Anwen

Kieran and I walk through the castle side-by-side, talking about the wedding. There’s nothing else to talk about anymore. I swear to the Goddess, I heard a couple of maids chattering about it when I walked by the other day.

“Remember, there are still two weeks left,” he says. “This likely isn’t a full list.”

“But I’d still rather know.” I run a hand through my hair. “I want to know who thinks they can agree to attend a royal wedding with less than three weeks’ notice, for one.”

Kieran chuckles. “Fair. So, I’ve heard back from—”

He rattles off a dozen kingdoms. I recognize most of the names...