“Don’t tell her it’s me.” Tyes whispers as the two make their way to ?denora’s room. “She doesn’t know that my family was invited to the wedding.”

  “Of course, if that is your request.” Covering his mouth, Ferran chuckles softly behind his hand.

  “Bela’Epp?n.” Ferran says through the locked door. “Your family is here to see you.”

  “Oh, excellent!” Awenela sits up from her bed. “I will be just a moment.” She was not sure if her soft-spoken voice made it through the door, as it tends to struggle with this, but she pays it no mind; if they did not hear her, they will simply knock once more.

  Hurriedly, she throws open the doors of her wardrobe and gets dressed. Something simple for today: just a light blue and white knit sweater, a pair of blue corduroy pants, and a pair of black oukuls [1].

  Feeling as though she lacks the time to do her hair properly, she leaves it in the bun she had placed it in the night before. She opens the door and steps into the hallway.

  She looks around and sees no one besides Ferran, who is about 10 meters away. Miffed, she inquires with the steward. “Ferran, what is the meaning of this? where is every—”

  Strong arms wrap themselves around Awenela’s waist, hoisting her off the ground, well into the air. She lets out a sharp gasp before giggling; she recognizes the arms around her waist, the softness, the warmth of their touch—it could be no other but her Tyes Letser. “Tyes! such a surprise! you didn’t write me. Are you here for the wedding—or for me?”

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “My family was invited to the wedding.” He kisses her quickly on the cheek before continuing. “But I am, of course, here for you; being an attendee is merely a guise.” He carefully sets her down, with the utmost delicacy, like a father handling a porcelain doll to be gifted to his daughter.

  Awenela steps away from Tyes. With her back to him, she quickly fixes her sweater, pulling it down, making it taut around her shoulders and chest, and turns to face him for the first time since she left his estate. His hair, a darker brown, was still in the undercut he always had, despite his frequently expressed disdain for it.

  She takes him by the cheeks and pulls him down to head height, kissing him. Pulling away and letting him go, she plants her hands on her hips. “Eu, as I would hope.”

  Tyes chuckles. ?denora’s attempts to be stern or critical fall flat on him; the moment he had surpassed her in height, they had turned into the doting of a wide-eyed kitten. “I’m surprised that my family was invited; Father said that it was a special request on behalf of your father.”

  “I will be sure to thank him.” She looks around Tyes to the steward, who is facing away from them, staring at the ground. “Ferran, where are the others?”

  The steward turns around awkwardly; he had turned his back to the two the moment the door opened and has been attempting to count the threads in the carpet since then. “Your father requested to meet with Vela’Herst, who is in the Main Hall; I assume the rest will be with them. Come, I shall take you to them.

  Footnotes

  [1] A style of closed toe, low-cut shoe, known for having a slight platform and a distinctive chunky-heel.