Her stomach flipped at the thought of the two of them together, though she did her best to ignore it. She’d explore the idea tomorrow, when she had more time.
Fourteen
She sighed in relief when she saw both men sat at the corner table, with the fire blazing next to them. Perfect. The only thing that would make it better, was if she actually had comfortable clothing to wear. But it was win some, lose some she guessed.
Cyprus’ hand was still warm in hers, and she didn’t want to quite admit how much she loved it. At least not aloud. Though he probably already knew.
“Ah, you’re here,” Drey said, rising from his seat and offering it to her. Finally letting go of Cyprus, she lifted up on tiptoes, and pressed a kiss against his lips. Just a quick one, she didn’t want to detract from what they were doing here. But kissing him hello did seem right.
Damn, she was losing herself to these men. Not even slowly, but definitely surely.
“We need to sort this out,” she said firmly as both Drey and Cyprus pulled up their own chairs. “Do we know what the other treaties say?” she asked Fane, who shook his head.
“Drey said there were five?” She nodded in response to his question. “I’ve only delivered two, and know about the additional one signing away your powers.”
“The one from before I was born?”
“That’s the one. For some reason, that one’s in the public domain.” Fane was almost too business like in his demeanor, and Aledwen wasn’t completely sure she liked it. But then again, this was a serious subject, it was probably right he wasn’t fawning over her. Though looking her in the eye might have been good. She’d have to ask about that later.
“What does it say?”
“Just what we talked about before.”
“So nothing about about why my mother signed away my powers.”
“I’m sorry, Aledwen,” he said softly, his eyes meeting hers for a moment, before flitting away again. There was something else going on here, something about why he wouldn’t look her in the eyes. It was odd to say the least.
“No need to be sorry. I guess we just need to work out reasons why she could want that.” She jumped to her feet and began pacing back and forth in front of the fire. “What could the elvish High Lord have to offer her?” she mused aloud.
“Money?” Drey suggested.
Fane shook his head vigorously. “Elves used to be rich, but not anymore. If I was my- the High Lord, and someone was signing my treaties without questioning, then it’d be money I’d ask for.”
“Is the no money a new thing?” Drey asked, and Fane shook his head again.
Cyprus also rose to his feet, and wandered over to a set of shelves that Aledwen was almost sure contained all the records of her family line back to the very beginning. Saying that, she’d never read any of them, it sounded far too dull and boring for her. But Cyprus appeared to have other ideas, as he pulled one of the books off it’s shelf, and began to leaf through it.
Aledwen left him to it. There must be a reason for what he was up to, and while she was eager to know what he was thinking, she didn’t want to break his train of thought.
“So it’s not money the elves have that my mother wants. What magic are you good at?” She winced even as she finished asking. It was rude to inquire into another paranormal’s powers. But in this case, it needed to be done.
“Not much really. We’re good at fading into the background, but then so do dryads. Only difference is, we can extend that to other objects too.”
“Hmm. Anything else?” After all, what did her mother have to hide? Other than the treaties themselves that was. Though signing a treaty to hide a treaty sounded ridiculous to say the least.
“I guess we’re graceful, and a lot of us have healing magic.” Fane frowned deeply. “I really don’t understand what we have to offer the Spring Fae.”
“No,” Aledwen answered bluntly. There wasn’t time for beating around the bush after all. But he was right. Most Spring Fae already had the ability to heal. They wouldn’t, and shouldn’t, need elvish magic for that. Especially not her mother, who as Queen, had more magic than most.
“I think it is masking,” Cyprus said, causing all three of them to look up sharply. She was surprised, and a little disappointed that he’d spoken in front of the other two, but the apologetic look on his face, and the severity of the situation, convinced her it was necessary.
“What makes you say that?”
“Does this look a lot like you?” Cyprus placed the book he was reading down on the table, and the two other men leaned over alongside Aledwen.
“No.” The woman in the picture had flaming red hair, freckles and green eyes. The latter being the only feature she and Aledwen seemed to share.
“Turn the page,” Cyprus instructed.