An Affinity For Fire

39. Heleonne

Heleonne almost missed breakfast.

After over four weeks of rotating between guestrooms and the ground, the comfort of his own bed was something he was reluctant to leave. When he arrived in the great hall at nearly noon, the servants were almost finished clearing the uneaten bread, pastries and assorted meats from the buffet tables. He managed to swipe a soft roll and a hard-boiled egg - probably duck, given the size - from the tray of a passing serving girl, before surveying the room for a familiar face.

Although the Quarternal Festival traditionally spanned the entirety of the last week of the decade, most guests only got involved for the evenings and nights, and those who did wish to participate in the daytime activities were either hunting in the woods or flocking in the gardens or courtyard to enjoy the few hours of winter sunlight. The great hall was therefore left almost empty.

At one of the side walls, still seated at a banquet table, Leo spotted Ellery, golden hair pinned neatly back from her eyes. She was watching a group of musicians performing on the dais, eyes narrowed in an unusually scrutinising manner.

When Leo saw who was playing, he realised why.

A huddle of nobles had gathered at the foot of the dais to watch the performance. Among them was his mother, Princess Seffrey, draped in a gown far too elegant for breakfast, standing beside a familiar male Ortusian - Prince Laurel. Marram's father.

They were watching her play.

Leo shuffled around the perimeter of the hall, avoiding his mother's sight, and perched in the free chair next to his sister.

"You've got to hand it to her," Ellery said, not even breaking her gaze from the dais to greet him, "She knows how to use a violin."

It was true. The melody Marram performed was lively, complex and expertly navigated. It was a tune he recognised, one which he'd heard plenty of musicians butcher, but she hit every awkward note, even adding a little unique ornamentation of her own.

"As that the best thing you can say for her?" He asked. Marram and her father, he had been told, had arrived earlier than the other Ortusian guests, so that they could get to know the Monfort family. His sister probably knew his future fiance better than he did.

Ellery frowned. "She seems ... nice."

"What's the problem?" he asked, pushing past her hedging.

"She's sweet, soft," Ellery elaborated. "That probably works to her favour in Ortus, where they're all love and sunshine, but the Dormisian Court will rip her to pieces. If she doesn't take well to rumours and criticism, she won't last five minutes here. Still, she's intelligent, she can play, dance, ride, she even writes ruddy poetry. Maybe she'll entertain the more brutal amongst our family enough that they'll actually be nice to her."

"Dormisian nobility, nice?" he asked. "That sounds a little too ambitious to hope for."

She huffed out a quiet laugh, lips tugging into a tight, practiced smile. No grins or cackles here, not when onlookers could percieve their amusement as ungraceful, unrefined.

"She's a skilled performer. If her performance as a Dormisian Princess is as impressive as her performance as a distinguished musician, who knows? Perhaps she will be an extremely successful wife to the Monfort heir."

Leo's stomach tightened. "I'm not the heir."

Ellery finally tore her eyes away from Marram, fixing him with a disappointed scowl. "Stop pretending this isn't happening. We both know it is, and you insisting otherwise isn't as comforting as you think it is."

When he'd first returned home, Leo had been amazed by how well his sister had recovered. She hadn't been able to get out of bed when he'd left. Now, with a thick dress to cover the bandages and flat shoes for easy movement, no-one would suspect she had even been injured.