Alís sat quite still, holding her breath, staring at the curtain in front of her. Her match was on the other side, almost within reach, and in only a moment, the veil would be pulled aside and she would see his face. Without having to look, she was aware of her aunt, who now opened the curtain; it swept swiftly away, revealing the face of the man she had seen leaving the tea house. He sat opposite her, and when he saw her, his eyes lit up and a bright smile covered his face.

“Alís!” he greeted joyfully, getting to his feet.

She stood as well, speechless. He took her face into his hands gently, beaming down at her, but still she could not speak. She couldn’t seem to take her eyes off him, although she wished to look to her aunt and uncle for answers. It was as if they were the only two people in the room. She had never seen him so close, nor directly before; his smile was kind and his dark eyes held a deepness to them that captivated her.

“I don’t know your name,” she whispered.

He shook his head a little, as if she had said something funny, and bent down to kiss her.

The knock on the door abruptly summoned Alís into her now waking body. It must be Aunt Jain knocking to wake her. Peering at the lattice shutters through barely open eyes, she could see that it was still dark, and her room was still chilled from the night. She did not try to fall back asleep, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to anyway, but she did lay in bed a while longer for warmth. Her sleeping mind had played an unkind trick on her; she still had hours before she would meet her match for the first time.

A second knock sounded, and Alís called to allow entry.

“Oh you are awake,” Aunt Jain remarked when she opened the door. She herself was not dressed, only in a night dress and robe, without any sashes on. Her many braids were still wrapped in a satin scarf, not yet pinned up for the day. To Alís’ delight, Aunt Jain was holding a steaming cup of tea. “You only have time for one cup,” she warned, handing it to her niece as she sat up in bed. “Then it’s off to the bath house.” She hurried off to dress and Alís was left alone to warm herself with the herbal brew.

Once the cup was empty, Alís rose from the bed and got as ready as she could, knowing she would only undress again to bathe. She only tied her hair back to get it out of the way, rather than in a fashionable style. Unsure of whether she would be permitted to wear her string of beads or not, she tucked them into the pocket of her sash just in case. When she came downstairs, Aunt Jain was also dressed simply, a large bouquet of flowers in her arms as she waited by the door.

“After the bath house, we’ll visit a shrine to Tivos,” she smiled, turning the blossoms so Alís could appreciate their fragrance.

Uncle Ilyen was already behind the counter, fully dressed and preparing to open the tea house for the day.

“Enjoy the fuss as much as you can,” he encouraged as he sliced lemons into thin discs. “It may be tiring, but with the right outlook, it can be quite special.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Alís nodded, placing her now empty cup on the counter and leaning over it to kiss his cheek.

“Now go on so you’re not late. And don’t come back until you’re pretty,” he shooed her off while his wife rolled her eyes and led the way.

Alís had never seen the streets of Aldren so deserted; even at night there were those who had gone to a tavern or evening tea house still wandering, but now there was no sign of anyone else out this early. All the shop doors were still closed and the windows were shuttered, with the exception of a few bakeries, from which the lighter-than-air aroma of fresh flatbread wafted. Alís glanced at her aunt hopefully, but the matchmaker didn’t seem to notice, her mind likely occupied by the busy day before them.

In the shadow of the buildings, Alís felt as if they were walking in some dim canyon. Ahead she could see the warm yellow glow of a lantern hanging above a doorway. It was the bath house, identifiable by the traditional images of waterlilies carved on the door and the eaves of the low, angled roof.

“Is the bath house always open this early?” Alís wondered as they neared.

“Only by appointment,” Aunt Jain replied, sounding rather proud that the bath-keeper had made special arrangements just for her. She pushed the carved door open for her niece to enter first.

It was a much larger bath house than the one in the village; there were no baths in the first room they came to, only a desk like one might see at an inn, and seats to wait for appointments. A menu of sorts hung on the wall, with rates for various treatments and products, as well as hourly rates for public and private baths. As if she were attending on her own, Alís began to look for the cheaper options, which would have satisfied her personal needs, but Aunt Jain was busy speaking with the man that had just come from some other room. Likely they had already discussed pricing for an esteemed matchmaker.

“Everything is ready in bath four,” he was saying, gesturing to the curtained doorway. “As always, please ring the bell if you need anything at all, Madam Gerrin.”

The moment the heavy curtain was pulled aside, steam floated out lazily, bringing with it a soothing blend of herbal scents. Alís went in, as gestured by Aunt Jain, finding herself in a hazy hall with numbered doorways, once again closed by curtains of velvet and strings of wooden beads. Passing the entrances until she was at the one labeled four, she glanced at her aunt.

“This must be terribly expensive,” she worried.

“Never mind,” Aunt Jain shook her head. “This sort of thing is included in the matchmaker’s fee. Go on.”

She obeyed, coming to the haziest room of them all, where an enormous square tub sat in the center. She could see the glow of hot coals at her feet beneath the large bath, and the surface of the water danced and stirred with heat invitingly. Glancing over her shoulder to make sure that the curtain door was closed, she untied her sash and unwrapped her simple dress; Aunt Jain took them readily, folding them carefully and placing them in a basket off to the side, along with the bouquet she had brought. Naked, Alís stepped into the hot water that eagerly swallowed her body. The bath was lined with green and blue ceramic tiles that were smooth to the touch. Bottles of varying sizes and colors, as well as a dish holding a bar of creamy speckled soap sat within reach, but for now she wanted to just soak in the warmth for a quiet moment. The low-ceilinged room felt very old, and full of time, but it was quite clean and well cared for.

“In a moment, we’ll be joined by a few attendants,” Aunt Jain told her, sitting on the edge of the tub. “They will help wash your body and face and… my heavens, all of that hair.”

“Sometimes I think about cutting it,” Alís smirked, closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the tiled edge of the tub. “But I don’t think I would quite be myself without it.”

“It suits you,” she agreed. “And on a day like today, a traditional style can be very useful. You might be surprised at how easily clients are influenced by a painting come to life.”

“I should wear my beads then?”

“Oh yes. I know you and your sister always do, but it’s not uncommon for other brides to do so on matchmaking and wedding days. Funny how traditions suddenly become important.”

There was a quiet pause until Aunt Jain seemed to remember what she had been saying.

“After bathing,” she continued. “The attendants will style your hair, and apply cosmetics and perfume and all those things. Your gown and robes will be delivered from the seamstress by then.”

“Uncle Ilyen was right. It is a lot of fuss.”

“You can enjoy it,” she reminded. “If you let yourself. Getting all dressed up can be nice, hm? Wait until you see how you look.”

“Gods, I wish I were Lilia right now,” Alís chuckled. “She loves beautiful things.”

“If she hasn’t changed since I saw her last,” Aunt Jain mused with a laugh. “Then I seem to remember that she finds beauty everywhere. One visit, she brought me a fly that she found laying on the window sill. ‘It looks like a jewel,’ she told me. ‘So green and shiny.’ A dead fly.”

Alís squeezed her eyes shut even tighter, suddenly feeling rather homesick.

“Oh, dear,” Aunt Jain noticed with a sigh. “Don’t cry, sweet. Lilia will visit soon.”

She opened her eyes again, although there were a few tears lingering, blurring her vision. She took a few breaths to calm herself, grateful for the sweet herbal aroma all around her.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, I will be.”

“They’re finally here. Come in,” she called toward the doorway, and three young women entered and bowed. “Good morning, ladies. This is Alís, the bride-to-be.”

Alís nodded her head in a bow to greet them, and the three of them busied themselves right away. One poked at the coals beneath the tub while the other two neared the corner where Alís sat. They spoke very little, only giving her brief instructions in hushed tones, asking her to turn this way or that, or give her arm or other body part to be washed. They used soft bristled brushes to scrub her, sometimes using the bar of soap, and other times various syrups from the glass bottles that foamed when they rubbed it in their hands. Most of the things they used smelled lovely, either of sweet herbs or delicate blossoms, until a thick sort of jelly was smeared all over her face; it reminded her of a bitter medicine, and of course the pungent smell was far stronger than the sweet aromas that had previously filled the steamy room. Alís glanced at her aunt, who returned her gaze with a sympathetic grimace, and she decided not to complain, although even sweet Lilia would not have been able to find beauty in the sludge that coated her skin.

Of course, washing her waist-length hair took a bit of time, but it was the most pleasant part, and Alís did not have to convince herself to enjoy it, despite the sticky herbal concoction still on her face. Although she did not care much for luxury, she decided that if she were to find herself with a comfortable amount of wealth, she would still like to come to a bath house to have someone else wash her hair for her. Perhaps she would even live in a large enough house that had its own private bath. She had no idea what sort of background her future husband came from.

“Do you have a lot of clients like me?” she asked.

“Like you in what way?”

“Sash patters.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know that term,” Aunt Jain folded her hands together curiously.

“Sash patters,” Alís said again. “They pat the sashes of those they meet to see what might be hidden in the pockets.”

“Someone after money?” the matchmaker clarified, her dark eyes wide with disbelief. “Alís, you are not a… sash patter.”

Of course, now was the time for Alís to scrub the horrid smelling slime off her face, so she was unable to answer for a long moment. And immediately following that, she was instructed by the attendants to leave the tub, stepping into an enormous towel that they held for her. Once dry, she remained wrapped in it, sitting on the chair that was waiting for her off to the side while the three ladies began drying her hair in sections with many small towels.

“Alís,” Aunt Jain’s voice was stern, but gentle, as she prodded to return to their conversation. “What makes you say such a thing?”

“Well I am not exactly finding a match for love.”

“Plenty of practical matches fall in love, in time.”

“And this is a very practical match, of course.”

“Did your uncle give something away?” the matchmaker narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“All Uncle Ilyen told me,” Alís began while her hair was combed. “Is that I will almost certainly be taking my husband’s family name, not the other way around. And even that little information was after much insistence. He refused to say more.”

Aunt Jain let out a sigh, looking quite relieved.

“I thought you might have looked into things,” she shook her head. “You are a very clever girl, and if you wanted to, I’m sure you could have learned everything on your own quite easily.”

“I like surprises,” Alís chuckled. “I wouldn’t want to spoil things for myself. And I trust you and Uncle Ilyen to match me with someone that will suit me. In fact, you seem more nervous than I am.”

“That is almost certainly true.”

“How long will this take?” Alís looked up at the attendants who were braiding and tucking her long hair into an elaborate traditional style; she had already lost count of the pins they had used. “I don’t mean to sound impatient,” she added quickly.

“At least an hour,” one of them replied.

“Perfect. Aunt Jain, why don’t you use the bath while you wait? Just to relax.”

“Oh, I shouldn’t,” she protested, glancing at the shimmering, steaming water.

“I saw the prices,” Alís argued with a smile. “You’re paying for the room, not for each person. Go on, there’s plenty of time.”

After hesitating a moment more, Aunt Jain relented, undressing and getting into the tiled tub with a long, slow exhale. Alís smiled to herself once her aunt’s eyes were closed, choosing to sit quietly while the three ladies worked on transforming her into a traditional beauty.

Giving her mind the freedom to wander aimlessly from thought to thought, Alís allowed the expert hands to practice their art on her, only half aware of the combs, hair pins, creams, and fine tipped brushes that passed over her hair and face. A messenger arrived after some time, bearing large parcels wrapped in brown paper and twine. Aunt Jain instructed her to lay them on the shelf, waiting for the curtain to close once more before emerging from the bath to dry and dress quickly.

“Feeling better?” Alís inquired, watching the matchmaker cross the room to inspect the delivery from the tailor.

“Mm, yes,” Aunt Jain replied absently, already back to work. She untied the strings of the first parcel and unfolded the edges of the paper, like a blossoming flower, revealing bright silk within.

Alís found herself craning her neck to see, suddenly curious. Although she had gotten many new clothes over the past several months, none were as colorful or fine as what she would be wearing today. Noticing her interest, Aunt Jain lifted the robe by the shoulders so Alís could better see the lustrous pink material, edged in a wide trim embroidered with roses and leaves.

“I thought it would be poetic,” Aunt Jain smiled. “To match your name.”

“Very poetic,” Alís agreed, but then she was asked to close her eyes by one of the attendants, so she was unable to see the next parcels being opened. She could feel more combs and hair ornaments being placed in her hair, and a thin brush swept over her eyelids, followed by a gentle breeze as one of the attendants waved a fan to dry the cosmetics. Finally, her lips were painted precisely; although her eyes were closed, she knew it was traditional berry red.

“We’ll have to hurry now,” Aunt Jain said. “Let’s get you dressed.”

After putting on her underthings on her own, Alís stepped in front of the mirror to let the others help her dress in the traditional, formal clothes. Even before stepping into the stiff brocade skirt of spring yellow, she smiled at her reflection; the expert attendants had done beautiful work on her. Her eyes had been lined and accented elegantly, and a small, perfect red circle had been painted on each cheek, matching her now vibrant lips. The style they had pulled her black hair into was intricate but elegant, and adorned with combs in the shape of flying birds, and long gold pins with beaded tassels that swung when she moved. Aunt Jain looked very pleased as she stood off to the side, her chin resting on her hand in an approving way as the three ladies helped Alís put on both layers of robes, each a different rosy shade. They were careful in making sure that the long and full sleeves were nested properly, and that the edges of each layer had wrapped across her chest evenly, even securing them with hidden buttons inside. The first sash was the kind that laced tightly, and was much wider than the everyday sashes that were popular these days, covering her entire middle. The second sash was incredibly long, and they wrapped it around her waist thrice before tying; even after tying a complicated knot, the ends fell almost to her knees.

Aunt Jain brought the string of beads from the basket of Alís’ own clothes, fastening them around her niece herself.

“There,” she said with a bright smile. “What do you think?”

“Worth the fuss, perhaps.”

“Ah, perhaps,” she smirked, turning to thank the attendants, reminding them that the bath keeper would pay them outside. “Now let us hurry to the shrine to pay our respects, and then back to the tea house.”

Alís was relieved that the traditional clothes were not too difficult to move around in; although the waist was tight and the skirt had little movement to it, there was enough space for her to walk comfortably. The outermost robe was long enough to trail on the ground, but the hem had been neatly folded up and tucked into her sashes for ease of travel; once they were at the tea house, it would be let down. She didn’t mind that the tight sash caused her to stand up a bit straighter than she normally might. It was a small discomfort to pay for the chance at a new future.

Leaving the bath house, it was almost as if they had been transported to a different street. Not only was it a bright, sunny morning, but it was rather crowded now, with people on foot, in carts, and upon horses and donkeys. Aunt Jain took Alís by the hand to keep them together as they navigated the now busy street. The shrine to Tivos was not directly on the way home, but it was in a nearby alley. There were a few others already there, most dressed up like Alís was in traditional clothes. One young man was fully dressed in wedding clothes of many sashes, pouring water over the carved stone feet of Tivos. Aunt Jain passed her niece the bouquet to lay at the shrine, stepping aside to greet another matchmaker there.

Once one of the other worshippers had finished their prayers and offerings and made room, Alís approached the shrine. She knelt on the low stool, careful to manage her trailing sleeves. Silently praying for a successful match, she placed the flowers with the others. There were blooms of all colors strewn at the base of the small house frame that the god of love and marriage lived in, and their sweet fragrance filled the air. Taking up the ladle, Alís filled it in the trough below, letting the water trickle over the god’s feet. She wondered if she should even pray for love to come to the match; maybe it would happen in time, but she had other things to worry about until then. She noticed that those kneeling on either side of her had already been replaced by new worshippers, and concluded her prayer to make room for the next.

Aunt Jain hastily bid farewell to the other matchmaker and joined her niece. Neither spoke as they made their way back to the tea house, each deep in her thoughts. When they returned, there were a few customers seated, mostly regulars that always came in for a pot of tea before the work day. Those that knew Alís smiled and bowed to her from their seats, clasping their hands together and shaking them toward her in a gesture of good luck. Touched by their well wishes, Alís bowed gratefully in return. Aunt Jain instructed her to go upstairs to the parlor, but before she set foot on the stairs, the chimes over the door twinkled, and Droln entered, out of breath.

“I thought I’d miss you,” he huffed, hurrying over to her.

“You nearly did,” she nodded a head up the stairs. “Is something wrong?”

“No, I just- ” he paused to take a few big breaths, his hands on his hips. “I wanted to wish you luck. Here.” From his sashes he pulled a small pendant of smooth red stone, carved in an eternal knot. “I know you’re used to jade of green and white, but this is jade from my home. It should still be lucky, I hope.”

“Ah, how thoughtful,” Alís murmured, moved by the gesture.

“Linn usually wore it on a chain around her neck,” he continued, looking at the pendant in his hand. “But perhaps you can add it to your string of beads.”

“This belonged to your sister?” she found herself whispering. It was an even kinder gift than she had thought. “Droln, I shouldn’t take this, it’s too precious.”

“From one sister to another,” he insisted, holding it out to her.

“Alís!” Aunt Jain whispered frantically from behind the counter, putting enormous gold and turquoise earrings on. “They’ll be here any minute!”

“I don’t have time now,” Alís sighed, taking the pendant and placing it safely within a pocket of her own sashes. “But I will string it on later. Thank you. Truly. I’d kiss you if I weren’t all painted.”

“You do look ridiculous,” Droln chuckled. “But very nice. You’d better hurry upstairs. I’ll come for tea tonight and you can tell me everything.”

She squeezed his hand and climbed the stairs before Aunt Jain could scold her again. The upstairs parlor had been cleaned and rearranged. Uncle Ilyen was there, putting final touches on everything; there were flowers in vases all around, and he was busy pulling the woven curtain across the room. Alís had noticed the rod that spanned the length of the room before, but now it split the space in two, concealing the other side.

“Ah, who’s that?” Uncle Ilyen teased when he noticed her, pausing his task to look at her fully. “Sorry miss, this is a private parlor.”

“They did a good job, didn’t they?” Alís turned around once to show him.

“Indeed they did,” he came over to help untuck the hem of her outer robe, lowering it to the ground so that it flowed behind her like water. “Ah, you look just like a painting.”

“I wish Lilia could see. She’d be only a little jealous.”

A giggle sounded from behind the curtain, followed by a shush.

“I’m no good at surprises!” Lilia’s voice protested, not even quiet enough to be a whisper.

Her eyes wide, Alís passed her chuckling uncle to come around the curtain where her brother and sister waited.

“We’ve been found out!” the youngest squeaked, jumping up from her seat to embrace her sister.

“You’re here,” Alís managed breathily, her throat suddenly tight as Lilia pulled her close.

Yan stood and joined them, putting his arms around both.

“Don’t cry, Al,” he comforted with a kiss on her head. “You’ll ruin the paint. Ah, you smell so nice.”

“And you really look nice too,” Lilia added, touching the large red tassels that hung from her waist. “Like a princess in a song.”

Unable to say anything for a moment, Alís closed her eyes and savored being held by both of them. Lilia wasn’t quiet for long, too excited to keep her thoughts to herself.

“All along we kept saying it was a shame that you wouldn’t have anyone sitting with you today, except Aunt and Uncle, and they’re making the match anyway, so we couldn’t have you alone so I asked and begged and Papa finally said yes, so we’re here!”

Yan let them both go and they stood apart slightly, all holding hands.

“I’m so glad to see you,” Alís shook her head, still blinking to keep from crying. “Lil, are those my sashes?”

“None of mine were nice enough for an important meeting,” she defended with a sheepish look.

“Never mind,” Alís shook her head. “I’m just glad you’re here. And Yan, you even combed your hair.”

“I can uncomb it if you’d like,” he threatened good-naturedly.

“You’d better get settled behind the curtain, all of you,” Uncle Ilyen waved them away, glancing at the stairs, and they obeyed.

There were three chairs, one in the center facing the curtain, and the other two on either side, slightly behind. Alís took her place in front, trying to imagine what sort of man would be seated in the chair opposite her. Lilia seemed to be thinking the same thing.

“What if he’s old?” she whispered, sitting on the edge of her seat.

“Lil, behave,” Yan scolded, but he sounded more anxious than annoyed.

“I don’t mind older men,” Alís replied in a hushed voice, still facing forward. The man she had seen from her window was certainly older than her, and she quite liked the way he looked.

“But what if he’s not just older, but old? Grey hair and no teeth and everything.”

Alís was about to say something about their aunt being too considerate to pair her with an elderly man, but before she could say anything, the sound of footsteps on the stairs began to grow louder. Due to the stiff nature of her clothing, she was already sitting up quite straight, but she did make other small adjustments, such as arranging her sleeves and the hem of her robe.

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“She’s already here?” a man’s low voice asked; Alís recognized it as the one she had heard through her bedroom door, and the memory of that morning’s dream taunted her once more. Her heartbeat quickened at the thought of seeing him so close in just a short while.

“Yes, she and her family are seated on the other side,” Aunt Jain replied, her tone even more polite and calm than usual. “Please make yourselves comfortable.”

More footsteps sounded as they settled in their chairs, and Aunt Jain came into view, standing at the edge of the curtain so that both sides could see her. She smiled at Alís, but it seemed more of a neutral, courteous smile than one she would normally give her. Alís was reminded that it was more than likely that those sitting on the other side of the curtain were unaware of their familial connection. Uncle Ilyen stood on the opposite end of the partition, but he was daring enough to wink at his niece.

“Thank you all for coming today,” Aunt Jain began, speaking to both parties, her tone even and welcoming. “The parting of the curtain at a first meeting is a long-held custom in the tradition of matchmaking, and I’m so pleased that you have chosen to partake in it. First is the exchange of names.” She gestured first to Alís, who was glad that she had just been speaking with her siblings, as her voice would not be as subdued and rough as it normally might this early in the day.

“My name is Alís Rinak,” she announced, just as she had practiced before. At the time, she had thought it foolish that Aunt Jain insisted she rehearse her own name, but now that she was here in the curtained room, she was glad of it. The instructions she had been given on exactly how to enunciate and practically sing her words had been irritatingly detailed, but she was so pleased with the result that she was astonished to hear an introduction given back.

“My name is Jallés Orin,” the man on the other side of the curtain said, surprising Alís; he sounded softer than she was expecting, but perhaps he was nervous. She hadn’t considered that perhaps he would be as anxious as she was about their first meeting.

“Alís is twenty years old,” Aunt Jain proceeded with the introductions. “She is preparing for the civil service exam, and specializes in linguistics. In addition to scholarly pursuits, she has artistic interests, including poetry, calligraphy, music, and dance.”

As the matchmaker spoke, Alís found herself holding her breath, hoping that those sitting on the other side of the partition would approve of everything that was being said about her.

“Sitting with Alís today are her brother Yan, and her sister Lilia.”

There was a very brief pause before Aunt Jain continued.

“Jallés is twenty-seven years old. He has already taken the initial civil service exam, but is preparing for the next level of exam for the study of law. He is interested in classic literature and history.”

Alís found herself sitting up even straighter than before; she had yet to meet anyone who was as interested in books as she was, but it seemed that he had been found. Even though the curtain had yet to be drawn, she found herself thanking Tivos, and indeed her aunt and uncle, for introducing a match that loved to read.

“Sitting with Jallés is his mother Elaine Orin, and his godfather, my lord King Gaon.”

So not only was she about to meet her future husband, but the king himself. And it was likely she would see the king fairly often, given that her match was his godson. It of course made sense now that Uncle Ilyen had said she would likely take Jallés’ family name. Without turning around, Alís could tell that her sister was anxiously squirming at the introduction of the king, and that Yan was likely gesturing at her to sit still.

“If you are ready, we will now part the curtain for your first meeting.” Aunt Jain looked to each of them, and after receiving confirmation, pulled the braided rope that caused the woven partition to sweep to one side.

Seated across from Alís was a stranger; not the man whose face she had memorized from afar. Before her sat a lanky young man, who sat quite upright; his hands clasped the edge of his seat, but they could hardly turn paler from the firm grip, as his skin was already rather fair, except for his cheeks, which were glowing like hot coals. His hair was dark and short, flying every which way as if he had been running, although it seemed that it would look like that no matter what he did. His eyes, which stared directly into Alís’, were a watery blue. Like her, he was dressed in traditional clothes, with two long sleeved robes wrapped across his chest and secured by a stiff sash, but Alís imagined that even without the constricting garment, his posture would remain the same. Although most men in the traditional robes looked stately, Jallés appeared merely uncomfortable and out of place. Perhaps even frightened.

Now that Alís had gotten her initial view of him, she bowed to greet him, offering the nervous fellow a smile. He also bowed and tried to smile back, but his lips were pressed so tightly together that it was more like a grimace. Perhaps with a genuine smile he might be almost handsome, but such a natural and relaxed expression might not come for a little while.

Aunt Jain was speaking again, but Alís hardly heard her, as she had suddenly taken notice of those who sat beside Jallés. Opposite Yan sat an elegant middle aged woman, evidently her future mother-in-law. Alís bowed to greet her, looking then to the other side to acknowledge the king as well, but she was so surprised at the sight of him that she froze.

The very man that Alís has witnessed leaving the tea house the day of the first meeting was sitting across from Lilia, wearing the gold medallion of the king. He was dressed formally as well, although his robes were simpler than the extravagant ones the potential couple wore. His eyes were on Alís, as if he were measuring her; he did not smile, although his expression was not too grim. He must have met with her aunt and uncle on behalf of his godson, but when she saw him, she had assumed that he was her match. She realized that she had not yet bowed to him, so she did so hastily from her seat, feeling quite foolish. She wished she had gathered her wits sooner, but she couldn’t tell how much time had passed since the curtain had been pulled aside; perhaps it was only a brief moment that she had neglected her manners. Still, it felt as if everyone in the room were staring at her. Her face felt hot and her throat was dry, but she tried to focus on her breathing.

“After we all have tea,” Aunt Jain was saying. “We will give Alís and Jallés time to speak to one another, as informally as they like.”

Uncle Ilyen gestured to the table set for tea, carefully and wordlessly prompting each person to take the proper seat according to the matchmaking traditions. They were seated in the same formation that they had been in just now, with the table in the center in place of the curtain. Lilia made herself useful by helping Alís arrange the trailing hem of her outer robe so that she would not have to awkwardly stoop.

“What’s wrong?” Lilia whispered as she adjusted her sister’s garments.

“The king,” Alís said stupidly.

“Don’t be nervous,” the younger sister encouraged, of course having no understanding of the mistake Alís had made. Either way, she had been able to tell that she was not quite herself, so Alís forced herself to relax, and did her best to maintain a pleasant expression on her face. She had to get used to the idea that the fellow across from her was her match, not the king. As it was, Jallés seemed nervous enough for the both of them. Now that they were sitting much closer to one another, he seemed overwhelmed by the proximity, and hardly lifted his eyes. His cheeks were still a bashful shade of red.

There was no question that Lilia was the youngest present, so she carefully rose from her seat to pour the tea, starting with the king. Alís knew that such a responsibility meant a lot to her sister, but perhaps she had been practicing. Once each cup had been filled, and Lilia had taken her seat beside her sister, Aunt Jain raised her cup. The rest of the party followed suit, looking to the matchmaker to begin the next portion of the meeting.

“Drink and enjoy,” she encouraged. “Now is the time to learn about one another’s families; anyone may ask a question if it comes to mind.” She took the first sip to officially begin the tea time, and there was a brief silence before anyone was bold enough to begin the conversation. Alís glanced at her older brother, who gave her a small nod; she suspected he had come prepared with questions on behalf of their parents, but he seemed to be waiting for her to speak before him.

“Madam Gerrin says that your family owns land,” Jallés’ mother began before Alís even decided which question she wanted to ask.

“It’s called Summervale, in Salmü,” Yan replied, speaking on behalf of their father. “It’s two days east from Aldren.”

“I know that village,” she replied with a nod. “Our family land is outside of Merr; about halfway between here and Salmü. We call it Cypresswood.”

Without having to worry about appearing polite, Alís smiled at this news; this meant that any time spent at the Orin manor would be a chance to see her family. It was an even better situation than she had been imagining.

“Do you grow anything there?” Lilia spoke up, using her very best grown up tone.

“Oh yes. Peaches, plums, grapes,” Madam Orin listed, her eyes squinting a little as she tried to remember. “Dates. Olives some years. Am I forgetting anything?” She looked to her son, who shook his head, but still kept his gaze lowered. “Jallés manages the estate and winery. What do you grow?”

Lilia’s eyes had grown wide at the many crops named, but blinked to return to a normal expression and kept her head high as she replied carefully.

“Oranges,” she said proudly.

Alís immediately sipped her tea to prevent a laugh from escaping; they had less than a dozen trees in their grove. It was hardly comparable to what must be many acres of farmland and orchards. She decided to change topics before any more questions about their humble homestead could be asked.

“I am curious about your family symbol,” she looked to Madam Orin at first, but then turned her gaze toward the still silent son. “I saw that it is a bird of sorts, but I’m afraid I couldn’t tell whether it is a raven or a crow.”

There was a pause, where both Madam Orin and Jallés waited for the other to speak; the mother shifted in her seat ever so slightly, possibly due to nudging her son with her foot, and he at last raised his head to speak to Alís.

“It’s a raven,” he clarified, clearing his throat. “It’s a sign of prosperity.”

Another brief pause, and another possible nudge occurred beneath the table. Alís maintained her smile, trying to remain patient with his bashfulness; she wished they could skip ahead in the day so that just the two of them could speak and be friendly without the weight of tradition surrounding them.

“What is the Rinak family symbol?” he managed to ask, although he could only look at her directly for a moment before being overwhelmed once more.

“Clover leaves and a blossom,” Alís replied, about to continue to the meaning, but she couldn’t help but notice that her aunt looked suddenly quite uneasy. Following her anxious gaze, she saw that the Gerrin family symbol, also a pattern of clover leaves and blossoms, was inlaid into the floor with different shades of wood. Indeed similar images were carved, woven, and painted in various places all over the parlor.

The king sat forward a little, looking first at the matchmaker, then her husband, and then Alís, who now felt quite hot.

“The clover,” he mused. “A sign of sincerity, isn’t it?”

“No, my lord,” Alís replied, grateful that her voice was steady.

“It is,” he insisted before she could say more. She hesitated; shouldn’t it be terrible to contradict the king twice in a row? His gaze was as intent as it had been in her dream. More so, even.

“It is,” she agreed slowly. “For the four leaf clover, I believe. The Rinak family symbol is a three leaf clover.”

“Indeed?” the king sat back in his chair, an amused half smile forming. “And what is it a sign of?”

“Loyalty.”

Lilia stood, perhaps too quickly, to refill everyone’s cups, and Alís forced herself to relax, although she could feel the king’s gaze on her still. As questions continued to be passed back and forth, Alís noticed that her aunt was still warily glancing at the king, although she managed to politely engage in the conversation. Madam Orin did not seem to notice, and Jallés was of course still interacting with his cup more than anyone seated at the table. Once the two pots of tea had been emptied, it was time to continue to the next part of the day.

“Ilyen, dear,” Aunt Jain addressed her husband. “Will you please draw the curtain again?”

He obliged, once more separating the room into two, then disappeared behind it.

“Now Alís and Jallés will have an opportunity to get to know one another on their own.”

The two of them crossed to the other side of the curtain, where Uncle Ilyen was just finishing the rearrangement of the furniture; two of the chairs were now beside one another, next to the window. He gestured to the seats to invite them, then excused himself and joined the rest of the party on the other side of the curtain.

At last they were alone. Alís looked to Jallés to see if his posture might relax now that there were fewer eyes on him, but still he stood awkwardly, avoiding eye contact. Although she was frustrated at the young man’s lack of friendliness, she decided to uphold her end of the interaction; perhaps if she were warm toward him, he might even manage to look at her or even smile. Without waiting for him, she took a seat.

“Thank you again for the gift,” she began, choosing to speak softly so that there was less of a chance that their conversation would be overhead. “I have always preferred practical things.”

He hastily sat opposite her, as if he had just realized that the empty chair was for him. He nodded his head a little in a bow to respond to her, and even opened his mouth a little, but closed it again without speaking.

“Is there something you wanted to say?” she prompted, still keeping her voice gentle, hoping she could convince him to warm to her. “Please be as frank as you like.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” he sighed, fidgeting with the end of his long sash. “You must find me terribly rude. Or… disagreeable.”

“I was under the impression that you were merely nervous,” she told him honestly. “Although I can’t figure out what about me is so frightening. I am quite small after all.”

“Beautiful people make me nervous.”

Now it was Alís’ turn to blush.

“Ah, you’ve been fooled by the hard work of the bath house attendants,” she joked.

“I’ve seen you before,” he countered, with a small shake of his head. “I know what you look like ordinarily.”

“You’ve seen me?”

“You’re friends with Tolké’s companion,” he nodded knowingly.

“Captain Droln? Yes, we’re good friends.”

Jallés nodded again, but didn’t say more. Alís wondered how much time they had left to be alone; she hadn’t learned anything about him yet.

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” she asked, hoping to find something in common between them.

“Just me.” He was back to the brief replies.

She sat back in her chair, as much as she could in the restrictive clothes. The day was beginning to feel like a waste. It was quite unfair that she was the only one putting in the effort; she didn’t care how nervous he was. He seemed to notice her frustration, and shifted in his seat as well, somehow managing to look even more anxious, glancing at the curtain.

“I…” he began, but didn’t seem to know what he even wanted to say. “We both like books.”

She looked at him, waiting for him to go on. He looked like he was starting to panic; she had been tolerating him well enough until now, but perhaps now he was realizing that politeness against silence could only last so long.

“Do you like to read about history and natural science?”

Finally, a question.

“I’m not sure,” she replied. “I’ve only read a little history. Most of what I read is fanciful. Poems, songs, stories.”

“I see.” He was quiet again for a moment; even their commonality was quite different. Another awkward pause floated between them; Alís knew she could choose to attempt another question, but she decided to leave it to him to continue the conversation again. The longer they sat, the more he fidgeted, until he suddenly spoke again, and his words came out in a burst. “This is not my first potential match,” he declared, exasperated. “I know I’m not supposed to mention that, but it’s true. I have met with three… no, four other girls before you.”

“What was wrong with them?” Alís asked in a flat voice, but then realized she was being cruel. She took a small breath and sat up again. “Forgive me, that was unkind of me.”

“You’re right to mock me,” he muttered, embarrassed. “Each was as beautiful and intelligent and accomplished as you are. And each time I stuttered and mumbled, or said almost nothing, or too much.”

Alís raised an eyebrow at the idea of him being too talkative, but he nodded to assure her it was true.

“After the first disaster meeting when I was silent, I tried to force myself to speak. I ended up practically giving a lecture on the history of the province.”

“Oh dear,” she sighed, starting to pity him. “What did the king think of that?”

“That was before my mother involved him.”

“Do you wish that she hadn’t?”

“No,” he began slowly. “He means well, of course. And yet, I hate to disappoint him.”

“He seems serious. Forgive me if this is too forward, but how is that he is your godfather? He isn’t old enough, I would think.”

“Less than ten years between us,” Jallés nodded. “We are related, although there isn’t just one word to describe how.”

“Your mother’s uncle’s husband’s cousin?” she wondered jokingly.

“That’s right.” His eyes widened at her accidental accuracy.

“Oh?” she smirked. “Luckiest guess I ever made.”

He shook his head a little and even smiled a little at the absurdity.

“Well anyway, Three - I mean, Gaon the third, the king’s father; he was my real godfather, when I was named. So when he died, Four became my godfather.”

“You call the king ‘Four’?” Alís scoffed in amusement. “I suppose it makes sense within the family with so many shared names. But why did Four inherit… you?”

“Heirs to thrones inherit everything.”

“What a strange tradition.”

“It’s the law, as a matter of fact.”

Alís noticed that Jallés was now sitting with quite a normal posture, more relaxed now that he was talking about something he knew a lot about. Even though she had learned all she cared to on the topic, she decided it would be wise to encourage him to speak on it more.

“What is the purpose of such a law?”

“To maintain things through a change of power, mostly,” he explained matter-of-factly. “Relationships, land ownership and other assets - debt included. There have been rulers in the past that had stepped down in favor of their heir in an attempt to clear debt and other unfavorable agreements.”

Despite not being interested in the law or its history, Alís listened attentively, looking for things to admire in her match. He was certainly intelligent and well spoken, once he had something to speak about. She imagined he knew quite a lot about how the kingdom was run. Perhaps he could be a useful resource when she studied for the exam.

He went on to tell her about the other things that a ruler might inherit from their predecessor, and Alís was sure to ask questions when appropriate, despite finding the subject fairly dull. Perhaps it was more important for him to like her for now, and she could grow to like him later. Before too long, Uncle Ilyen came back to their side of the curtain to tell them that this portion of the day was over.

Although towards the end, Jallés had gotten far more relaxed than when they had started, he did not hesitate to leave the curtained area to join the rest of the party. Alís stood to follow, but her uncle stopped her.

“The king wanted to speak with you.”

“Alone? Is that usual for these sorts of meetings?”

“Not usual,” he tilted his head from side to side. “But not terribly unusual.”

“Alright,” she nodded, taking a deep breath to prepare herself.

Uncle Ilyen disappeared and the king came to meet her soon after. Alís bowed, smiling politely, although her insides were quivering.

“Miss Rinak,” he said, his hands clasped behind his back. “Let us be frank with one another. What are your intentions with my godson?”

“Marriage,” she replied as coolly as she could. He was so much taller than her, and his face was more somber than it was in any of her dreams.

“Yes, I know,” he nearly huffed. “I mean why have you sought the services of a matchmaker?”

“I beg your pardon,” Alís was taken aback by his direct question.

“There must be some reason,” he went on, speaking in a near whisper, although his words had all the intensity as if he were speaking with his full voice. “As you are quite beautiful and intelligent, why have you been unable to find a match on your own?”

“My lord,” she gasped, feeling quite insulted now. Although she had spoken with her aunt that morning about seeking an advantageous match for money, she found it quite rude to be accused of such a thing.

“Tell me the truth, Miss Rinak - are Madam and Master Gerrin relatives of yours?”

For now the second time that day, she felt frozen. Should she lie? He would certainly learn the truth if she did. But to reveal the truth might reflect badly on not only the family, but the integrity of her aunt’s matchmaking business. And yet, Alís was not the one who had made the arrangement, she was only a piece on the board. The king had said for both of them to be frank, so she decided that was what she must do.

“Master Gerrin is my mother’s brother,” she said calmly.

King Gaon let out a frustrated sigh, even pacing a little.

“You have some nerve, Miss, making a fool of me like this.”

“I beg your pardon, my lord, but I have done no such thing.”

“Haven’t you?” he turned on her, looming over her like a dark tree. His eyes seemed to burn with anger, but she was grateful that he had not raised his voice at her. “Have you not lied and tricked your way into this opportunity?”

“Every word I have said has been true.”

“True, perhaps, but carefully selected. Omitting things for your convenience.”

Her heart was pounding now; when she woke that morning, how was she to know that she would be in an argument with the king? She almost wanted to flee and shut herself in her corner bedroom, but she couldn’t bear to think of how embarrassed her aunt and uncle would be. Perhaps this didn’t have to be the end.

“My side of the match is not the only one that has omitted things,” she said, standing as tall as she could.

“No?”

“For instance, that I am the fifth attempt at a match for Jallés.”

The king hesitated for just a moment.

“Your aunt told you that.”

“She did not,” Alís crossed her arms. “I don’t think she even knows. And I do not intend this as an insult, but if after four previous attempts, your godson failed to find a match, then perhaps it would be wise to consider me, even if I happen to be the matchmaker’s niece.”

He grunted a little, but she couldn’t tell if he was agreeing with her or not.

“Maybe Jallés isn’t the man I imagined myself paired with,” she continued, noting to herself the irony of who she had indeed imagined. “But he is decent and respectable, and I would be willing to accept him, if an offer were made.”

“Before an offer is made,” the king stroked his beard, looking like a businessman negotiating. “Perhaps we should reveal any other things that have been omitted so far.”

“That is fair,” she nodded, and they both sat. “I will even begin. My family land is a mere ten acres, mostly woodland.”

“Jallés has very few friends,” the king confessed, looking more pitying of his godson than ashamed. “There are family connections, of course, but you would have to build any social relationships on your own.”

“I can manage that.”

“Do you intend to have children?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Jallés does as well. I’m sure you can understand that after so many failed matches, he was beginning to lose hope of the opportunity to have a family. I imagine he would be the sort of father that raises his children with reason and logic, as any student of the law might. Even if he may be too dull to entertain them.”

“I am a terrible cook.”

The king broke into an amused smile at this confession, even shaking his head a little.

“You would have staff to cook for you at the manor,” he told her. “That is hardly a flaw.”

“Well I find it embarrassing,” she couldn’t help smiling herself, looking down. “My sister is a wonderful cook, and a baker. And my mother makes several wonderful dishes, even though she is blind.”

“She is?” he asked, his voice suddenly quite soft. “I am sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t apologize. She hates to be pitied.”

He nodded, understanding, and there was a brief silence.

“My lord,” she sighed. “My family doesn’t have much money. But they have me. I intend to take the civil service exam, and serve however I may, and try to make life better for them. Marrying Jallés would give me the chance to do that.”

“I understand,” he nodded. “I am inclined to make the offer, if he agrees.”

----------------------------------------

“Sit here,” Alís patted a stool at the counter as she passed, going behind to finish preparing the pot of spiced red tea.

Lilia hopped into the seat happily, leaning her elbows on the counter to watch her sister work.

“Can you make it extra sweet, please?”

“Here.” Alís set a jar of honey near her. “Add as much as you want to your own cup.”

“When we meet with your husband later, will we be going to the royal palace?”

“He isn’t my husband yet,” Alís corrected. “Careful, it’s hot.”

“I know, I just like saying it. But are we?”

“Perhaps. We haven’t decided yet. Ah, my friend Droln is here.” She waved to the captain as he entered the tea house with a ring of the chimes over the door.

“Oh…” Lilia whispered to her sister as he neared. “You didn’t tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

Lilia did not answer, as Droln was now within earshot.

“Ayelle, Alís,” he greeted with a friendly smile. “Is this your sister?”

“Yes, this is Lilia. Half pot of your usual?”

“Ah, yes. Pleasure to finally meet you,” he bowed.

“Pleasure,” Lilia practically whispered, her cheeks pink. She then quickly ducked her head for a bow, almost forgetting.

“Water,” Alís announced, prompting Droln to lift the lid of his pot for her to pour the steaming kettle over the blend of dried leaves and spices. “How was your training today?”

“Difficult. But Sir Emyal told me I’ve made ‘notable improvement’ since last time.”

“Are you a knight?” Lilia wondered with a tilt of her head.

“Ah, not yet. One day. And you?” he smiled, causing her to quickly look away and pay sudden attention to the painted design on her teacup.

“Priestess,” she mumbled.

“She’s still studying,” Alís clarified, shaking her head at her sister’s shyness. “Two more years until she’s eighteen, and then she can take her vows.”

“My father wanted me to be a priest,” Droln nodded, pouring himself a cup of the dark brew. “Like him.”

“I didn’t know that,” Alís remarked. “Which order?”

“None,” he chuckled. “He doesn’t believe in any of the sects.”

“That’s unusual. What about you?”

“Well, I went to military academy. Take from that what you will.”

“How old are you?” Lilia suddenly asked, leaning her chin on her hand.

“I’m twenty-three.”

“Are you married?”

“Me? Ah, no.” He cast an inquisitive look at Alís as he took a slow drink of his tea. She rolled her eyes.

“Heaven and hell, Lil, leave him be.”

This quieted the girl, but she still gazed at the captain with stars in her eyes.

He avoided looking at her, feeling uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry,” Alís muttered in Kayuan. “She isn’t usually like this.”

“I don’t blame her,” Droln replied graciously. “I remember being that age; you have so many feelings, you just don’t know what to do with them.”

“She always said she wanted to marry a knight.”

This made Droln laugh, and although Lilia didn’t understand what they were saying, her entire face was now quite pink.

“Don’t do that!” she pleaded with her sister, embarrassed. “It isn’t fair.”

Alís refilled Lilia’s cup the rest of the way as a sort of apology, changing the subject.

“I wish you could have met Yan, but he’s helping my uncle with an incoming shipment of tea down at the dock.”

“Tomorrow, perhaps?”

“We go back to Salmü in the morning,” Lilia shook her head, apparently already over her embarrassment.

“Then I suppose I’ll just have to visit sometime,” the captain declared, although he nearly regretted saying so, as Lilia nodded rather enthusiastically at the suggestion. Looking to his friend for help, he found himself stranded as she once again rolled her eyes.

----------------------------------------

Now that the betrothal was official, Alís left the corner room above the tea house behind and moved into a room in the royal palace, in the same wing that Jallés and his mother had a suite. She was grateful for this time of transition that allowed her to get to know her future husband, as well as other members of court, while still having her own private room; she would even still see her aunt and uncle, as they decided she would continue to help out at the tea house a few days every week. She could hardly sleep the first night she stayed in her new room, but despite that, she woke early as always.

Lying in her new, enormous bed, she was surprised by the quiet of her surroundings. She could not hear carts and hooves and footsteps on the cobbled streets that she had gotten used to, but there was a chorus of songbirds from the grand garden that heralded the morning. Rising from the great bed, she pulled aside the curtains and opened the geometric latticed shutters to find that the sun was still barely showing on the horizon. The silhouette of the roofs of Aldren beyond the palace wall was like a range of mountains, with domes and towers instead of peaks. She was used to waking at such an hour, both in Salmü for tending the hens and mule, as well as in the last few months when she would rise to prepare the tea house for the day; she wondered if it was common for the others who resided in the royal palace to do so.

Opening her wardrobe, she searched through its contents for something to wear but found herself quite frustrated; although she had many new clothes now, she wasn’t sure what would be appropriate to select for the day. Now that she was surrounded by the grandeur of pillared halls decked in colorful tiles in elegant patterns, it felt like she should be wearing her very best gowns and robes, such as the traditional clothes she wore for her matchmaking day. But she would probably be overdressed, and then what would she do the next day? She wished she had paid more attention to what everyone was wearing on the day that Droln showed her the library, but of course she had books on her mind.

Feeling like she was wasting her own time, she randomly selected a pair of billowy trousers and an embroidered summer tunic and put them on, shaking her head at herself. She never used to care about what she looked like. Quickly dressing, she fastened the long string of beads around her waist, tied her sandals around her ankles, and left her room to explore her wondrous new home.

She wandered the halls quietly, admiring the colors of the mosaic floors and the elegant leaf patterns carved into the pillars. Hardly anyone seemed to be awake yet, as the only people she encountered were servants hurrying down corridors carrying baskets and tea trays and other things for their masters. There were a few galleries and other open rooms that Alís was able to pass through, and she wondered if she would ever get used to the splendor of her surroundings. Each chamber was richly decorated with tapestries and statues, and large vases holding exotic flowers were housed in every corner. Deciding that she would like to see the gardens, Alís searched for a staircase to take her down to the ground level; she eventually found one, which led to the courtyard where the prince had hosted his party the evening before. It was quite a different place now that no one was inside. Before, it had been lively and colorful, full of music and voices, and now only the solitary trickling of the fountain could be heard.

She soon came to another pillared courtyard, but this one was unadorned, with no hanging vines or urns overflowing with flowers. From a distance she could see a figure moving about inside, and as she neared she discovered that it was a young woman with a sword, practicing a series of turns and slashes. Alís watched the graceful movements, enjoying the sound of the steel cutting the air. Several moments passed until the young woman turned, seeing Alís and letting out a surprised cry.

"Forgive me," Alís bowed. "I did not mean to startle you."

"What are you doing here?" The lady came closer, speaking in a low voice and looking around to see if anyone else was near.

Alís thought she was one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen. Her complexion was dark and smooth, and her large brown eyes had the loveliest shape. Although she wore a simple tunic and trousers, it seemed clear that the only reason she was dressed so plainly was for the practicality of movement, as even the sashes she wore were made of an intricately patterned material. A hint of gold glinted from her chest and hung from her ears, and her black hair had been fashioned into countless braids and elegantly swept back at the nape of her neck.

“I’m only looking around,” Alís told her. “I'm sorry for intruding.”

“What is your name?”

“Alís Rinak.”

“Ah,” the young lady nodded knowingly. “From Salmü. I've heard about you.”

“I haven’t been here long,” Alís blinked, astonished.

“Word travels like wind in this city,” she shrugged, striding to a rack of swords to put hers away. “Be wary of whom you trust, or any secrets you might have will spread to every corner of the palace in a day, and every corner of the city by the next morning.”

“I don't have any secrets.”

“Well I do,” she said pointedly. “I ask that you tell no one you've seen me here today.”

“I don't even know your name,” Alís shook her head, laughing a little.

The young woman smiled, finally relaxing a little.

“Peleanchara Usul,” she replied, bowing politely. “Please call me Pel.”

“I will keep your secret, Pel,” Alís promised. “Usul? Sir Emyal Usul?”

“My father," Pel nodded, walking beside her as they left the courtyard.

“My friend is his student.”

“Ah yes, Captain Droln. He’s talented.”

“Do you live in here in the palace?”

“With my father, yes. Although we live in a wing separate from yours.”

Alís laughed incredulously at Pel’s extensive knowledge.

“You seem to know quite a lot about me,” Alís mused. “I thought I was a bit of a nobody in Aldren.”

“Things can change very quickly here. I make it my business to know everyone, even when they are just a nobody. Perhaps tomorrow they will be somebody.”

“May I ask what you have heard about me so far?”

“You're clever," Pel smirked. "It's good to know what others know. According to the rumors, you're betrothed to the king’s godson, whom you met through matchmakers. You’re close friends with Captain Droln, which will likely pay off sooner or later, given his ties to the prince. And you intend to take the civil service exam in the hopes of becoming a member of the king’s council.”

“I’m impressed,” Alís crossed her arms. “I have told very few people of my ambition.”

“That was not a rumor, I guessed it. Thank you for confirming.”

“Well, now I would like to know about your ambition.”

“My practice of swordplay? What of it?”

“Why is it a secret?”

Pel walked quietly for a moment, but then she shook her head.

“I’m afraid it’s too soon in our friendship to reveal that just yet. When I know I can trust you, I will tell you."

“I understand," Alís nodded, pleased that Pel had already spoken of friendship between them.