The Matchmakers

FIFTEEN

"SO HOW WAS YOUR DAY?" Biana asked nonchalantly, lounging on Sophie's bed while the bed's owner studied her Elvin History textbook on the plush carpet. Sophie just made a noncommittal sound and kept her eyes on her reading, not interested enough to take the bait, especially once Biana added, "I noticed Fitz disappeared for a while this morning. I wonder what he was doing."

Biana didn't care how her day had gone, she was digging for information, the little sneak! Specifically, the dirty details of what Sophie and Fitz had been doing together on their secret date.

Sophie rolled her eyes, knowing exactly what Biana was imagining: most likely her brother and Sophie laughing and kissing in some sunny field of flowers. Or maybe the two of them taking a long romantic walk on the Cliffside pastures. Perhaps even sneaking out to Atlantis where Fitz had taken Sophie to lunch and then shopped with her all afternoon.

Sophie shook her head to dispel the images. Now who was the one letting her imagination run wild? Sophie was just as guilty as Biana of imagining some romantic, lovely date. But their imaginations weren't even close to reality. Where they'd been had no flowers, no smiles, no laughter. It had been dark and serious; after all, they'd been on trial.

The Tribunal...well, it hadn't gone exactly how Sophie had expected. First of all—before it even started—Sophie had to tell Grady and Edaline that she liked Fitz.

It was easily the most humiliating moment of her life, because at first they didn't understand. She'd been forced—blushing and stammering—to repeat herself, explaining that while yes, she liked Fitz, she also liked liked Fitz. Then, between Grady's overprotective, fatherly interrogation and Edaline's girlish, gleeful squeals, she'd been lucky to escape the living room alive. Thank goodness she'd had the common sense to keep Fitz away when she confessed, although she was wondering how long that would last.

She could already imagine it: everything would start off normal, but the night would quickly descend into madness once Grady started grilling Fitz about curfews and intentions.

Yikes.

Luckily, her adoptive parents didn't put up too much of an unreasonable fuss at the Tribunal. Neither did Alden or Della. They argued against the forced engagement, brought up reasonable points and had a legitimate case, but in the end there really wasn't anything they could do: the Council's minds were made up. And when the Council wanted something, they got it.

So for better or for worse, Sophie and Fitz were engaged--and it was to be announced at the end of the month, during their Devoir Gala.

Yes, there was going to be a party. When Sophie learned that, she wanted to beat her head against the table. Hard. Repeatedly. Too bad she couldn't, because apparently it was only up to her and Edaline to plan it. Before Biana had saved her, it had been nonstop party talk since they'd gotten back from Luminaria. It had gone something like this:

"Would you rather have mallowmelt or custard bursts for dessert?" Edaline would ask from across the kitchen table.

"Mmmhmmm," Sophie would answer noncommittally from the couch in the living room, without looking up from her book. It was a compelling memoir, written by an elf raised by a tribe of gnomes in the Neutral Territories—nothing related to party-planning at all.

Plus, she would rather have done just about anything than think about the inevitable party.

"I agree," Edaline would say with a nod as she marked something down in her notebook--as if Sophie's vague noise had been a concrete answer instead of an onomatopoeia. "We should have both. And how about your dress? I was thinking red."

"Uh-huh."

"But purple would be gorgeous too. What do you think about a nice lavender?"

"Hmmm."