Raine: A Dark Elf Fairy Tale (The Darkwood Chronicles Book 3) by Anthea Sharp

Author:Anthea Sharp [Sharp, Anthea]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781680131123
Publisher: Fiddlehead Press
Published: 2020-04-22T16:00:00+00:00

Eight young ladies down, Owen thought as he bowed farewell to his latest dancing partner, a shy girl with brown hair who had not said more than two words the entire dance. How many more to go? At this rate, the evening would drag on for a hundred years.

“Thank you, Miss Iona,” he said, keeping a pleasant expression on his face.

She blushed, as though his remembering her name was a mark of particular favor. “It was… The pleasure was mine, sir… your highness.”

He nodded, then strode back to the dais. It was common courtesy to recall his dancing partners’ names—at least until their brief waltz was over. The only one who’d made any impression at all so far, however, had been Lady Fiona.

They were acquainted, of course, which made it easier. Her mother held lands to the southwest, near the coast, and their wealth primarily came from the raising of sheep. Lady Fiona was a pleasant girl, well spoken, and understood the responsibilities of nobility.

He could do worse, he supposed.

Trying not to frown—a prince shouldn’t frown at his own ball—he settled on the throne beside his father’s. On the floor below, the dancing master was organizing the crowd into long lines in preparation for a reel.

“You could join them,” the king suggested, leaning toward Owen. “I know you enjoy the faster dances.”

“Perhaps later. How many girls are there, again?”

“Upwards of forty.”

“Six groups.” Owen let out a silent sigh. He greatly feared they would all blur together by the end of the night. Perhaps he should simply settle on Lady Fiona and be done.

But that would dash the hopes of all the other young women in attendance, and he knew better than to do such a thing. No matter what his private decision might be.

He brought his hand to his face, massaging the slight ache at his temples.

“Have you eaten anything?” His father’s voice sharpened. “Tonight, of all nights, is no time to forgo dinner. Your mother would say you’re too slender.”

King Philip’s expression grew shadowed, and they were both silent for a few heartbeats. Then Owen stood.

“You’re right. I’ll go find some nourishment.”

Along with a bit of quiet. The great hall echoed with the sounds of music, and voices raised in conversation to compete with it, so that he could scarcely hear his own thoughts.

The king nodded, and Owen slipped behind the thrones to the small door at the back of the hall. The guard there pulled the door open for him, and he gratefully stepped into the cool quiet of the hallway.

It led toward the dining room in one direction, and the library and kingdom’s offices in the other. Most times it was busy with servants and courtiers going about their business, but now it was soothingly private. Owen pulled in a deep breath and removed his circlet.

When he returned to the great hall he’d put it back on, but it was a relief to set the crown aside for a moment.

The smell of bread and grilled meat drifted from the direction of the dining hall and kitchens beyond.

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