Page 83 of The Dragon's Promise

A gift? It was wrapped in peony-print cloth and tied with a gold cord I recognized from one of Gindara’s most famous shops. “You bought this for me?” I asked.

“No. I mean…no.” He cleared his throat as I stared at him curiously. Was he nervous? “The wrapping’s from Qinnia. I didn’t have any of my own.”

I was growing more mystified by the second. Qinnia had helped? “What is it?”

“Open it.”

Typically, I would have ripped through the cloth, but I lifted each fold as gingerly as if it were a butterfly’s wing. Inside was a simple comb, exquisitely carved and polished. I raised it to my nose, inhaling the scent of pine. “The wood’s from Iro.”

“How’d you know?”

I smiled coyly. “It smells like you.”

Usually, Takkan was good at hiding his feelings, but I caught the faint flush creeping up his neck, peeking out of his high collar. “Turn it over.”

Painted on the other side of the comb was a rabbit holding a red-stringed kite etched with flying cranes. The very kite Takkan and I had almost made together when we were children.

“In legend,” Takkan spoke, “Imurinya’s suitors brought her jewels and gold, riches from all across Lor’yan. But the hunter gave her a simple comb to put up her hair so he could see her eyes and light them with joy.”

My face warmed. I hadn’t thought of how that part of Imurinya’s story was like my own. For an entire winter, Takkan couldn’t see my face, and he’d tried valiantly to lift my spirits, even when he didn’t know who I was. Now, months later, to give me a comb, as the hunter had, was a promise. Of devotion. Of love.

I could hardly breathe as Takkan took the comb and tenderly set it in my hair.

“I know it’s been years,” he said, the tempo of his words accelerating a nervous notch, “and you never had any say when we were children, but I wanted to ask you now, before we—”

“Stop rambling, Takkan,” I blurted. “Are you asking if I’ll marry you?”

I’d rendered him speechless, at least for a second. He recovered admirably, and I wanted to kick myself for being an impulsive fool. But fool or not, I was still curious.

“I was going to ask more formally,” he said slowly, “if you’d…if you’d be betrothed to me.” He flashed a wry grin. “I suppose, in the end, the meaning is the same.”

It took all my control to keep my voice level and even. “In legend, the hunter gave Imurinya a comb to try and win her heart.” My hands were shaking as I spoke. “But mine’s already been won. So the answer is yes, Takkan.” I looked at him, trying to hold in the joy that was exploding inside me. Then I flew into his arms, all of me beaming with happiness. “Yes.”

He rose and hoisted me up with both arms, holding me close so our noses touched, and his breath tickled my lips.

“Are you finally going to kiss me?” I murmured cheekily.

Takkan touched my chin, and I half closed my eyes, ready for him to lean in and take my breath away.

Only he chuckled softly. “You’ll find out tomorrow,” he replied, with equal cheekiness. On my nose he burned a kiss into my skin, then set me down. “Incentive to actually show up this time.”

Incentive it was. I didn’t take Takkan for the sly and brazen sort, but he must have learned a lesson from me.

I liked it.

“I’ll be there.”

At last, it was the morning of my betrothal ceremony. I was already awake when my maids arrived to dress me, and I was in my brightest mood. Without complaint, I sat on a cushioned stool, patiently allowing them to swaddle me in a dozen layers of silk and brush my hair until it shone.

“Please wrap this in my hair,” I said, passing them the red thread I had taken from Raikama’s sewing chest. If she couldn’t be here today, I would still honor her.

Dressing me took all morning. I had many shortcomings, and though vanity had never been one of them, I had been self-conscious lately about the lock of white curling over my temples. My maids tried desperately to dye it black, even powdering it with charcoal and trying to paint it with lacquer, but nothing would take.

I tilted my head toward the mirror and stared at my hair. In an odd way, it suited me. “Let’s leave it,” I said finally.

“But, Your Highness—”

I have nothing to hide, I wanted to say. Everyone already knew I was a sorceress. But I wisely held my tongue and instead handed them Takkan’s comb. “Let it be.”

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