He couldn’t remember anybody’s names. Most of the time, Tove felt pretty fortunate that he could remember his fiancée’s name. That’s why, when they were introduced to people, Tove said very little, leaving it to Wendy to greet the guests at their engagement party.
At least the meet-and-greet part of the party was over, and they had moved on to eating. He glanced over at Wendy sitting next to him, her smile so wide it looked painful. Her aura was strained, looking a putrid mustard color, and he wondered, not for the first time, if he’d done the right thing asking her to marry him.
It seemed like the best thing to do when he asked her. From a political standpoint, she needed to rule the kingdom, and having the support of himself and his family behind her would help. In a personal sense, Tove didn’t want to force her to do this alone.
Besides that, it wasn’t like either of them could marry somebody they loved. But at least they liked each other. It would be better to marry a friend than end up in some cold prison like his parents’ marriage.
But sometimes, like when Wendy smiled politely at another one of his mother’s veiled insults, Tove thought he’d accidentally trapped her in this. He’d done this to help her—but maybe he’d also been selfish. Their engagement kept Aurora from asking too many questions about why Tove wasn’t dating.
Tove had only briefly considered leaving F?rening, accepting his fate and being banished. But he couldn’t go back to the human world. His abilities made him act out too bizarrely. When they started manifesting in his early teens, he’d actually been forced into inpatient treatment at a psychiatric hospital.
Finding out he was Trylle had been such a relief for him. When Finn had tracked him down and explained that he wasn’t insane, that all the things he could hear and do were real, it had been one of the happiest days of his life.
That’s why he couldn’t leave here. Giving up the chance at falling in love was a hefty price to pay, but for him it was worth it. Living a life outside of an insane asylum was good enough.
But maybe it was unfair to ask the same thing of Wendy.
“How are you doing?” Tove asked her quietly.
“Hmm?” She’d been absently picking at the salad in front of her.
He hadn’t eaten much of his own food, but events like this always made him lose his appetite. His head buzzed, even though he’d spent all morning draining his powers, and he felt a migraine growing at the base of his skull.
“How are you doing?” Tove repeated. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table and pushing his plate away from him.
Elora made a clicking sound with her tongue when he put his elbows on the table, but she said nothing. The one good thing about the party was that Wendy had been seated next to Aurora, and Tove had been seated next to Elora, so neither of them had to make awkward dinner conversation with strangers.
Tove, Wendy, and their parents, along with Garrett and Willa, all sat at one long table in the newly finished ballroom. They looked much like the Last Supper, all sitting on one side at the head table. Partygoers were seated throughout the ballroom, their voices a dull rumble echoing through the room.
“Dandy.” Wendy forced a smile at him. “How are you?”
“There’s still time.” He leaned in toward her, lowering his voice so it was barely audible. “We can still call this whole thing off. If you want.”
“No.” She lowered her eyes and shook her head, and he couldn’t tell for sure if she meant it or not. “I don’t want to.”
“Tove, what are you conspiring about?” Aurora bent forward to get a better look at him.
“Just whispering sweet nothings to one another.” Tove smiled thinly at her, and she narrowed her eyes. “You know how we young lovers are.”
Wendy laughed at that, a genuine sound, and when she smiled, it was absolutely dazzling. She looked so radiant when she was happy, even he had to appreciate her beauty.
“No.” She looked up at him, still smiling, and her aura lightened to more of a yellow. He’d managed to relax her a little. “I’m happy to have you here with me. Because if you weren’t here, I’d have to do all this by myself. And you know how misery loves company.”
He nodded. “I do.”
Something must’ve occurred to her, because her brown eyes looked pained and her smile fell away. “Unless you’re saying you don’t want to do this. If you want out, that’s fine with me. I was just joking about misery loving company. I don’t want you to be miserable.”
“No, I’m not miserable,” Tove said quickly, nearly cutting her off. “And I don’t want out. There’s plenty of worse things I can do than marry you.”
Like being banished from the kingdom and getting locked up for being crazy. That would be far worse. But he didn’t say that. Instead he just smiled, and she looked relieved.
He took a long drink of his wine and settled back in his chair.