Page 2 of His Summer Prince

Before Wren could say anything else, Elior took his hand and guided him to a tree where they sat down on dry, even ground.Elior reached into his pocket and produced a handful of marbles. Unlike the rough stone marbles Wren kept in the shepherd’s hut, they were smooth and perfectly round, their bright colors gleaming in the light that fell through the canopy above.

Elior showed them to him, asking him to choose one of the larger ones as his shooter. Wren surveyed the marbles, admiring the beautiful colors. He selected a green one, various shades of emerald and teal twisting together.

Elior picked up a stick. He drew a circle in the pine-needle?covered floor and placed the marbles inside, keeping one for himself. “Do you know how to play?”

“I shoot the marbles out of the circle?” Wren had played marbles with the other children in Castlehill over the winter, but fae might have different rules.

“Yes. And we’ll play for keeps.”

Wren stared at Elior. “But these are all yours.” Wouldn’t Elior be upset if Wren knocked marbles out of the circle and got to keep them?

Elior smiled and shrugged. “I’ll start.” He sat on his haunches, hovering outside the ring. Concentration tightening his face, he stuck his tongue into a corner of his lips and flicked his shooter into the marbles at the center, sending them scattering. Two rolled outside the circle, and Elior pocketed them. “Your turn.”

Wren had less grace and practice than Elior but managed to knock a marble out of the ring. Back and forth they went.

By the end of it, Elior had collected eight marbles to Wren’s seven. Wren regarded the colorful mix in his hand. One was indigo with a scatter of silver dots sprinkled through it like stars in the night sky. Another was of the prettiest aquamarine, with three small bubbles enclosed inside it. No matter what Elior had said, Wren couldn’t keep them. He shouldn’t accept a gift from a fae, especially when he had nothing to give in return.

Wordless, he offered the marbles to Elior, whose eyes flicked from Wren’s hand to his face and back.

“No, you keep them,” Elior said.

“But I can’t accept a gift.” Agnes would be angry if she saw the beautiful marbles. Wren would have to tell her that they came from a fae boy—no child he knew possessed such nice marbles.

“They’re not a gift. You’ve won them fairly.”

Still, it didn’t seem right that Wren had those magnificent marbles and gave Elior nothing in return. He racked his mind and remembered the piece of hard cheese he had in his pocket, a leftover from breakfast he’d kept to snack on during the day.

Wren pulled it out. The cheese was enfolded in a stiff, checkered cloth, and he presented it to Elior, who cautiously eyed the square packet. It emitted a strong smell, which intensified when Wren unwrapped the cheese.

“Cheese from our sheep,” Wren said proudly. “Have it.”

Elior broke off a small corner and put it in his mouth, chewing carefully. “It’s good!” he blurted, and Wren’s eyes snapped to him. Elior was smiling, licking his lips. “Salty! I like that.”

He took another piece, this time much larger, and ate it in hungry bites. Before Wren could blink, Elior was scarfing down the rest of it, chewing with bulging cheeks and licking his fingers. Seeing Elior enjoy the cheese had warmth expanding in Wren’s chest. He was glad to have given him something in return for the marbles. Wren loved his sheep, and Elior liking their cheese made him happy.

When Elior had gulped down the last bite, he pulled a golden brown biscuit in the shape of a butterfly from his pocket. He made to hand it to him.

Never eat faerie food in their realm, Agnes’s words echoed through Wren’s mind. He didn’t remember all the complicated rules that had been impressed on him for dealing with fae, but heremembered Agnes’s warning.

Wren shook his head. “If I eat your food in the faerie realm, I can never go home.”

“Oh,” Elior said, dejection clouding his gaze. “I just wanted to repay you for the cheese. I didn’t know you couldn’t go home if you ate the biscuit.”

“But I gave you the cheese because I have your marbles.”

Elior lifted his head, eyebrows drawing together. “You won them in a fair game, so you don’t have to repay me.” Confusion played on his features. “Mother says humans don’t understand debt.”

The words carried weight. But what was “debt”? “Can you explain it to me?”

Elior’s face brightened. “It’s not difficult. You gave me food that tastes good, and, to be even, I have to give you something worth the same.” He glanced at the biscuit. “It’s a very good biscuit. I’m sorry you can’t eat it. I’ll find something else for you.”

“You can look for something and give it to me tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Elior gazed at Wren with wonder.

Wren held out his hands. “I liked playing with you. Tomorrow, I’ll bring my marbles, and we can play with them for keeps. They’re not as nice as yours, but if I have some of your marbles, you need some of mine.”

Elior nodded eagerly.

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