I wonder if he’s meeting with Juliana again. Letting her touch him at every opportunity. Making her laugh. Jealousy makes my coffee settle uneasily in my stomach.
Pretha chuckles. “You are so transparent it’s laughable.”
“What?”
“You’re jealous.”
“Am not. Just curious where he might be.”
She doesn’t bother to hide her grin. “Well, you should know that this old friend is coming up on his thousandth year and rarely leaves his cottage by the river, so I don’t think you need to worry about his friend doing anything that would make Finn stop pining for you.”
“He doesn’t pine for me.”
She snorts. “Whatever you say.”
But he doesn’t, does he? There’s physical attraction on both sides for sure, and last night he made it clear that he’s open to acting on that attraction. But that’s where this ends. Anything beyond that would be too complicated. “I take it this celebration begins in the morning,” I say, if only to change the subject. “That’s why you’re dragging me out of bed so early?”
She chuckles and tosses the dress on the bed. “It’s all day. We’ll begin with the traditional trek up Mount Rowan, which will take most of the morning.”
I frown at the dress. “Hiking all morning, and I’m supposed to wear that? ”
She smooths the bodice and smirks at me. “You’re here as Finn’s betrothed. Regardless of what happens to the Throne of Shadows, this makes you their future queen in their eyes. They’ll expect to see you dressed accordingly.”
Grumbling, I refill my coffee cup. “I think you know me well enough to believe me when I say I can’t even pretend to be a lady.”
“Just be yourself. The only pretending you need to do is about your relationship with Finn— though I don’t expect that will be much of a stretch.”
I freeze, my coffee cup halfway to my mouth. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Pretha snorts, then cocks her head to the side. “You think none of us notice the way you look at each other?”
“Pretha, don’t.”
She sighs and rolls her eyes. “Once we reach the crest of the mountain, we’ll settle in at the campsite, then travel to the sacred spring farther north.”
“Aren’t we in a hurry to get to the priestess? I thought we were going to her temple.”
“That was the plan, but we won’t be able to see her until tomorrow. Word arrived this morning that in light of the attack on the capital, she’s not seeing anyone who hasn’t made an offering to Lugh.”
I stiffen, thinking of the human “tributes” the Unseelie took through the years of the curse. “What kind of offering?”
“Stop looking at me like I’m going to make you tear out a puppy’s heart. We offer Lugh grains and corn. Nothing your delicate sensibilities can’t handle.”
“I’m not delicate.”
She chuckles. “Regardless, we’ll return to the celebration before nightfall.”
“And what happens tonight?” I ask.
“There will be a bonfire with dancing, drinking, matchmaking ceremonies, and general merriment.”
“You love this,” I say, studying her. Even if she weren’t grinning, her sparkling eyes would give her away.
She shrugs. “I have a lot of good memories from this time of year. My husband was raised out here, and Lunastal was one of his favorite celebrations.” She looks lost in her memories. “He was strong and athletic, and he liked to show off during the competitions, but he also liked . . .” She swallows and lifts her gaze to meet mine. “He loved the community, the people. He loved knowing he’d always have a home here. There’s a certain loyalty among these people that you don’t find at the capital, and Vexius appreciated that.”
“Is this where Finn met Isabel?” I ask, remembering what Finn said in the stables last night about being distracted by his life here when Mordeus stole the rule of the Unseelie Court.
Pretha nods. “Yes. And I imagine that’s why returning is so bittersweet for him.”
“How did they meet?” I ask. “She was a human, right? Was she a servant?”
“You are full of questions this morning. Let’s get you dressed.” She comes around the bed and unzips the red dress. She waits for me to strip out of my sleeping gown before helping me step into it.
“Yes, Isabel was human,” she says, zipping me up. “Well, a changeling, technically.”