Page 129 of The Prince's Fealty

“No, Daddy!”

He twisted her so that she was horizontal the other way.

“This way?”

Many of the children in the crowd were laughing wildly and yelling, “No!” along with Shara.

Tor frowned and twisted her this way and that as the children shrieked out suggestions. Then his face lit up.

“I’ve got it!”

He moved her firmly so that she was upside down. She was giggling uproariously.

“Like this!” he shouted triumphantly, to be drowned out by a chorus of negation from the children.

Finally, Cala marched up to the front of the room.

“Uncle Tor, you’re doing it all wrong!”

“Am I?” he asked her. “Are you sure?”

Very seriously, she pointed to the top of Shara’s head. “This is the top.” Then she went up on her tiptoes and pointed at Shara’s feet. “This is the bottom.”

“Oooh,” he let out an exaggerated sound of understanding. “Like this?”

And he finally turned a red-faced, giddy-looking Shara the right way up.

All the children cheered and applauded, the rest of the gathering roared their approval, and Tor slipped out of the way as a small queue of Torpelians formed to present their children to the crowd of onlookers.

In Tond, under Pel’s father’s rule, naming ceremonies had been for royal babies, and they had been more about showing off the succession than genuine happiness.

What he and Tor had built was exactly the sort of community Pel had always wanted. When Tor got back to his side, Pel leaned in and kissed him.

“I love you.”

Tor grinned the smile he had just for Pel. “I love you, too.”

Once everyone who wanted to do so had shown off their children, it was time for the party to start. Everyone started to mix and mingle, and the children promptly ran off to cause mischief, as per normal.

Tor nudged Pel urgently in the side, and it took him a moment to follow his frantic eyerolls to realize that he was pointing out where Parex and Hern were staring at one another—and then carefullynotstaring at one another. Tor and Pel grinned at one another and then tried not to stare so much they attracted attention.

(Parex had Manifested only a few months ago—Tor and Pel had gone to Lotar for the Presentation—while Terila’s brother hadn’t developed his magic yet.)

They were only fifteen, so this moment of connection wasn’t likely to lead to a lifelong bond. But it was still adorable to see those sidelong glances, bashful expressions, and blushes. Hopefully, by the end of the night, they’d get up the nerve to talk to one another. They might even end up with a solid friendship.

“Let’s dance!” Tor said, pulling Pel into his arms. “I promise not to stare moodily at you the whole time.”

Pel melted into his arms, grinning. This was an oft-voiced promise thanks to their first dance together following the archery competition. Every dance since then had been so much better, but Tor liked to check frequently, just in case.

Pel had gotten a lot better at dancing as a result, and he had to admit that he enjoyed very much every time the dance brought him and Tor back together and Tor clasped Pel to him. He always looked fabulous when he was grinning and a little bit sweaty, after all.

As they swept past, Pel saw that Parex and Hern had made it a few steps closer to one another, but it didn’t look like they’d actually spoken yet.

“I could go talk to them,” Tor suggested.

Pel gave him a stern glare. “Leave them alone.”

“I wouldn’t meddle,” Tor said, with a smile Pel absolutely did not trust. “Much.”