She did not bow.
There was no applause.
***
Her father threw a feast in her honor.
Lannahi would rather he didn’t. The average enchanter could control several knives at once. She only controlled one. Every fae present in the ballroom knew that if her opponent had been a skilled golden-tongued, she wouldn’t have won the duel. Besides, she wasn’t the only one who wasn’t in the mood to celebrate. The caution behind the smiles of the courtiers betrayed their fears. They knew that Lannahi’s actions would have consequences for them as well.
“When my youngest daughter Challenged a landshaper, I was astonished just like you,” Sarkal announced to the guests seated at the large round tables. “Today she won the Royal Duel, and although the surprise that it happened at all has not receded, I can’t help but be proud of her. Lannahi is as brave as her mother, and her mother is one of the bravest fae I have met.” He lifted a crystal goblet filled with red ambrosia wine. “Courage should be recognized. A toast to Lannahi!”
The mood in the chamber lifted.
“To Lannahi!” the guests repeated more cheerfully than politeness required.
As the chamber filled with music and the clatter of dishes, Sarkal put down his goblet. He was about to sit when Lannahi grabbed his hand.
“Shall we dance?” she asked.
A smile brightened his face. “Of course.”
Lannahi felt Maal and Letiri’s gaze on her, but for the first time in her life, she didn’t care what they thought.
She survived the Royal Duel. If that wasn’t a reason for celebration, then what was?
***
Since the spring evening when Nihhal had cursed her, Lannahi had rarely strolled through the tree-lined alleys, opting instead for the lighter parts of the garden. In the past, the palace gardens had been a peaceful oasis for her, but now she couldn’t enter them without thinking of Danihel’s son. It had angered her at first, and on days when the argument about not getting out of the palace guards’ sight had seemed to her more cowardly than reasonable, she’d forced herself to walk down the same alley where she’d talked with Nihhal. She hadn’t been able to enjoy the walk, but she hadn’t wanted one memory to efface all others. She had known these gardens longer than she had known him…
When she’d realized that anger only exaggerated the importance of the place, she’d stopped fighting the thoughts, instead letting them flow past her and disappear. Nihhal was still the first thing she thought about when she entered the garden, but acceptance made it easier to push aside unwanted memories.
When the leaves fell from the trees, it became almost effortless.
Hearing footsteps, Lannahi tore her gaze away from the bare branches obscuring two trapezoidal blocks, the smaller stacked on the bigger, that made up the palace, and looked at the fae approaching the gazebo. Practical Souhi and absentminded Blann. Cheeky Erril and empathetic Akammu. Perceptive Esau. Excluding her parents, these were all people she trusted.
When all five entered the gazebo and looked at her expectantly, Lannahi asked, “Would any of you like to come with me?”
Her friends exchanged meaningful glances.
Erril grinned. “We thought you wouldn’t ask.”
***
When Lannahi entered her mother’s chamber, Asirri turned away from the window and regarded her daughter carefully.
“I heard that your father released five people from the oath. Are you going to ask him for any more favors?”
Lannahi held her gaze. She expected that conversation.
“No.”
“And aren’t you going to threaten the landshapers that Sarkal will intervene if something happens to you?”
“I hope that his reputation will protect me from an outright attack,” Lannahi admitted. “But I don’t want to involve him in any potential conflict.” She hesitated. “If something happens to me, it will only be because of me and my choices. Please remind him of this if his emotions cloud his reason.”
A faint smile appeared on Asirri’s face. “That’s a late request.”
Lannahi felt tightness in her chest. “I did not and do not intend to bring you trouble. I hope you can believe me.”
