Page 58 of A Court Bright and Broken

Wherewasthat message from Sorcha? How long would she make me wait?

In the meantime, I had nothing to do but try to enjoy the food. The spread was so plentiful, I wondered if perhaps Elven people had more than one stomach in addition to being extremely tall and inhumanly beautiful.

At the head table, the king stood, and everyone in the dining hall followed suit.

He waited for the sounds of scraping chairs to cease before saying, “My esteem shines upon you.”

“And mine upon you,” the crowd said in unison.

Oh.That’show you were supposed to respond to that phrase.

The king continued.

“Thank you, friends, for gracing my home with your presence during this very special Assemblage, the first to take place in a time of complete Elven domination of the Sixlands,” he said. “Thanks to your sacrifices and loyalty, Avrandar is at peace.”

There was polite applause, which the King hushed with a hand gesture.

“That is notallwe have to celebrate tonight. Crown Prince Stellon Randalin is of bonding age.”

My gaze fell to Stellon whose face remained expressionless.

“As is my other son,” the King said without identifying Pharis by name.

Hisface wasnotblank but painted with disdain, whether for his father’s slight or the idea of marriage, I wasn’t sure. Maybe at life in general.

“I am confident that during these next two weeks, they will each find their perfect match among the eligible ladies gathered in this very room,” King Pontus said. “Perhaps even this very night.”

Excited murmurs filled the space. It seemed my new friend Ronia was the only one not excited by the idea. She stood beside me, still and quiet.

“So let us celebrate the sovereignty of the Elven people,” King Pontus said, “our continued good fortune, and the Crown Prince.”

He lifted his glass and tipped it toward Stellon before holding it up and out toward the audience at large.

“May the Grand Star brighten your way.”

As one, the dinner attendees raised their own glasses and responded, “And may it ever warm you.”

Snatching my glass from the table at the last second, I managed to mutter only the last two words. Hopefully no one around me noticed my tardy response and reported me for some sort of insult to the Crown.

To my relief, no etiquette enforcers appeared. The King took his seat followed by his family, then the guests all sat down again, and the meal commenced.

The shrimp were delicious—no wonder they cost so much. There were small cups of melted butter to dip them in, and when I tasted the combination, I thought I might cry from overwhelm at the luscious flavor.

Platters of fruits and nuts and cheeses followed. And then our small plates were cleared away and larger ones were delivered, already laden with meats and vegetables swimming in steaming, rich sauces.

Now I had a new problem. This was not finger food, and there were anabundanceof utensils.

Apparently High Fae used different forks for different foods? They were all shaped like miniature tridents, but there weresomany of them of varying sizes.

Casting surreptitious side glances at Ronia, I copied whatever she did, picking up my corresponding utensil and eating the same things she ate at the same time. She didn’t seem to notice.

There were some foods I didn’t recognize, but everything tasted incredible—and it wasn’t just because it was the first time in years I’d eaten food I hadn’t had to cook myself.

Though Papa had assured me there was nothing magical about Fae food and drink, I was starting to wonder.

In fact, I was feeling a little intoxicated after only a few sips of the wine. I vowed to stick to the water from this point forward. I took a large swallow then another, draining my glass, hoping to dilute the effects of the alcohol.

The very last thing I needed was to become drunk. It would besoeasy to stop being “clever” and just blurt out something that would expose my ruse.

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