The Theft of Sunlight by Intisar Khanani (story reading .TXT) 📕

looking up at him from the couch. Instead, Kestrin rises, gripping the man’s hand with his own, his other hand coming up to grasp his arm. He leans forward and murmurs something in the foreign prince’s ear, smiles briefly, a cold, sharp look, and returns to his seat.

“I do wonder what he said,” Zaria murmurs.

Mina nods.

“Rae,” a voice says, and I turn to find Melly before me, moving so fast I nearly drop my drink as she wraps me in a hug.

“It’s all right,” I murmur, wrapping my free arm around her. Is she shaking? “I’m all right.”

“It is most certainly not all right,” Melly says, pulling back to glare at me. “How bad is it? It looks painful. Did he hurt you anywhere else?”

“No,” I say, giving her shoulders a squeeze. “I’ll be all right, Melly. Truly.”

Melly lets out a slow breath, and her eyes glance about once as she becomes aware of the many, many eyes watching us. Then Filadon steps up beside her, bows to me, and says darkly, “I’ll have further words with Zayyid Kestrin, cousin.”

I expect I can’t talk him out of that, so I thank him instead.

“I am—” He shakes his head, starts over. “I do not know what to tell your parents. At least the man is now under guard, and the princess will have an escort until he departs—which means you will too.”

“I’ll write my parents,” I offer. “I’d prefer they hear the story from me.”

Filadon nods. “Send your letter to me and I’ll enclose it with mine. It’s best if they hear from you, but they should also know that I will do my utmost to protect you.”

I dip my head, and after a few more words, Melly and Filadon join the line to congratulate the royal couple.

I take a slow breath and turn my attention back to the gathering. A tiny, gray-haired woman who wears her clothes like battle armor and bears her cane as though it were both support and weaponry alike makes her way over to us. She greets Jasmine and Zaria, then Mina, and then she says, quite unexpectedly, “And you will, of course, introduce me to your newest companion.”

I dip a hasty curtsy as Jasmine presents me to the woman, one Veria Havila.

“I, for one,” she announces loudly, “am so very glad you have joined our court and were able to be here today. You’ve done our princess a service, and so honored us all.”

She most certainly noticed my staring match, then. I duck my head, feeling my face warm again, my swollen cheek tingly and stiff. “I thank you, veria.”

“I like the looks of you, child. I’m sure these girls will take good care of you.”

“Of course, veria,” Jasmine says brightly. “She is one of us.”

Havila hmms to herself, and I catch in her bright-eyed look an amused awareness that Jasmine would not have made such a claim yesterday. She steps away, and another noblewoman moves in to demand an introduction. It seems that almost every lady who approaches the royal couple stops by to make my acquaintance afterward, proof that the story of the prince’s assault positively screamed through the court.

Finally, the stream slows and a servant comes by with a tray filled with an array of honey-dipped sesame cookies. I take one, grateful to eat something—I forgot altogether to eat lunch. Although just nibbling on the cookie tells me that chewing will be an uncomfortable experience for a day or two.

“That was well done of Veria Havila,” Mina murmurs. At my questioning look, she goes on. “She’s one of the pillars of court society. By demanding an introduction at once, she set the example for the remaining ladies. When Dinari came over after that—well, I knew everyone would be by shortly.”

“Oh,” I manage. Wasn’t Dinari the woman Mina had hoped to introduce me to before—the one who had, apparently, refused that opportunity? “That was very kind.”

Mina nods. “Strategic, I’m sure. It shows her support of the princess, which will be much appreciated by the royal family right now. But yes, also kind. Be sure not to lose her support.”

With such a vote of confidence, it seems best to keep my silence. Instead, I turn my attention back to the nobles paying their respects to the royal couple. As I watch, Genno Stonemane approaches the couch, and beside him, another man. Or rather, Fae. Though he bears Stonemane company, they are nothing alike beyond the velvet darkness of their eyes. This Fae is dark as the richest of earth, his beauty as profound and gorgeous as the deep wood, so unlike Stonemane’s colder, paler beauty, if just as dangerous. His hair is braided into long ropes that fall down his back, glinting here and there with jewels.

“Who is that beside the Fae ambassador?” I ask Mina softly.

“Adept Midael, the Cormorant. He rarely takes part in court gatherings, so you likely won’t see much of him.”

The Cormorant? What sort of title is that? I thought a cormorant was a seabird. I glance at Mina and make myself focus on the first part of his title. “Adept?”

“One of their more advanced mages, I think. It’s curious to have them both here now. We haven’t had a nonhuman member of the court in years.”

“No dragons?” I quip, remembering the creature I met with my sisters some time ago. She had been sentient and capable of her own magical brand of speech, but she had also been hunted by the king’s soldiers. Dragons are distinctly not considered on par with the Fae or the merfolk.

Zaria laughs softly, having turned her attention back to us. “No. Even the merfolk are only here for the wedding. They arrived a few days ago, and will leave again a week or two after.”

Jasmine nods. “Delegates come and go. It’s rare to have an ambassador such as Verin Stonemane, let alone an adept in residence.”

I hesitate. “Why would there be a Fae mage at court?”

Mina shrugs and Jasmine shakes her head. It is