“Cata was a second mother to me.” I sipped the glass of cider before me. If the alcohol content is more than three percent, I’d be surprised, yet after drinking less than a quarter of it I’m feeling buzzed. I haven’t touched alcohol since before the war. I helped myself to one of the cookies Rya put out for dessert, hoping it will blunt the impact. They remind me of the ones Lorcan brought to Cata’s house after our falling out in Scotland.
“Tragic loss.” Rya took a cookie, too. “Had anyone else found my son, I’d have demanded he come home and stay in school here in this boring town, which he loathes so much he bought a house here.”
Lorcan rolled his eyes.
Excellent trolling, Mum.I smiled.
“But she was convinced of his talent, even that young. I knew he missed castle life and wasn’t happy here, so I let him stay with the Covari. And now look at him.” She smiled with satisfaction. “Poised to be the next king of Auralia.”
The cookie turned to dust on my tongue.
* * *
After lunch, Rya walked us to the town square where her office was located. Shops lined each side, with a fountain in the center. People stared openly at me, which I ignored.
“Is this where your birthday celebration will be held?” I asked Lorcan sweetly, having foolishly consumed all my cider.
He side-eyed me.
“Probably. The town hall is available to rent for celebrations.”
“I assume your mother, as city manager, has secured the venue.” I hiccupped.
“You’re cute when you try to be haughty and tipsy at the same time.”
In a display of maturity, I stuck out my tongue at him. Lorcan squeezed my hand as we continued past a row of shops and back toward his home.
The clearest sign of war is the emptiness of the shop windows.
One, however, caught my eye. Dresses. Simple ones, in the local style—apron-like with a square neck, lacing at the waist to fit the wearer. They were displayed on dress forms, over lightweight ivory shifts. It’s nothing compared to the slinky modern gowns I used to wear in the outside world, but as I said, was a little drunk, and I haven’t shopped for anything in forever.
“Do you want to go in?” Lorcan asked, following my gaze.
“No, no. The Treasury’s finances couldn’t withstand the blow.” I stumbled. Drunk. He propped me up. Again. What an apt metaphor. Constantly picking me up and setting me on my feet like I’m Sethi’s age and not twenty. Twenty-one, rather. Two birthdays missed, not that I much care. Celebrations were never much fun for me. They were always a performance for the populace, so it’s amusing to see Lorcan suffering through a similar predicament. “Thank you. I might need to avoid cider for the foreseeable future.”
He slanted me a grin.
“One reason to get you back to full health.”
I cast him a questioning glance. “I’m not following.”
“So you can drink wine at our wedding banquet without falling over.”
I elbowed him in the ribs. I can’t contradict him publicly. Someone might overhear. I’ll argue with him back at the cottage—if I remember to.
“Were you always this conniving?” I demanded.
He lifted one shoulder and let it fall.
“Never worked on you, Princess. You’ve always seen right through me.”
I wonder if that’s true, or whether it’s more flattery. I rather like the idea that he’s never been able to fool me, but I think I’m giving myself too much credit.
The sky overhead shifted to a darker hue as clouds gathered. By the time we arrived back at his cottage on the outskirts of town, fat raindrops thudded against the ground. We made it indoors just in time to avoid a crash of thunder and pounding rain.
“Mountain weather,” Lorcan moved about, closing the windows. “Sneaks up on you.”
I yawned. It’s barely mid-afternoon and I think I’m hungover. Rain is the perfect excuse to crawl into bed with a book. Lorcan changed into loose pants and takes the space next to me.
