If the members of the court were to choose their king, all the blushing not-quite-maidens of would be for Cefwyn, and their staid, Guelen Quinalt fathers would support Efanor, as would the Patriarch. No maid throws flowers to Efanor, nor creeps into his chamber.
He can imagine, in fevered, sinful moments, why Cefwyn succumbs so readily, but he cannot picture himself doing such things. Better to trust in the gods for ultimate happiness than in an earl's pretty daughter; they do not stray, and will not age. Efanor trusts what he knows of the gods.
Until he meets the Sihhë.
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