Chapter 5 : First Looks

Poppy’s POV

“Now what have I told you about playing in amberthorn bushes?” I chastised the child at my station, extracting another embedded thorn from her little arm.

She looked up at me and winced, tears in her eyes. Poor little thing. “I’m sorry, Princess Poppy.”

My heart squeezed and I slathered a numbing salve over her arm. “Don’t apologize to me. I just hate to see you hurting yourself. What did you need the amberthorn petals for, Elewyn?”

“My mama is sick again. I wanted to help her feel better,” the little girl murmured dejectedly. “But I couldn’t get any.”

I wiped my hands on my apron and bent down to her level, whispering, “We have some in the cabinet. Sit tight.”

The little girl’s eyes glittered as I gathered some medicine from the cabinet, bringing over a small vial for her to take home with her.

I placed it into her little hands, hiding it from prying eyes, and said, “Now, I don’t want to see you digging in those bushes again. They bite back. If your mama gets sick again, tell her to come to see me.”

She beamed at me and hopped off the table. “Oh! Thank you! Thank you!” Then she darted out the doors, running as fast as her short legs could.

A warm sensation filled my chest as one of the physicians squeezed my shoulder encouragingly. I offered the other woman a smile and continued to see the next patient.

I didn’t have to work at the clinic. I liked to give back and put in the hard work to listen to their needs.

So between my studies, I helped at the clinic. Reading to sick children, stitching minor wounds, and getting my hands dirty as I cared first-hand for soldiers back from the war. Just to see so many people coming home after so long made this engagement worth it.

And then sometimes I’d work under the gladiatorial spars to stitch up fighters. The fighters loved that, taking turns to flirt with me while being overlooked by my guards. One of the frequent fighters, Patrick, tried to court me once.

That didn’t end well. And now whenever I worked there I had to be on the lookout for him, constantly spreading false rumors about me. If I were younger, softer, it would bother me. But what was the point?

If I let meager words strike me, what kind of ruler could I be? No, I had to be hard as nails while simultaneously being pious and gentle to those that mattered. I would open the palace kitchens every week to feed those less fortunate, something I had to really pull my father’s ear for.

Thankfully, I could be quite persuasive. I just told him that a fed common class is a loyal common class. Which is true, but that wasn’t why I did it.

Truth is, I just loved my kingdom and wanted to share it the best way I could. The people saw me and that meant they could relate to me. That personableness was something most royals lacked. Even my parents. Even if I enjoyed it, my father, on the other hand, hated my extracurriculars. He has complained to me numerous times about how I shouldn’t be out of the palace walls. But he should know by now that his objects wouldn’t stop me from doing something I wanted.

It was his fault I became so independent. I was my father’s daughter.

The past week had gone by relatively quickly. I would have forgotten about the engagement altogether if Dot hadn’t been counting down the days for me. Or if my mother hadn’t barged into my quarters every other morning to ask me what color to make the tapestries.

I didn’t care about the tapestries.

I didn’t care about the flower arrangements or the food.

I didn’t even care about Eirikur.

But it appears that everyone else did. In fact, even word had gotten to the clinic about my engagement, and the children and the physicians have made it their job to tease me about it.

“Do you love him? Do you love the Prince of Darkness?” the kids would ask me.

To which I would always reply, “Perhaps one day, but I need to meet him first.”

My guards would even ask me about it. Big burly Alder Elves asked me if I’d found a dress yet while they accompanied me outside the palace.

Ridiculous.

Everyone else was more invested in my wedding than I was.

Well, except for my father who proceeded to sulk all the time. Complaining behind closed doors about his baby girl getting married to someone who wasn’t good enough for her. I had to fight the roll of my eyes. We hadn’t even met Eirikur yet. He was being dramatic.

I got out of my head long enough to stitch up a gnarly kitchen accident when Dot came barging into the clinic. “Poppy!”

I snipped the remaining thread and handed my patient a small jar of healing salve before sending him on his way. My apron was dotted with blood, but it was an average day’s work. Blood didn’t bother me.

Over my shoulder, Dotty was flushed, soft round cheeks painted red across her peachy skin tone. “Yes?” I asked. “I’m in the middle of something.” I wiped my hands off on my apron, cleaning my station to prepare for the next injury.

My guards were whispering among themselves, eyes widening as they realized something. I arched an eyebrow, bewildered as to why they all suddenly seemed so hurried.

“He’s here!” Dot gasped, doubling over and fanning herself.

“What?” I asked before glancing at the back wall, wondering what time it was. Certainly, the Myrkrsons hadn’t arrived so early.

“They’re here requesting an audience with you. You’re late,” Dot said between breaths. “We need to get you dressed and bathed and–”

“Dot,” I interrupted before she could burst a blood vessel. “Calm down. I’m coming, let’s go.” I turned to the lead physician I’d been working beside all morning. “I’m sorry, Beatrice, I know I promised I’d be here all day…”

“Go, child,” she urged, waving a hand at me. “Don’t worry about us.”

I nodded, giving her a polite curtsey as Dot nearly pulled my arm out when she dragged me out of the clinic. My three guards trailed behind us, always on the lookout for danger.

The closer I got to the banquet hall, the more excitement welled in my belly. This was really happening.

My fingertips started to feel tingly and my stomach fluttered. My mouth became unusually dry, a strange jumpiness that I’d never experienced before as Dot led me directly to my chambers to change out of my bloodstained robe and apron.

“There’s no time to bathe, so let’s just get you changed,” Dot declared, turning over to the other handmaidens. “Go, gather the powders and perfumes! Now!”

I shook my hands. “No. That’s not necessary. I’m not going to doll myself up for this.” My voice trembled as I spoke too fast.

Why were my hands trembling?

What was happening to me?

Why did I feel so flustered?

“Of course you’ll get dolled up. You’re meeting your fiance!” Then Dot noticed. “Are you okay, Poppy?”

For the first time since I heard the news, I wanted to flee. “I think…I’m nervous.”

Dot blinked. “You’re never nervous.”

Ever since we were children, I had this uncanny ability to speak clearly in the face of uncertainty. I never lost my sense or control over my body. “I know,” I muttered, feeling hot under the collar. Dot sat me down on the chaise lounge while my knees wobbled. “Pour the princess some water,” she barked at a servant who instantly brought me a glass full.

I took little sips, the water scratching down my throat when it should have been soothing it. What a peculiar sensation. “Why is my heart beating so fast?” I asked, mainly to myself, placing a hand over my chest to offset the heaviness settling there.

Was I panicking? Is this what a panic attack felt like?

Dot placed her hands over my shoulders, pulling my gaze up to meet her familiar warm eyes. “You’re going to be okay, Poppy. You’re just having a delayed reaction.”

I swallowed thickly. “I don’t understand why I’m having a reaction at all. This is ridiculous.”

“You’re so serious.” She sighed. “You’re allowed to have a working heart, you know.”

I frowned, disliking how my body was acting. I hated feeling out of control like this. “Well, I can’t meet the Myrkrsons like this, now can I?” I huffed. “Call it off. Say I’m not feeling well.”

Dotty scoffed suddenly as all the other handmaidens proceeded to stare at her. My eyes flashed over to her. “I can’t call it off because you have a case of the butterflies.”

My chest rose and fell rapidly with every slam of my heart against my ribs. I wanted to call it off. Run back to the clinic where everything was familiar and I knew all the variables. But she had a point. I was being nonsensical.

“Breathe, Poppy. Just breathe,” Dot urged as she took a deep breath, modeling it for me like I often did for her when she was overwhelmed.

I followed her example, taking a few heavy breaths. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.”

My friend gave me a wide smile as she looked back at my handmaidens, holding my garments and powders and all sorts of frilly things I was expected to wear for royal guests. I finished my glass of water and stood up.

My knees were still shaky, but I’ve never let other appearances get to me like this. I wasn’t going to start now. Fiance or not.

My heart slammed against my ribs as other questions fizzled up from the recesses of my mind.

What if Eirikur was handsome? Or charming? Would I lose all my sense the second he said my name?

It’s never happened before, but I’ve never felt this nervous before either.

I knew what was riding on this. By the Gods, I really hoped I didn’t make a fool out of myself.

Dryness coated my tongue again as my handmaidens stripped me of my overgarments and pulled an extravagant green robe over my head, decorated my wrists in gold bangles, and dangled jeweled earrings from my earlobes.

My hair was braided with cuffs and looped around my head.

They cleaned the dots of blood from my hands and my face, powdering me to rid myself of the shine from a hard day’s work.

When they were done, I was led to the banquet hall where the Myrkrsons were gathered, likely having an audience with my parents while they waited for me. I curled my hands into fists to quell my shakes, refusing to give in to the nerves.

The fate of the kingdom rests on this engagement. I wasn’t going to ruin it.

I noticed a few Myrkr Elves standing outside the banquet hall, likely servants by their attire and the way they were conversing with Alder guards. But there was one man standing outside with them, chatting comfortably.

Cropped dark hair, unlike the other Myrkr Elves who had theirs long and tied into incredibly detailed braids. His eyes seemed to shift between different colors. Purple to yellow to purple again.

I’d never seen elves like them before. Cool-toned skin on the spectrum between silver and lilac. Sharp features. Stark eyes. I suddenly found myself more eager to see Eirikur and wonder where he fell.

Dot stiffened beside me and I glanced next to me to see her cheeks turn various shades of pink. He carried a thick broadsword that seemed larger than his body should be able to carry, but he didn’t seem to have any difficulty as he stepped to the side, gesturing to the other guards to open the door for us.

I could feel his eyes analyzing me as if he were sizing me up. My handmaidens stood in front of me, my guards behind me as the double doors were opened, revealing six Myrkr Elves in expensive robes. I’m going to assume the king, the queen, and their four sons.

But which one was Eirikur?

My father was sitting at the crown of the table as if he was in a very irritating conversation. He looked over at me and stood up. The other family followed his example. My father looked relieved I had appeared.

“I apologize for the delay,” I offered to the King and Queen of Myrkr, curtseying in respect.

The woman, very lithe and slender with silvery blonde hair gave me a pleasant nod. “No need for the apology,” she started with a very thick Northern accent. “We arrived earlier than expected.”

“This is my daughter, Penelope,” my father said, gesturing to me while introducing the Myrkr King and Queen as Thurston and Yrsa.

I looked across the table at all four of their sons. Some were brawny and dark-haired like their father. Some were on the leaner side with violet eyes like their mother. All of them were giving me their attention. Grins of white teeth as they looked down the table at the only elf still sitting, eating a round green berry with disinterest written clearly on his face. He wasn’t even looking at me. Not showing the barest sense of decency that the rest of his family did.

That was Eirikur.

I knew it in my bones.

He had incredibly sharp features, and slender but defined strength in his frame. He had silvery blond hair shaved down one side, tied up in knots and braids that seemed too complex for his large hands. His ears were pierced multiple times and adorned with cuffs, studs, and a chain that dangled across them.

His skin looked like storm clouds personified. Gray with a slight lavender hue as if he could conjure up rainfall.

One of his brothers elbowed him hard in the ribs and he made this disgruntled noise and rolled his attention over to me. Instantly, his eyes struck me. The same color as saffron tea, nearly glowing with how starkly yellow they seemed against his complexion.

And dear Gods, I knew I was in trouble when my hands started to tremble again as I took a seat next to my father and Eirikur’s eyes followed me, analyzing me just like the elf outside the room did.

My heart fluttered as nerves bombarded me and I forced myself to maintain eye contact despite how badly I wanted to curl in on myself and hide.