“The fae lose their glamour whenever they come in contact with fresh water, right?”
He nods.
Talk of the fae brings back that day in the city. I suppress a shudder and focus on the other thoughts fae mentions give me—thoughts of Harrow and glimmer. I’ve only been away a few days, but it seems like too long.
“Harrow will be here too, right?”
“Yes, and our mother as well, since it’s a family trip,” Eldas says with a note of apology.
“If she’s civil then I will be too.” I’ve long since learned that it’s impossible to make or expect everyone to like you. Of course, I would’ve preferred if Eldas’s mother, of all people, at least tolerated me. But if my suspicions are correct, her hatred lies with Alice, not me, and whatever dynamic Eldas’s father and Alice had. The best I can hope for is that in the future, if I stay—if I return—then she can learn to accept me. But, for the time being, I put Sevenna aside.
“We shall see.” Eldas doesn’t sound too hopeful.
Across the expanse of water is the arc of a city. When the city could no longer build out, it built up. I see the familiar architecture of Quinnar here in the towering buildings and gray stone. At the heart of the city is a large keep nestled within the wall. Much like at the castle of Quinnar, a many-gated tunnel snakes through the base of the keep—the only entrance and exit, I presume, to the fae lands.
We step out of the carriage and a wave of servants bows to greet us. I walk at Eldas’s side, adjusting my skirts. I wish he had helped me by suggesting I wear something slightly more formal. Wasn’t that why he packed so much for me? Perhaps my mission to get him accustomed to the clothes I usually wear was a little too successful.
Eldas’s brother, Drestin, is the odd man out of his siblings. He didn’t inherit his mother’s black hair. His is, instead, a dark shade of brown that I presume belonged to their father. It’s cut even shorter than Harrow’s and gives him the distinct air of a military man.
Drestin’s wife, Carcina, is ready to pop at any moment. The entire way to our room she ambles alongside us with one hand on her very pregnant stomach, apologetic for being unable to curtsy or bow properly. I assure her not to worry, but that only seems to fluster her more.
“What do you think of them?” Eldas asks the first moment we’re alone.
“They’re pleasant,” I answer honestly.
“They are a delight.”
“Might I ask something about them?” I take off my traveling cloak, draping it over a settee situated near a hearth.
“Anything.”
“Carcina is Drestin’s wife.”
“Yes?”
“And she’s the mother of his child?” I ask somewhat timidly.
“Why wouldn’t she be?”
“Well…” I’m not sure why I’m dancing around this topic. I clear my throat and collect myself. “I know the Human Queen wasn’t your mother. I know Elf Kings usually take lovers. I know the elves value tradition, but I’m afraid I still haven’t sorted out what ‘tradition’ is when it comes to elf lords siring their heirs.”
“Ah, that’s right. Talk of heirs has never really come up.”
A fact I was all too ready to leave to the side when I’d first arrived, as even the thought of being intimate with Eldas was unfathomable. But now… “I don’t mean to imply you and I, that I was going to—” I start to add hastily, thinking of our past few days. He cuts me off with a laugh.
“It’s a fair question; I didn’t think you meant to imply anything.” Eldas unbuttons his coat, distracting me for a moment with the elegant movements of his fingers. “The Elf King is permitted to take lovers and the Human Queen is as well. It has been tradition for the Elf King to sire his heir with a lover—like my mother—because it ensures the Elf King will be wholly elf, and his deep connection to the Veil wouldn’t be at risk.”
“I see.” I mull this over. “So there’s never been a child of an Elf King and a Human Queen?”
“No. It’s not—”
“Traditional?” I finish with a slight grin. I meander into the bedroom, coming to a stop as I take note that there’s only one bed.
“I figured it wouldn’t be a problem.” Eldas’s voice is deep with a hint of mischief. He leans against the doorframe, his silvery tunic like liquid metal over his lean shoulders. “My brother offered separate rooms, however…”
“Of course not.” I gasp with a mask of mock offense. “How dare you suggest we inconvenience them further!”
“No, we wouldn’t want that, now would we?” He smirks, hands sliding around my waist, tugging me to his hard body.