Someone put a crystal glass of wine into my hand, and I threw it back, wishing it were spirits. I saw Akyran surrounded by menfolk, lifting a gilded flask to his lips, and replying to something someone said with a laugh. His eyes met mine and he smiled, but it did not have the brilliance behind it that his smiles normally held.
Leamoira caught my face between her hands and kissed both my cheeks enthusiastically. "A long time coming," she declared. "We have been expecting an announcement now for... oh, at least fifty years."
"Was he coerced into this?" I asked her under my breath.
She hesitated for just a moment. "Not into asking you to marry him," she replied carefully. Fae do not lie. We omit, avoid, and mislead. Leamoira was omitting something, but the relief was overwhelming. Not into asking me to marry him.
There is no one I would marry, if not you, he had said. It was not a lie. But there was a lot unsaid within that statement.