“Shocking,” I mumbled.
We stood in silence for a minute.
I rocked on my heels. “Well, then?—”
“What makes you think Jasper is still your betrothed?” Penn asked.
The question sent a shock through me. It was jarring, like the thought had just popped into his head and he’d blurted it out, which seemed so unlike the king of thieves, Mr. Cool and Collected, always so calm.
“Why wouldn’t we be betrothed?” I crossed my arms. “We’ve been engaged since I was three years old, known each other our entire lives.”
Penn stared at me like the answer was obvious. “You’ve been trapped in a prison cell for two years, and he never came for you.”
“He couldn’t come for me!” A defensiveness rose up in me. “It was dangerous and would take a lot of planning.”
“Believe me, I know,” Penn said. “But you have this unshakable faith in him. Why?”
This conversation was getting tiresome. “I already told you. Jasper and I are betrothed. He’s cousin to the princess of Gilraeth. Our betrothal made an important alliance between the earth and fire court. And he was going to be king of the earth court. He wouldn’t forsake that. More importantly, he wouldn’t forsake me. Loyalty might be hard for a man like you to imagine, but I assure you, it does exist.”
Penn looked at me with what seemed like pity, and I hated it.
“Is that all? I need to get to training.”
He was already studying his map again. “Take the rest of the day off.”
“Why?” I asked, suddenly suspicious.
“Find Shadow, go shopping. You’re going to want to wear something other than your dirty trousers and tunic.”
“Yes, but for what?” Blood and earth, getting information from this man was like pulling leeches.
“Have you been trapped that long that you’ve forgotten the earth court’s biggest celebration of the year?” Penn leaned over, grabbing a quill and circling something on the map. “Tonight, we celebrate. It’s the Festival of Earth.”
Chapter Eighteen
The usually sleepy Mosswood Village roared to life around us. Shadow and Wayfinder flanked me as we passed a group of men and women playing a lively song with their wooden instruments: a fiddle, a banjo, and a flute. I missed these types of celebrations. In Elwen, we went all out for the Festival of Earth.
Servants would decorate our courtyard with garlands, flower petals, arches made of vines and leaves, and an altar depicting the earth spirit, with her hair made of ivy, her body made of branches, and long limbs made of flower stems. I’d spend the day wandering the courtyard with Driscoll and Jillian, snacking on candied plums and pear tarts, dancing, laughing. My heart ached to have it all back.
I was surprised Penn allowed us to even attend the festival, but Shadow told me everyone would’ve revolted if he hadn’t let us come and celebrate. It was the most important holiday to the earth court, so even with the looming threat of the Huntsman, Penn gave everyone the night off to enjoy the festivities.
“Oh, here we go with the puppets,” Shadow said.
“I love the puppets,” Wayfinder replied.
“You love everything.” Shadow rolled her eyes as we came to a stop behind a growing crowd of spectators.
“What do the puppets do?” I asked.
“Every year, a few villagers put together a puppet show of the Seven Spirits.”
“That sounds . . .” I trailed off.
“Ridiculous,” Shadow finished for me. “It’s ridiculous.”
Puppets popped up behind a wooden frame with a cloth, depicting Earth, Fire, Sky, Shadow, Water, Starlight, and Frost, each of them in human form but distinguishable by their elemental features.
Frost began speaking in a high-pitched, nasally voice, quickly getting into an argument with Fire. I laughed, unable to help myself.
