“What he means is, it would be fun, if she wasn’t the Beloved of Danu, the mate of our brother at arms, and our esteemed commander’s sister,” Elduin hastily corrects, diving in to save his brother.
The giggle that escapes me cuts off Florian’s rebuke before it can form. My brother gives me a long look, taking in my burning cheeks and hesitant smile, before turning back around with a grunt that sounds oddly like a stay of execution.
“Let’s get moving.” He spurs his horse forward.
Drystan is silent as he keeps pace, and the rest fall quickly into line behind us. They chatter as they ride, although it’s mostly the twins grilling Jaro for details of our journey, though occasionally the others butt in.
Jaro, Bree, and Lore are directly behind us, with the knights surrounding our group on all sides. But somehow, I’ve ended up riding at the front with two grumpy, silent bears.
Should I say something to my brother? Try to get to know him? What can I ask someone so important and not sound stupid?
He probably already thinks I’m an idiot, just like Drystan.
I busy myself looking at the landscape instead. We’re riding between empty fields towards a small collection of houses. Another immense wall stands beyond them.
“Your people have gathered along the route,” Florian says, breaking the silence. “There are parties planned for most of the night to celebrate your return.”
No one’s ever thrown a party in my honour before. It’s an incredibly sweet gesture.
“Can we go?”
Florian thinks about it for a second, brows furrowing. “There was a ball planned for the nobles to welcome you.”
A stone sinks in my gut. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” I whisper. “I’ll probably just embarrass myself.”
Florian just shrugs. “Our grandmother slaughtered seven fae at her first ball for bringing up that they’d previously slept with members of her Guard. You can’t do much worse.”
Oh, yeah? Watch me.
My brother isn’t done. “And if you do want someone slaughtered, ask me first because I need to know what size grave to dig.”
A heartbeat passes while what he’s said registers, then I glance up at him with a huge grin on my face.
“I’ve got your back,” he promises. “Now, I’ll lead the parade, but yell if you want to talk.”
A hum of excitement cuts off whatever I might say in return as he spurs his horse to ride in front of us, leading our procession.
Childish screams of delight echo from the fields beside us, and I catch sight of tiny fae bodies flitting between the tall maize stalks. They’re not much different from human children—if you ignore the horns, colourful skin, and wings. I think I even spot a bright red hat or two among them.
Are redcaps… born with their hats? How does that work? I glance back at Lore only to find he’s busy making his own cap morph into different shapes to entertain the few running alongside us.
He catches my eye just as it morphs into a pirate hat—complete with feather—and winks.
“She’s here! She’s here!” The children’s cries echo across the space towards the crowd that lines the road ahead. We’re not even at the small collection of houses yet, and people are already lining the road. The instant our horses come into sight, they start cheering.
Please, Danu, don’t let me make a fool of myself.
Am I sitting right? Should I wave? Say something?
My guides would know, but I don’t think I can take Mab’s stoicism or Maeve’s violence right now.
“Titania?” I whisper, barely moving my lips.
Drystan stiffens, but doesn’t turn around as she appears behind me, perching above the back end of the horse.
“You’re doing fine,” she murmurs back. “Hold one hand up, but don’t actually wave. It’s a graceful acknowledgement, see? Like this. Smile, dear heart, this is all for you. They love you already.”
I could kiss her.