Page 74 of Kingdom of Locks

“Stop teasing him, Tora,” he told his sister sternly. “You know he doesn’t like being the center of attention the way you do.”

“I wasn’t teasing,” she protested. “He really does look good.”

“If you don’t need me, Your Highness,” Furn interjected in a slightly strangled voice, “I think I will return home after all.”

“Yes, of course,” Amell said. As soon as Furn was gone, he frowned at his sister. “What did I tell you?”

Tora scowled at him, but he could have sworn he saw a hint of moisture in her eyes as she turned away. Puzzled, he took a step after her, but was stopped by a voice from behind him.

“Amell, walk with me?”

He turned to see his mother leaving the king’s study, her eyes fixed on her daughter’s retreating back.

“Of course, Mother,” said Amell, offering her his arm.

She took it with a smile. “What do you think about Tora, Amell?”

“Uh…I like her,” said Amell blankly.

His mother sighed. “That’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?”

“I mean, what do you think about her marriage?”

“What marriage?” Amell demanded.

“Precisely,” said the queen, in dark accents. “She’s being particularly difficult about the matter. The two of you have always been as thick as thieves. I thought perhaps you could help talk sense into her.”

“I don’t think you should give me that role, Mother,” Amell said. “To be frank, I’m with Tora. I don’t see why she has to get married if she’s not ready. I think making sure she marries someone who’ll make the rest of her life better not worse is more important than the age at which she settles down.”

“Of course you think that,” scolded his mother lightly. “You’re a man. And two years younger than she is. But Tora is a princess, Amell. People are starting to talk.”

“I don’t see why that should matter in the least,” said Amell staunchly. He hesitated, casting a glance at his mother’s profile. “I know Father thinks I’m too young to think about marriage, Mother. But you said you thought it might steady me, didn’t you?”

“If you married the right girl, absolutely,” she said, looking up at him keenly. “Are you gaining interest in the idea?”

“Maybe,” Amell said, fidgeting slightly. “I mean…what would you think if I wanted to settle down?”

“To be frank,” the queen answered, borrowing his own words, “that would depend entirely on the girl.”

“Her personality?” Amell asked hopefully.

She gave him a look. “Certainly. And her connections.”

Amell sighed. He’d been afraid of that. “You have your heart set on a princess for me, don’t you?”

“Not necessarily,” his mother smiled. “But someone from the right circles, Amell. These things matter.”

Amell was silent. He remembered his mother’s words about it being unfortunate for Albury that their queen was a commoner, raised with no knowledge of court matters whatsoever. He didn’t like to think what her opinion would be of a future queen for Fernedell who was not only common, but had been raised in an isolated tower. He could call her whatever nickname he liked in his head, but it didn’t change who she was. Amell’s lips twitched as he remembered Princess declaring defensively that she’d seen a rainbow, so she knew what colors there were in the world. Or telling him that she’d once seen a bee. Or commenting casually, and completely without guile, that she found him handsome.

He sighed. “Well, it’s a moot point anyway.”

“What is?” the queen demanded.

“Nothing,” said Amell hastily. “I’ll see you at dinner, Mother.”

He took his leave, his thoughts still on the ineligible girl in the tower. It didn’t matter what his mother thought, he reminded himself. Becausehermother had made his position very clear. He could recall perfectly the uncompromising words Abigail had said to him in Cyfrin’s study, the second time he’d met her. She’d reminded him, somewhat forcefully, that her daughter had seen nothing of the world, and knew no one but herself and the evil enchanter. She was bound to be taken with any personable young man, and she was in no position to judge her own heart.

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