Loving the Forbidden Prince

Chapter 162  The Feast

AYLETH

Ayleth had barely been able to eat.

The great ballroom had been set up with tables in a massive U shape so that, technically, all the kingdoms sat at the same time. A symbolism for the peace accord, and a tradition that spanned millennia.

In truth, she was almost as far from Etan as she would have been in a feast hall—she seated next to her parents at the head of the massive table formation, he and his parents at the furthest end on the left. The lowest possible position while still a royal. And because tradition demanded that the ruling Kings and Queens sit on the outer edge of the table, and their heirs and Regents on the inner, Ayleth had spent the entire meal with her back to Etan. A frustrating, but probably useful circumstance. If she'd sat in her mother's position and had the opportunity to stare at Etan's back throughout the meal she likely wouldn't have heard a word anyone said.

It was almost time. Almost time.

Her stomach twisted with delight and fear and a shivery anticipation so overwhelming, her hands shook.

Trystan sat at her right, sunny eyed and good humored, his dry quips and low, whispered barbs for the other royals had kept her sane for the past two hours while they waited for the many courses of the feast, every platter removed from before Ayleth with only a few small bites removed.

By the fourth course her mother stared at her sharply. "Ayleth, why aren't you eating?"

"Don't worry, mother," Ayleth said. "I'm only excited for the ball."

Trystan had excused himself moments earlier to use the bathing room and her mother leaned forward across the table, eyeing the seat where he'd been.

"Are you certain you wouldn't like to announce tonight?" she said with a hopeful smile. "The Lord seems very taken with you, and you with him. You are easy together. I find my heart is at rest about his position. You were very savvy to see the potential there, Ayleth. The lines of trade alone… perhaps we should not wait to announce in case someone else now comes to see what you have seen and tries to snap him out from under your hand?"

Ayleth shook her head and forced herself to smile. "Trystan is very loyal, mother. He won't allow himself to be snapped up by anyone. Please… I'd like to just enjoy the ball tonight and rest in the newfound peace of the Kingdom. We can announce at the end of the Festival when it won't be overshadowed by they day's events."

"But so few of the Kingdoms will remain here by then," her mother said, a small pout pushing out her lips and forming a v between her brows. "So many are announcing tonight and will leave in the coming days. Are you certain?"

"I am certain, mother," Ayleth said easily. No one of any account will leave before the end."

"Well, that's true. And I can only be pleased to see the back of the Summitrans," her mother sneered.

A tiny curl of dread began in Ayleth's stomach. "Oh? They're leaving quickly?"

"Tomorrow, by all accounts," her mother said breezily—which meant, like a cat, her every sense was attuned to measure Ayleth's reaction. Her mother was never casual, except by design. "And praise the Goddess for that!"

"Yes, yes, of course," Ayleth said, it suddenly coming home to her that this might be the last meal she shared with her parents and her Ladies. Picking up her goblet, she swallowed deeply to cover her sudden dizziness, before spluttering and coughing because she'd forgotten they'd filled it with that horrendous fizzing wine so favored by the southern regions.

Clearing her throat and blinking watery eyes, Ayleth picked up the smaller goblet of water left at each seat and drained it, ignoring her mother's eagle gaze.

"I hate that wine!" she exclaimed. "It always stings in my nose."

"Funny," her mother said quietly. "You've always had such a taste for the more bitter things in life."

Still coughing a little bit, Ayleth stared, confused. But both their attention was taken then by her father pushing back his heavy seat and standing as the Cryer's voice pealed through the massive room to announce the King of Zenithra would speak to the assemblage.

Stomach and heart thudding, Ayleth shifted in her seat so that anyone watching would believe she'd given her full attention to her father as he stood, regarding the crowd.

In truth, her mind was on the burning sensation at the back of her neck.

Etan was watching her, she was sure of it. The bond had been quiet—she wished she'd thought to tell him to be more open there, to reassure her, but she'd left so hastily the night before. No matter. Soon she could touch and smile and kiss him and no need for the bond at all.

She smiled, losing herself in thoughts of what the night might hold.

A sharp toe found her shin with remarkable accuracy under the table, and it took everything within Ayleth not to cry out. But she blinked back to find her mother glaring at her and tipping her head towards her father who was intoning… something.

"…new age of peace and unity. We welcome the prosperity across the continent, to see every people to Ayleth? She blinked and looked at her husband, but he hadn't turned from his seat. His face was, in fact, turned away from her so that all she saw was his broad shoulders and the neat trim of the and tongue thrive! Today marks historic new alliances—both political, and familial—and I invite you to join us in celebrating this momentous day. Today is the Day of Peace, may the Goddess bless us all!"

Polite, controlled applause echoed throughout the room and Ayleth joined them all, her entire body tingling, waves of nerves beginning right in the center of her stomach and flaring all the way out to every inch of her skin in anticipation.

This was it.

This was it!

Her father cleared his throat and picked up a piece of parchment from the table next to his plate. "As is the tradition on the Day of Peace, many nations have agreed upon alliances between not only their Kingdoms, but their bloodlines. Many more will be announced at the end of the festival, but I ask you all to join me in blessing the unions brought to you today…"

And so he began to call them out, a handful of royal titles and names. And when he called each Kingdom, the King or Queen of that realm would stand in their place and announce the name of the Kingdom and ruler or heir with which they were unifying.

It wasn't until her father intoned, "The Kingdom of Summitras!" and Ayleth's heart pounded so hard she couldn't hear anything except her own lifeblood in her ears, and she turned to see Etan's father stand, smiling that it hit her.

He'd said they couldn't tell their parents, or anyone else.

How would his father stand here now, smiling down at Etan like that, if he knew of Etan's marriage to Ayleth? She blinked and looked at her husband, but he hadn't turned from his seat. His face was, in fact, turned away from her so that all she saw was his broad shoulders and the neat trim of the back of his hair.

Why wasn't he looking at her, sharing this moment? Surely now, of all times, there was no risk to being seen to know each other?

Barely breathing, Ayleth stared at Etan's back, willing him to turn, as times slowed and the King of Summitras shifted his weight on his feet, clasped his hands in front of his stomach and beamed at the gathering.

How could he look happy if he knew?

No.

The man she would call father lifted his chin and projected his voice, booming through the great ballroom, "The Kingdom of Summitras takes the Lady Sarya Playn of the Kingdom of Playn, and invites her to cross borders to give her consent!"