The Promised One: The Chalam Færytales (Book I)

Chapter Five

"You told him you had an injured shoulder?" Leala laughed.

"What else could I say? Oh, sorry I can't saddle your horse, Your Highness. You see, you used to be in love with me and wouldn't let me saddle your horse on principle, so the truth is, I have no idea how."

Leala spooned a heaping serving of creamed potatoes onto her plate and giggled as she sat across from Elizabeth. A council meeting had called her father to the castle for the evening, so it was just the two girls, having dinner by the fire in Elizabeth's cottage, laughing and chatting about males of the species. As usual.

"True. Maybe you could have hinted or something, I don't know."

"How do you hint to someone that they're in love with you but they just can't remember it?" Elizabeth laughed.

"When you figure that out, maybe you can help me figure out how to get a man to admit he's in love in the first place."

Elizabeth met Leala's eyes. "He loves you. He's just...stubborn."

"Well that is an understatement if I ever I heard one," Leala grumbled.

Elizabeth chuckled, sipping her water. "He's the kind of man that makes up his mind and then dives right in. I'm telling you, once he decides it's time, he's not going to ask to court you. He's going to ask to marry you."

"I find it a bit presumptuous that a man should think so much of himself that courtship should be skipped," said Leala, stabbing a bite of roast with her fork.

"Leala, how many times have I heard you say that you'd marry him tomorrow if he asked?" Elizabeth laughed.

"That is entirely beside the point," Leala said, abusing the poor bite of beef as if it were the face of the man she loved. The man who hadn't made a single move to tell her that he loved her, too, even though it was painfully obvious to anyone paying attention.

"Why are men so clueless when it comes to women?" Leala asked, finally giving up on the battle with her dinner and plopping the shredded meat in her mouth.

Elizabeth swallowed a bite of potatoes. "Maybe for the same reason they're forgetful."

Leala pouted, cocking her head to the side. "I wouldn't worry too much, Elizabeth. You know how Ferryl is. We've all been waiting for him to ask for your hand. Maybe he's just playing some sort of game with you before he finally proposes."

The bite in Elizabeth's mouth suddenly turned to ash. For what Leala didn't know—what no one yet knew—was that Ferryl had already asked for her hand—a sweet, intimate proposal at their Secret Place not a week ago. He had taken her hand in his, and she had marveled at the way he trembled, as if the crown prince of Navah should be nervous to speak to a common born nobody. But then he had proceeded to tell her words sweeter than any she had heard. And when he had said that only spending the rest of his life with her would suffice, she had shed a tear and kissed him thoroughly.

But then, like the snuffing of a candle, it had all been taken away. Because the very next morning, he hadn't known who she was. Perhaps that was the most perplexing part of all—the timing was too coincidental. Was someone trying to keep her away from Ferryl?

Leala shook her head and took a bite of her roast. "This is delicious, by the way. If at the end of all this you are relieved of your duties as a stable girl due to severe ineptitude, you can always work in the kitchens."

Elizabeth managed to smile. She did enjoy cooking and was a fairly decent cook, a trait at which Ferryl had always marveled on their many excursions to their Secret Place. Elizabeth had cooked many a fireside meal there—something Ferryl had caught or shot—while they flirted and laughed and dreamt of their lives together. But the thought soon brought a frown to her lips.