A Royal Trap

Silk and Feathers - Part 2

Kaelas, leaning against a post, straightened as she emerged. “You’re out quick, Elowyn. Did they run out of feathers?” he asked, more a lighthearted question to see if she was okay. Concern etching his features as he took in her slightly flushed face.

She shook her head "I believe Doria is ordering enough for both of us.” offering him a small, reassuring smile that only deepened the color in his own cheeks. Elowyn’s gaze turned questioning at his reaction, and Kaelas, flustered by her curious gaze, cast about for a new topic. “Do you have any books you’d recommend?” he blurted out.

“Kaelas,” she said, genuinely puzzled. “I thought you claimed to hate books.” She remembered his many declarations that reading was a prison for the eyes when the whole world was outside.

“Yes, well, I’ve better things to do than read, usually,” he mumbled, immediately wishing the cobblestones would swallow him. Dread pooled in his stomach—had he insulted her passion? But when he dared a glance, he saw her attention was no longer on him. Her eyes were fixed, on the forest? her expression once again clouded with that distant, uneasy contemplation he’d noticed too often lately.

It bothered him, this silent worry of hers. He had asked, gently, more than once, but Elowyn’s inner world was a fortress she rarely opened. He knew her kindness too well. She kept quiet to keep peace, to offer consideration. but also to hoard her true thoughts like precious stones. He yearned for her trust, for a glimpse behind the curtain. They had been friends so long; surely, he had earned that.

Before he could formulate another, gentler probe, the modiste’s door swung open. Aunt Rosalind emerged first, a satisfied general. Eden followed, looking thoughtful with swatches in hand. Then came Doria, a vision of planned triumph already glowing on her face. She spotted Kaelas and her eyes lit with possessive glee.

“Kaelas!” she cried, and in a flurry of silk samples, she descended upon him, linking her arm tightly through his with such force that he nearly lost his footing. “Wait until you hear! I’ve chosen the most magnificent fabric! You won’t recognize me at the ball!” She beamed, pulling him into her orbit, while Elowyn, now quietly at the periphery, watched the forest edge once more, a silent question hanging in the air between her and the gathering dark of the trees.