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

the princess, resting, eating, and singing celebratory songs. In the afternoon, we move outside to watch a horse race and I very nearly embarrass myself by cheering aloud when the little mare I’m rooting for noses ahead at the last moment. Then we retire to the tents again to relax. The men arrive in the early evening, bringing with them the great bridal amaria. The wooden palanquin is swathed in silks, the supports of the arched roof carved and overlaid with gold, and the inside appointed with velvet. It is carried by no fewer than twenty men, ten to a side, with an equal number who walk to either side to relieve the bearers as needed.

Alyrra ascends to sit wide-eyed and bright-cheeked, looking younger than I’ve ever seen her. Or perhaps just happier. Kestrin calls out to her from his mount on a richly caparisoned white horse, and she blushes and dips her head to him. I feel a faint twinge of envy, watching how their eyes meet, the pleasure in Kestrin’s face, and the shy sort of joy radiating from Alyrra.

No, I tell myself fiercely. I am happy for them, and that’s all there is to it. What may come to me—or not—is irrelevant.

With a high fluting note and a resonating boom of the drums, the procession starts forward: first a set of guards, then the musicians, then Kestrin and the three other men from either family on their horses, and then the amaria carrying Alyrra. Behind her come all the rest of us, women first and then the men. Most of us walk, though a few of the men ride, and a few of the women are borne along on litters. I spot Havila, riding in a smaller though indisputably elegant litter carried by two pairs of men, her cane laid across her knees.

Melly slips through the throngs and joins me as we reach the city gates. She looks tired, her skin beneath her makeup slightly peaked. She slips her arm through mine, shakes her head at my questions, and keeps pace with me as I slowly but inevitably fall toward the back of the procession. At least I manage to keep up with the last of the women, and don’t suffer the embarrassment of being overtaken by the men.

The drumbeats resonate through the streets and the very walls of the surrounding buildings. The edges of West Road are packed with spectators, as are all the cross streets, every window and rooftop, and every person in the gathered throng sways to the sound of the drums, singing together. This song has few words; it is mostly a call, one that brings each person to the tips of their toes, brings them closer to those beside them. It is as deep as our bones and as wide as the land upon which we stand.

At last we arrive at the palace, my turned foot aching with the promise of new blisters. My slippers may be well enough made this time, but such a long walk in new shoes is never a good idea. The royal party pauses before the doors, turning so that all gathered in the plaza can see them. Then the king raises his hand, and a breathtaking display of fireworks breaks into the evening sky, bursts of white and red and orange and green. I’ve never seen even a single firework before, and find myself awestruck by both the beauty of these streaks of fire painted across the sky and the resounding explosions as each new firework bursts forth.

I would have stood and gawked the whole time, but Melly points out this is the perfect time to catch up to the princess, and so we gently nudge our way through the crowd toward the amaria.

After the last of the fireworks, the procession floods into the great courtyard and Alyrra descends from her amaria to her new home. I manage to rejoin my fellow attendants as they converge to walk behind her, as Kestrin escorts her into the great receiving hall. And the wedding is over—all but the feasting.

Once Alyrra has been settled on her sofa on the dais alongside Kestrin, we make way for the nobles lining up to approach and congratulate the couple. I slip away from my fellow attendants to rejoin Melly, who is now about a third of the way down the line.

“Thanks for staying with me,” I tell her.

She shakes her head. “I was glad for the company. Even if it was too loud to speak.”

I smile, but I feel a rush of guilt. The whole point of my invitation to come here was to keep Melly company, and I’ve done everything but that. And she’s still looking out for me. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to spend more time with you.”

“Don’t be absurd. It’s good to see you doing something new and different, Rae. Something you wouldn’t have imagined back home.”

Being taken hostage by a thief lord certainly qualifies. “You’re looking a little pale,” I say just as Filadon joins us.

He grimaces and speaks right over Melly’s assurance that she’s fine. “That is because she insisted on acting as if everything were normal.”

“I’ll rest when I’m ready,” Melly says archly.

I glance from one to the other, and realize what they aren’t saying. “Morning sickness?”

Melly shoots Filadon a displeased look. “Just a little nausea and tiredness, Rae. Nothing to worry about.”

I really have done a terrible job looking out for Melly. “Why didn’t you tell me? You shouldn’t have walked! You could have met the princess just as well right here, with the other half of the court.”

“I wanted to walk with you,” Melly says gently. “And I’ll go up and rest once I’ve given them my greetings.”

She didn’t want me to fall behind alone, as she knew I probably would. I feel my cheeks burning and look away. “Have you tried ginger tea for the nausea? Or even just extra ginger in your food?”

“No.”

“Mama always recommends it. And walking, but I