Page 45 of To Touch A Silent Fury

Then, I watched him traverse the floor to meet with the equally lemon-clad Ravillin.

Whatever was going on, whatever the prince had meant, I knew it couldn’t be discussed here. I ate carefully, having faith in Ersimmon’s decision to trust the food. It did help, and I felt some of my shakiness dissipate. I needed to be strong and aware. If there was a threat coming from the Dragon Prince, he intended it to happen tomorrow. If I could believe his word, that is.

I looked out of the window as a crack of lightning flashed across the night sky, illuminating the lake and the distant shore for a flashbefore it descended back to black again. Thunder followed, drumming the night. The rain would come soon enough. It was an odd choice, to place a tournament in the middle of the Triad’s rainiest season, but the squires must have long prepared for this.

The weather helped, too. The clattering thunder and sparks of light soothed me, reminding me of how inconsequential I truly was. I would not be cowed by a man when there were waves and mountains and lightning in this world.

I finished my plate undisturbed and settled my spirit. I watched the room, taking in each face, learning as much as I could about the people in the room. Sight was not my primary strength. I would be as careful as I could, keeping myself next to the Thread and Seth at all times.

No one was going to kill me.

The maestros stopped playing at the end of yet another jig, taking a break. Seth approached me and offered me his hand. “Are you ready?”

“Who were you talking to over there?” I asked as I placed my hand in his.

He rolled his eyes, just barely, but I saw it and smiled. “My mother. I’ll tell you about it later.”

“You better.”

He smiled. “I cannot wait to see the looks on these men’s faces when they find out the true prize of this Games.”

It was my turn to roll my eyes, then, but I saw the sincerity on his face.

Not a minute later, I stood between Seth and the Thread at the centre of the ballroom, safe in the fold of the two allies I had left in this world. My Brothers.

Behind us stood the previous victor, Lord Ravillin. He had granted our strange announcement, but he looked unsure, glancing often at Langnathin and Seth’s mother, Princess Derynallis, who both watched ourgathered trio unsubtly.

Thread Ersimmon raised his hands and clapped five times. The noise rang out across the room, and every pair of eyes in the room turned to him. “I have a small announcement to make. Some of you may know my face, and more of you will know my garb. For those of you unaware, my name is Thread Ersimmon,” he said. A few men on the left, including the Tastelander, Sparrospen, exchanged a whisper. “I come here today as the mentor of a Fate Bound sister, Tanidwen.”

He gestured to me, and I nearly ran from it all as every eye studied me. This was it, my husband was looking at me, and I could not look weak. I clasped my hands loosely in front of me to stop them from shaking and kept my chin high.

“She reached her fourth span only a week ago, and her Fate was bound to my path. Marriage.”

The whispers increased. I met the eyes of each man in the room in turn, except for the Dragon Prince whom I duly ignored. Prince Brascillan watched me like a hawk, hungry and nervous.

“Let it be known here and now,” he said, his voice booming. “It is her Fate to marry the victor of tomorrow’s events.” The room descended into chatter even as the Thread continued. “The winner will not only receive the bounty of Laithcart, but a powerful bride. One who will bring her talents and the prestige of the Brotherhood to your lands.”

It was as if I were a bird in Lavendell’s market, the way these men appraised my value, determining if they wanted me enough. I did not move nor speak, only keeping my head high. I would not embarrass my future husband.

Prince Brascillan’s expression had shifted. His focus kept returning to Langnathin, and I saw several others in the room looking at the Sightlands’ heir with thinly veiled suspicion.

Lord Ravillin cleared his throat and stepped up beside us. Now he was closer, I realised just how young he was. He musthave been barely more than a boy when he won this thing. He looked strong enough but also well-fed and docile. The last few years of sitting on the Triad’s bounty had certainly done him no harm. “I will confer with Prince Cratollan tomorrow to check he sees no issue with it, but for now, it seems this span’s events have an extra prize to their bounty, my lords.”

An older man huffed, the one Brascillan had defeated in the bout today. Kilmorrin, I remembered. “What if we are already married?”

I hadn’t even thought of that. How stupid of me, to not consider that my Fated husband might be otherwise engaged. I slid a look to Ersimmon, but he hadn’t even blinked.

A younger man from the Scentlands piped up. “Then clearly you are not Fated to win, Lord Kilmorrin.”

The men around him laughed, slapping him on the back.

Lord Kilmorrin folded his arms and grumbled. “Close your trap, Dranislan.”

The Scentlands youth, Lord Dranislan, grinned. “You can make me tomorrow.”

Each man took in the news with differing degrees of subtlety.

One spoke from the back of the room. “I would not choose a silvered bride.”