The Matchmakers

SIX

"HOW WAS THE MATCHMAKING office?" Della asked during lunch, to Sophie's chagrin.

"It was awesome!" Keefe answered, piling his plate high with every food available. "I got to talk about myself for an hour, and the poor guy had to listen. He even took notes! It's his job!"

They all laughed, but Keefe probably wasn't joking.

"I loved it," Biana answered. "I'm so excited to get my scroll I can't wait! I mean, a week seems like such a long time!"

"One week?" Della asked incredulously. "I had to wait six months before I got mine!"

"Yeah, but that was over five centuries ago," Biana reminded her. "There were a lot less possible matches back in your day."

Sophie still wasn't used to how old the people around her actually were. Grady and Edaline, Alden and Della, and even Tiergan had centuries, if not millennium. Bronte probably had ages, epochs, eras, eons; she actually had no idea. But he'd once told her he'd been alive before the dark ages. And judging by the fact the Grady had been alive for at least 700 years—based on the sheer quantity of his Bramble jersey collection—and still wasn't an Ancient, he must at least have a couple ages. Maybe an epoch. She'd be very surprised if he'd lived through an era, but it wasn't impossible. His ears were pretty pointy.

"Oh, it's been much longer than that, dear," Della laughed lightly. In the human world Sophie would have been surprised if one of her friends didn't know their parents' age. But in the Lost Cities, they didn't pay attention to age since everything but their ears stopped aging at around 25. As proved by the Bronte-may-have-ages-or-eras-or-maybe-even-an-epoch argument.

"Well still, I couldn't imagine waiting six whole months! I just want to know right now!"

"I imagine that we all could guess who's going to be on your scroll," Della said. Her significant glance was lost on Keefe, who had his head down and was shoveling food into his mouth at a record pace.

"I hope," Biana said in a dreamy voice, immediately lost to a daydream.

"And how about you, Sophie?" Della asked. "Are you excited to get your scroll?"

No. No. No. "Ummm, yeah," she forced herself to answer, for Biana's sake. Heads popped up around the table.

"Whaaaa?" Keefe asked, half chewed food falling out of his mouth.

"Eeeew," she winced, looking away. "Keefe, that's disgusting."

"Wha? Oou don wanna ee mah foo?" he asked, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he purposefully made his eating habits messier.

"Yuck. No. Close your mouth."

He shrugged and resumed chewing, this time with his mouth closed.

"Umm, I thought you didn't even want to apply for a scroll," Fitz asked tentatively.

"I didn't," she answered honestly, shooting an apology glance at Biana, who thankfully still wasn't paying attention. "But I think it'll be interesting who the Matchmakers pair me up with. Not that it'll have any impact on who I actually choose," she added hastily.

"I'm glad that you're so confident, Sophie," Della answered. "The Matchmaking Scrolls are an archaic tradition. But I'm not sure you understand how seriously these scrolls are taken in our society."

"I know about how Kelser and Juline were considered bad matches, and Jolie and Brant. And I know how hard it was for them. But at the same time, I've been through so much real danger in my life that I don't care what others think of me at this point. Well, everyone except for my friends and family. I mean, I do care about being a good person. But I'm not going to let the fear of being a social pariah keep me from what I love, whether it's my family, my friends, or my potential husband. It's like that Dr. Seuss quote. 'Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind.' Not that you guys know who that is, but I still think it applies to this situation."