“Relax, witchling,” I say, taking her out of her misery. “I’m only teasing. But when you’re ready to ask the question, I know what my answer will be.” I place a quick kiss on her temple, and her blush deepens.

“It’s made of the same marble that the floor of the throne room and the foyer of the Eless estate is made from. It also covers the floor of the royal chambers in the palace, where my parents—their suite. The marble is harvested from the caves where the hot springs are and there are many legends about its magical properties. It’s not as significant as your necklace, but I thought it could give you a piece of Thayarian history and lore wherever you go.” Her eyes are bright with meaning, and I know this is her way of showing me she reciprocates my feelings, even if she’s still not ready to say it aloud. I wiggle my fingers on the hand where the ring is placed at her.

“I’ll never take it off.” She smiles again, this time no hint of a blush or lowered eyes in sight, just pure joy that lights up her face. She takes my arm after I’m loaded down with bags again, and together we walk next to Silene and Fionn, browsing shops and talking to one another. The people notice Laurel, bowing or curtseying as she passes by. I can tell it makes her uncomfortable to be so revered by her people, but I try to encourage her to take it in stride, reminding her that their reaction is a form of excitement at seeing their Queen.

Fionn finds a weapons maker that empties his pockets, and between his weapons and the additional purchases Silene has made, Laurel has to aerstep all our bags and weapons back to the palace because we can no longer carry them all. Once we’re relieved of the burden of our purchases, the four of us make our way to the dance floor just as the sun sets. The children have all been sent home, and the atmosphere of the festival takes a noticeable turn. In the shadows of twilight, revelers abandon the propriety of the day, drinking copious amounts of ale and engaging in more sensual activities on the dance floor.

“How late does this thing go?” I ask Laurel, who grins.

“Till sunrise tomorrow morning,” she explains, and Silene cheers while Fionn groans. “We don’t have to stay all night. We can leave whenever we want to.”