Chapter Ten
Castien
Oleander was late to meet me. The stall was busy, packed with patrons, and I was able to partially distract myself from his absence.
But my eyes wandered to every new face that entered the stall, searching for him.
Every time I saw that it was not him entering, my shoulders slumped, and I refocused my attentions on the patron in front of me.
Acantha milled about the stall with me, assisting customers and making sure the shelves were stocked.
Customers came and went, passing beyond the curtain and returning with pleasure devices or choosing timepieces from the shelves.
It wasn’t until the early morning crowd thinned that I accepted Oleander was not coming.
After the night we’d shared, I hadn’t doubted him when he said he’d see me here.
When he did not show up at the usual time, I thought he was simply cleaning up before he saw me.
I’d seen his face at the idea of wearing the same garments he’d had on the day before.
I’d offered him a solution in the shirt I’d purchased for him, but that only addressed half the issue.
I knew that Oleander was a proud man, particularly when it came to his appearance.
After all, had he not told me it was part of the reason he’d chosen his name? He’d declared it wishful thinking, because the oleander plant was both beautiful and dangerous, and as a child, he’d dreamed of being dangerous in any way.
With how I felt now, waiting for someone who did not show, I was certain he’d gotten his wish. Feeling as I did for him was dangerous. My chest ached with loneliness.
“You’re quiet,” Acantha commented as I pocketed the coin from our last patron.
“Oleander did not come,” I explained with a sigh.
“I had thought—” My words trailed off. What had I thought?
That our attraction to one another and his sudden change in plans had meant he’d formed feelings for me?
That he’d be willing to sacrifice his dreams of marriage for someone who lived across the realm from him?
That he would be content with the dust and smoke of Gearwick after spending his life among the forests of Emberleigh?
Had I really believed that the things he told me he was seeking in a marriage would have suddenly changed since he’d gotten to know me?
“Thought what?” Acantha questioned. They leaned across the counter, resting their elbows on the wooden surface, and staring me down the way they had when we were children and I was holding secrets close to my chest.
This time, I would not allow them to pry my feelings from me. “It’s nothing.” They continued to stare at me, and I felt my will beginning to bend to their whim. “Take the day off.”
Acantha shot up. “The entire day?” They looked around the shop and down to the open logbook. There were more entries for today already than there’d been in any of the past few. What they saw as a potential challenge, I saw as a welcome distraction.
I pulled coin from the pouch and passed it to my sibling. “The entire day,” I repeated. “I only ask that you bring me something from the food stalls for a midday meal.”
Acantha pocketed the coin and sloped off, but not before offering me one last curious look.
Another hour passed.
Customers came and went, and with them, whispers and rumors. It started with one. An engagement had shaken the market to its core. There was a common elf who had somehow managed to ensnare the attentions of some renowned elf. The story stayed the same each time I heard it, though details changed.
Sometimes, the common elf in question was from Dun Steorra and sometimes from Emberleigh. Someone swore the elf’s name began with an O… or perhaps a P? Another pair of customers gossiped that the elf was one of the most beautiful men they’d ever seen with striking eyes they would never forget.
I did not make a habit of listening to gossip, but something stuck under my skin with each whisper.
It wasn’t until someone said the name Raylen that concern took hold.
Raylen was the name of the elf from the Pavilion the day before.
I’d seen the way Oleander had lit up upon seeing him.
I’d sent Oleander to converse with him. I’d watched their body language.
Oleander had hung off his every word, and he’d looked so dazed upon his return.
Had Raylen intercepted him on his way back from my cabin and proposed?
A knot formed in my stomach, and each whisper twisted it tighter.
The pieces all fit. Oleander was an elf from Emberleigh.
He had the most striking eyes I’d ever seen, eyes that would follow me in my dreams for the rest of my life.
He was the most handsome man I’d ever seen.
His beauty was breathtaking. I’d not been able to look at anyone except him since he’d come into my stall that first day.
He’d haunted me for the better part of a year when we were children.
I’d learned the names and stories of the stars after one kiss from him, simply because I wanted to impress him in my boyhood. His memory had lingered even past that.
He was a dream come true, but I was not his dream.
Raylen was.
That knot ached and spread upward to my chest.
I assisted another customer, and I tried not to think of the rumors and whispers, of the inevitable conclusion they all drew.
When my stall was empty again, I opened my leather-bound book and began to draft ideas for inventions.
I did not do well with matters of the heart.
I was a cerebral person, someone who thrived in matters of the mind and of the hands.
My sketches amounted to nothing.
“I’ve got something for you,” Acantha declared as they bound up to the table, slamming a plate in front of me followed by a folded piece of paper. “Is something wrong?”
I looked up at them, and I saw concern behind their eyes. “He never came.”
“Read that.” Acantha tapped their fingers against the paper.
My hands shook as I took it. I already knew the contents.
He was telling me of his engagement, that the moment he stopped looking, he found what he was yearning for.
He would thank me for my help, and he’d tell me that the night before had been wonderful, but it could only be one night.
I drew in a deep breath and attempted to steel my heart against the oncoming pain.
The pain did not come.
The note was not telling me of an engagement.
He’d not run off with a famous elf. He’d been summoned to help his mother at her stall.
He apologized for not being able to see me that morning.
At the very bottom was a hastily scribbled note, scrawled in a different color, promising to meet me after closing.
“You saw him?”
“I did,” Acantha answered. “He was adamant that I give this to you. He did not like the idea that you were waiting for him. He swore that he wrote this first thing in the morning, and he’d been struggling to find a courier.”
“He’s not engaged.”
My sibling furrowed their brow in confusion. “Why would he be engaged? I saw him leaving your cabin this morning with a very dreamy look on his face. I do not think he would have gone from that to accepting another elf’s proposal of marriage so quickly.”
“I heard a rumor…”
“Castien, you should know better than to listen to rumors.” I felt properly scolded by my sibling’s words and shifted behind the counter. “That man is smitten. When he speaks of you, his entire face lights up. You can see his heart in his eyes, and it belongs to you.”
The idea that Oleander’s heart belonged to me untangled the knot in my stomach. I felt better and freer than I had since I woke that morning with Oleander beside me.
I now just had to decide what I would do with this information.
I spent hours contemplating. Pages of my journal were filled with notes and lists, pros and cons of pursuing something more with Oleander.
Someone from my shop traveled to Emberleigh at least once a month.
I could take the journey and leave Acantha in charge of my shop.
I could trust them for the days I was gone.
They were already my second-in-command. I knew that Oleander wanted marriage, and I could compromise on that if it meant that I would have him and his heart.
As the hours passed, I asked myself important questions. Not just logistics, but questions about what I wanted from my life. My mind raced across topics, but it all circled back to one truth.
I did not ever want to feel the way I did during the hours where I thought Oleander was engaged to someone else.
The sun set, and the vendors closed. The market crowd thinned, and Acantha kissed my cheek and wished me luck before departing down the path back to the village. I paced the packed dirt floor of the stall, and when that did not work, I stepped outside and paced the area in front.
I spotted Oleander the moment he came into view.
There was a slump to his shoulders until his eyes landed on me, and then his entire demeanor changed.
His pace quickened, and I found myself pulled to him like a magnet to metal.
We crashed into one another halfway down the lane.
His arms wrapped around me, and he kissed me with so much passion that I felt ridiculous for ever thinking that he would say yes to another elf’s proposal, no matter how famous he was.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered as he pulled away from me. “Father was ill, and Mother needed my help to run the apothecary. I tried. I tried to let you know as soon as I could, but it was busy and I didn’t know anyone to send you my note. Not until Acan—”
I cut him off with another kiss. His words fell silent as his tongue busied itself with mine. When I pulled away, his eyes sparkled with starlight. “They told me.”
“I’m still sorry.”