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“… and then he kissed my hand and made a weird joke about arranging a nighttime meeting,” Rhen finished. She sighed and rubbed her forehead with a hand. “It’s not that he doesn’t back off when I tell him to, but he’s so persistent.”
Elini raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that not taking your no?”
Rhen grimaced at the table. John said, “This would be so much easier if you were married. At least then he’d get off your ass.”
Rhen raised an eyebrow at that. “I am married.”
The silence settled. John’s mouth opened and closed, fish-like in his confusion. It was Elini who cleared her throat and said in a voice pitched just a little too high, “Rhen, darling, you’re what?”
“Married,” Rhen repeated as if observing the weather. She looked up from her book and surveyed each of them in turn, eyebrows furrowed. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Lars,” Boyle called without looking away from her, “did you know Rhen was married?”
“Huh? Oh. Yeah,” Lars said, leaning out from behind the bookcase. A pause. Lars said tentatively, “Did you all… not?”
“No!?” Boyle answered.
Lars stepped out towards their table, textbook tucked under his arm, and shot Rhen a look as he settled in next to her. “This isn’t a bit, is it?”
“No,” Rhen said, phrasing it like a question nonetheless. “Why would I—”
“Stop, stop, who gives a fuck,” John said, shooting to his feet. His hands braced his body as he leaned over the table. “Who in the sweet hells are you married to?”
“This has to be a bit,” Lars said.
“What, you know?” Boyle said accusingly.
“Yes! Obviously!”
“Why?” Elini said. As an afterthought, she added, “And why don’t we?”
“It’s not—I didn’t hide it or anything,” Rhen said, sinking into her chair at Boyle’s glare. “Okay so maybe I don’t wear the ring on my finger but I don’t see how that’s relevant to—”
“You have a ring?” John shouted. Instantly someone shushed them from two rows down; he had the grace to look chagrined even as he demanded in a whisper, “Let me see it.”
Rhen fished out a chain from under her shirt as Elini said, “Does Dameon know you’re married?”
“Of course he does,” Rhen says, cupping her hand under a smooth gold ring to show them. Slim, understated. The chain pools in bright silver in her palm. “Or, um. I… thought he did.”
“The Queen of Thais, everyone,” Boyle said with a sweep of his arm. Rhen swatted at his shoulder as he intoned, “She’s married, and she told absolutely fucking nobody.”
“To who?” John said again. “Or is it to whom? Goddess above, who gives a fuck. Answer the damned question, Your Majesty-ness.”
“I—you asked to see the ring!” Rhen said. She tucked it back under her shirt at the mention. “I’m sorry, I really thought you all knew!”
“Lars,” John began.
“This is a bit! It has to be!” Lars said, holding up his left hand. He wore plenty of rings, but the plainest—a slim, gold band—rested on his ring finger. John made a sound akin to a beached whale as he demanded, “Did none of you fucking know? Am I going insane?”
Five minutes later, kicked from the library for their rowdiness, John shook Rhen vigorously by the shoulders and shouted, “You’re married to a douchebag?!”
“Dude, shut up,” Boyle said, “the fucking door hasn’t even closed yet, do you want to get us banned—”
“Him?” John said in a noticeably quieter voice, shaking Rhen again. He pointed to Lars. “Tenobor? Him? You could’ve had anyone in the world and you picked this asshole?”
“Thanks,” Lars said with a roll of his eyes.
“No, I agree,” Elini said. “Honestly, Rhen, the princess of Sedona is here and distressingly single, as I understand it.”
Rhen shoved John off of her, making a show of dusting herself off before she straightened up and said primly, “Well, for one thing, I don’t think Lars is a douchebag.”
“High praise,” Boyle said solemnly. He ducked away from Lars’ half-hearted punch.
“And for another, Sedona has the most insufferable champion imaginable, so there’s not a chance that I’ll tie myself to that family line.”
“You should let me fireball him,” Lars said.
“There’s the asshole part,” Rhen said.
“That you married,” John pointed out. “Goddess, you’re both freshies, aren’t you? You’re babies. Babies aren’t supposed to be married.”
“I was married that young,” Elini pointed out.
“Well, yes, but should you have been?”
Elini considered this. She and her husband had never once disrespected the boundaries of their open marriage. “I don’t see why not, but for others it might be—”
“There, see? Point proven.”
“How long have you two been together, anyway?” Boyle asked. “I mean, he’s got a point. You’re both eighteen, right?”
“Yeah,” Lars said. “I think it’s been a year and a half?”
“What!”
“Goddess, would you shut up?” Lars said, tracing a glyph in the air. John flailed his hands as the Silence spell settled, then flipped Lars off. “There we go. Year and five months, if memory serves.”
“Yep,” Rhen said. “Our anniversary was during midterms. So romantic.”
“Was it arranged?” Elini wanted to know. “It’s rare for minors to become engaged, is it not? Don’t you need parental permission at that point?”
“Yes, and kind of?” Rhen said. John silently and wildly gestured in the background, expression almost frenzied. “It wasn’t arranged at all, I mean, but I was close to losing my mind with all the ‘gentle’ reminders to find a suitable spouse from the lord regent. Lars is a close friend, one of the Empire’s greatest sorcerers—”
“The greatest sorcerer alive, thank you,” Lars said snidely. “I believe the terminology used was ‘prodigy’—”
“—and a noble, shockingly enough,” Rhen continued as if he hadn’t spoken. Boyle barked out a laugh. “I’ll have to share him with the Empire’s magic academy, but otherwise, it worked out very well. My parents are happy enough, and his mother isn’t stupid enough to try to refuse.” Lars nodded in agreement.
“Okay, but do you actually like him?” Elini said. “Because you’re making this sound like a marriage of convenience more than anything else.”
“Is it so wrong if it is?” Rhen said. Elini began shaking her head, then stopped when Rhen laughed and looped her arm through Lars’s. “Yes, I like him. I like him a lot, as it turns out.”
Boyle rounded on Lars. “And you?”
“Have you seen me agree to anything I dislike?” Lars said, exchanging a wry look with Rhen.
“There was that one time they made your latte wrong and—”
“Yes, I love her, Goddess above,” Lars said, cutting Boyle off and ignoring his consequent cooing. John flapped his arms frantically. “It’s not complicated. It was convenient and we talked at length about pros and cons before she actually proposed. We’re young but we’re not entirely stupid.”
“You proposed?” Elini said, hand flying to her mouth. Rhen nodded, flushing. “That’s adorable. But surely you could have afforded a more stylish ring?”
Whatever Lars might have snapped in response was interrupted by John—freshly freed from the Silence spell—shouting, “Why weren’t we invited to the goddamn wedding?!”
“The Queen of Thais, everyone,” Boyle said, sweeping an arm to gesture to Rhen. “Gets married and forgets to send invitations.”
“That’s not what happened,” Rhen said into her hands, face flushed scarlet. “My advisers made it very clear that I should only invite politically-advantageous guests and having a pirate and a former villain and—”
“I don’t see why I couldn’t come,” Elini interrupted.
“You’d said months earlier you’d be traveling around the time of the wedding, so I think you just didn’t get the invitation in time. Your husband sent a declined RSVP for you.”
Elini chewed on her lip and said, “Which one?”
“I don’t remember,” Rhen said. “Sorry.”
“Suppose I’ll scold them all, then.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t invite us,” John said. “We’re your friends! Your best friends, even! You said it yourself!”
“When she was drunk on two Long Islands, yeah,” Lars said.
“Doesn’t matter! It’s—”
“You’re invited to the reception,” Rhen interrupted, “but it’s not scheduled for another three years so it’s gonna be a while.”
“Fuck!” John said to no one.
“Is it going to be a big fancy party in Thais?” Boyle said. Rhen nodded. “Can’t we have one now? A smaller one?”
“Are you offering to plan it?” Lars said.
“Fuck no. But I think a lot of people here would want to go.”
“I agree,” Elini said. “Let me do it. I have experience corralling several unruly people at once.”
“Hey,” John said.
“We didn’t even agree to it,” Lars began.
“I would love that,” Rhen said before he could finish. Lars shut his mouth and gave her a look that she ignored. “I know you’re all graduating soon. It’d be nice to have a little party before you head off.”
“Leave it to us,” Elini said with a peaceable nod. “All you and Lars have to do is attend.”
“Oh, shit, we get to help?” John said. “Can we do keg stands?”
“No.”
“Why the hell not?”
“I think we should just do whatever Elini says,” Boyle said. He raised both hands in a pacifying gesture when John glared at him. “She remembers things like Ingrid’s favorite coffee order and stuff. Do you even know Marge’s allergies?”
John inhaled, exhaled, and said, “No.”
“Okay, well, now that that’s all settled, I think it’s time for us to part ways,” Lars said, hooking his arm through Rhen’s and beginning to drag her away. “Have fun, don’t destroy anything, et cetera.”
“Speak for yourself,” Boyle said, and with that resounding vote of confidence they scattered.
“Here, Dameon,” Elini said later, handing him a sealed envelope. “It’s from Rhen.”
Dameon didn’t even wait for her to leave before tearing it open and pulling out the card. His eyebrows knitted together as he first saw the word Reception spelled out in celebratory curling letters. His expression twisted further when he flipped it over and read the names.
“Ah,” he said after a while. “I suppose that’s one way of making her intent clear.”
“You can’t be this dense,” Elini said as if she hadn’t also been blindsided about the whole thing. Whatever the case, she patted his shoulder and said, “She’d be happy if you could attend.”
“Right,” Dameon said, already turning away. “Thanks.”
“See you there!” Elini called after him, and then turned to meet Rhen’s eyes from where she hid behind a bush and gave her a thumbs up.
“You know,” Lars said when he and Rhen peeked into the hall, “when Elini said to dress nice, I didn’t think she meant this.”
Said hall was full of their friends, of course, but also everything between everyday clothes (Myst) and lavish costumes (Te’ijal). Lydia could barely squeeze between tables with the sheer volume of her dress; Galahad was wearing an entire suit of armor save for the helmet. Edward looked uncomfortable in his prince’s outfit, and then Iya and Ean were laughing with champagne and sporting traditional elven finery.
“Emma didn’t even change out of her work clothes,” Rhen said. She blew out a sigh. “I hope Elini wasn’t too forceful.”
“Elini not being forceful,” Lars said. “Right.” Rhen shook her head at him, and he took her hand when Elini glanced over and made a slight hand gesture at them. “Ready?”
“It’s a party, not some political thing back home,” Rhen pointed out, but she was grateful for the contact nonetheless as they stepped out and made their way towards their table.
Their friends, predictably, burst into catcalls and wolf whistles as they sat down, alongside the usual clapping and cheering. John in particular shouted, “Speech!” only to be tackled back into his seat by Mel, and thankfully they were saved by an army of waiters bringing out dinner and musicians beginning to play.
“Rhen, I owe you an apology,” Dameon said later as he stopped by their table. “I didn’t realize—”
“No means no, dipshit,” Lars said. “I didn’t even want to invite you. Rhen insisted.”
“Please let me finish,” Dameon said. Lars yelped when Rhen elbowed him but mutinously fell silent. “I didn’t realize you were betrothed,” Dameon said after waiting to see if Lars would interrupt. “I’m very sorry for being so pushy. It was an extremely ignorant and inappropriate thing for me to do. I hope you can forgive me.”
“I’d be happy to be your friend,” Rhen said with a small smile.
Dameon nodded, though he didn’t smile back. “I’d like that.” He looked over his shoulder. “But I think I’ll head out now. I can tell I’m not welcome.”
Indeed, Elini was glaring at him from where she was ostensibly chatting with Te’ijal. Lars laughed as Rhen said, “I understand. Thank you for coming.”
“Thank you for inviting me,” Dameon said, and he pivoted on his heel and left.
For a few moments, she and Lars sat there, watching their friends eat and drink and laugh. After yet another round of people tapping their glasses with spoons and her kissing Lars as requested, she said at length, “I guess that’s that.”
“Guess so,” Lars said. He plucked two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter and gave one to her to raise. “A toast?”
“To our friends, who always watch out for us,” Rhen said, clinking her glass with his, and she smiled as the party raged on.