lluminism
“A child?” She almost laughs at the absurdity. “Don’t let his foolish behavior confuse you. He’s nearly thirty.”
The smirk she wears fades quickly once she realizes what she just said. Was it wrong of her to badmouth her own blood in front of a stranger? A previous enemy? Would the guards trailing behind them question her loyalty to her own race?
Did it matter?
Regardless, Emelia decides to keep her words in check from now on. She tells herself that his sudden personality change simply had her confused. He was not there because he wanted to be. They weren’t in love. It was merely politics. And her brother had the right idea, making it clear where they stood. He just went about it all wrong. As usual.
“I’m well aware of the history our families share.” Her voice is low now, hiding from the ears of the men around them. “I would not blame your people for holding a grudge. But I need you to know that my father is genuine.”
Her eyes meet his, fierce and searching. She wants to study him when she says her next sentence.
“I hope that yours is, too.”
Emelia does not intend to come off as rude or suspicious. In fact, she hopes to come across as sympathetic. Understanding. She is merely letting him know where her people stand in a way Arild couldn’t. Without putting him on the spot in front of dozens of armed soldiers.
“I’m sure there is mistrust on both sides, but we must have faith in each other,” she says, once again at normal volume. As if her previous statements didn’t happen. As if they were still discussing her brother.
The smile she wears is practiced. But it’s not there to fool him, just everyone else.
‘Look, I’m making peace,’ it said. ‘Of course I didn’t just take matters into my own hands because Arild is incompetent. I’m just a princess.’
