn, stay back.”
The human man eyes her with disdain, and she sighs. She can’t blame him for his rancor.
“I din’t mean no harm, Your Highness,” he says to Rominy. “I got bairns at home depending on me.”
Bairns? Is he speaking of younglings?
“Then you shouldn’t have attacked my wife.” Rominy’s eyes flash, and he struggles against the guard holding him in place.
Whistling wind, Rominy is angry. Pera gets that same look in his eyes when elves insult Mother for being low born. Or when they sneer at Elowyn or her brothers for having a low-born mother.
Not that it happens often. Most of Lostariel has accepted their low-born queen, though it took time to win over some of the high-born elves.
“Rominy, it’s all right,” Elowyn says softly. “Let him go.”
“He threw a rock at you!”
“He has every right to be angry.”
“Elowyn, I can’t just—”
“Please. I came to help create peace between our kingdoms. This is how we start. By forgiving each other.”
Rominy looks from her to the man, whose eyes have grown wide. A crowd has gathered around them, some whispering about the spectacle before them, but Elowyn focuses her attention on the man.
“I’m sorry an elf took your father, sir,” she says.
“I know an apology means little and won’t bring him back, but I offer it anyway.
To this day, my own father has nightmares about the battle that took so many lives on both sides.
That’s why I’m here. To foster peace between our people so no other.
..bairns will have to grow up without their fathers. ”
Everyone stares at her, including Rominy.
“Please.” She lays a hand on Rominy’s arm. “Let him go.”
“Elowyn—”
“Please. For me.”
Rominy breathes out slowly and turns to the guard restraining the man. “Let him go. But if he ever hurts my wife again, he’ll see the inside of a jail cell, and he’ll be there for a very long time.”
“Of course, Your Highness.” The guard releases the man, and with a last fleeting glance at Elowyn, the man takes off down the street.
“Thank you.” Elowyn lifts her lips to Rominy’s face and plants a kiss on his cheek.
Before Rominy can respond, his guard presses them to walk. “We need to secure you both while we send for a doctor.”
A doctor?
Rominy’s face pales as he looks at Elowyn’s arm. “Elowyn, you’re...you’re bleeding.”