“You didn’t need to ask me to look after you. I should have been doing a better job of it all along.”
“I never thanked you for that.”
“You never needed to thank me.”
“Thank you,” I insist on saying anyway.
“You’re welcome.” The smile that graces his lips is brief but warm. He looks out to the doors that line the back of the cottage. “Unfortunately, I think the grounds will be more impressive in the daytime. Shall we turn in for the night?”
“I’m still a little tired,” I admit. Gone are the days when a long nap could keep me up all night.
“That is why we’re here, so you can rest. Past queens have said they find this place rejuvenating.”
“I’m sure it will be. But I don’t think I’ll be able to quiet my mind enough for bed yet.” My thoughts are still pinned on Eldas and me here, in a scenic spot, together, alone…with one bed.
“Then perhaps a nightcap of some sweet wine will help dull any racing thoughts?” Eldas heads into the kitchen.
“Wine, not mead?” I cross over, resting my elbows on the worn butcher’s block countertop. I’m momentarily entranced by Eldas rolling up his sleeves to his elbows, exposing muscular forearms beneath.
“Faeries make mead. Elves make wine. And it’s a crime you’ve yet to try the latter.” Eldas gives a wink. A wink. I have to sit on one of the stools so I don’t fall over with shock. Is this the same Elf King I met weeks ago? Gone is the marble and here is the man and all his glory. I hope he stays.
“Well, whose fault is that?” I ask playfully.
“Yet more blame you can lay at my feet. I will need a lifetime to make up for my previous transgressions against you.” But I only have a few more weeks, I hear unsaid.
Eldas retrieves a dusty bottle from a lower wine rack. He moves nimbly through the kitchen. He knows exactly where the corkscrew and glasses are. His movements opening the wine are fluid, as though he’s performed this task a hundred times.
“I wouldn’t have expected a king to seem so…natural in the kitchen,” I appraise.
“Even kings have hobbies.” Eldas pours generously. “Alice was an incredible chef. I learned from her.” I remember the plethora of cooking-related notes in her journal.
“Yet you looked so offended when I asked if you cooked our dinner a few weeks ago.” That was the dinner when he kissed me. I can almost see the moment Eldas has the same thought as his movements slow to a brief pause he quickly recovers from.
“Things were different then.”
“Things change quickly with us, it’d seem.”
“Maybe it’s because we don’t have very much time.” He meets my eyes as he sets down the bottle next to the glasses. There’s desperation there. I know the look of a man who wants something. But I’ve never felt my body react in such a way to that look. I’m aflame, heat pouring into my lower stomach faster than wine from the bottle. Every part of me is so sensitive that just the shifting of my clothes is almost too much.
“You—” I clear my throat. “—you came here with Alice?” I try and guide the topic back off us as I accept my glass from him.
The wine within is a deep plum color that seems to swirl with twilight as I tilt my glass. I wonder if a normal human would find it ominous. I wonder if I should. Instead, I’m entranced.
What grapes went into this? What other fruits? What process gave it that magical color? I have a twinge of regret when I realize I likely won’t be in Midscape long enough to even scratch the surface of this magical world.
“I did, as often as I was allowed. It was one of my few retreats as much as it was hers.”
“I still don’t understand… Why do the elves insist on keeping a young man locked up just because he’s an heir?” It seems so unfair.
“There are logical reasons, such as protection or ensuring he doesn’t shame himself by getting into trouble. Most likely because that’s just how it’s always been done and whatever reasons might have been there originally have been lost to time.” Eldas shrugs easily enough, but I’ve seen the ghostly scars on his spirit left behind by those years in solitude—his mannerisms, his looks, his hesitation and awkwardness in how to handle someone new coming into his world.
“Just like elves follow in the footsteps of their parents?” I reference Willow and Rinni.
“Humans have odd enough customs themselves. I hear you are actually allowed to have your own dreams and study for what it is you want to do, regardless of your parents and their wishes or wisdoms. Seems a bit selfish, doesn’t it?” He gives a coy smirk.
I burst out laughing. “Fair. One can be just as odd as the other. Though I think the humans win on this one.” Eldas chuckles and holds out his glass of wine for a toast, and I raise mine to hover next to his. “What’re we toasting to, this time?” I ask.
He thinks a moment. “To tomorrow.”
“What’s tomorrow?”
“Everything. May tomorrow hold every possibility. And may we be bold and hungry enough to take them for our own.”
The toast is sincere and unscripted, unlike the last time, and I gladly clink my glass against his. The wine is warm on my lips and complements the warmth in my stomach from his sentiments. Eldas gives me a sly smile from behind his glass, one I return.
For the very first time since coming to Midscape, I realize, in this moment, I don’t want to be anywhere but here.