who have come and gone from Four Halls, Thelia remains her
best and closest friend.
But like the horse and the hunting dog, Corene prefers
when things belong fully to her and no one else. And who
wouldn’t, living a life of public performance and spectacle?
Even she doesn’t truly belong to herself. Perhaps what I saw
the other night is as simple as that. Nul se Lan is strange
and new, someone she can have completely. Someone who’s
all hers.
“So what’s the hurry to marry Prince Sheep?” I ask. “Why
does duty to the Kingdom have to come at the expense of your
happiness?”
Her eyes drop to her lap. “It’s my role, Percy. I got to have
my happiness for eighteen whole cycles. I played with you
and Thelia and Bayled all I wanted. And now the time”—she
swallows—“has finally come to be a Princess.”
“But why
now
?” I ask, refilling my glass. Corene’s not
clever, but her father tells her things the rest of us don’t
get to hear. “Surely this wedding isn’t happening in such a
rush because the Southerners suddenly think annexation is a
great idea.”
Corene purses her lips. “We hear the same rumors.”
“Rumors about the long ears?”
“See, you know as much as I do.” She crosses her arms.
“And you’re drinking all my wine.”
I take an epically long swallow, hand her the empty glass,
and head out into the hall.
“Good-bye!” she calls after me, annoyed. “I had to
start getting ready anyway!” I laugh as she slams the door
behind me.
Our petty little plans probably won’t matter. If the elves
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