“Do you all have the same mother and father?”
“What kind of a question—yes we all have the same mother and father.”
“I know your mother wasn’t the last Human Queen.” I rest my hand lightly on Alice’s journal. She seemed to have a…strange relationship with the former Elf King.
“Aww, are you looking into our parentage because you want to know if you’ll have to birth Eldas’s little screaming spawn? Don’t worry, the Elf King takes lovers for his heirs.”
I ignore the remarks. I’m not going to be here long enough to broach the topic of who’s dealing with siring heirs. Fortunately, the subject of consummating our marriage hasn’t come up either in conversation or in the journals I’ve read. I’m pleased to see that the people’s investment in the nighttime couplings of their rulers was also greatly exaggerated in the stories I read as a girl. “Where’s Drestin?”
“He’s out in Westwatch.” Harrow takes another sip of his drink. “Oh, that’s right, you know nothing about us. Let me explain.”
“I can find out on my own,” I say curtly.
“Westwatch is the fortress along the great wall that borders the fae forests,” he explains anyway. “It was built a few hundred years ago and helps keep their infighting out from our lands. Such an honorable appointment for the noble Drestin.” Harrow looks at the corner of the room, angry at something I can’t see.
I laugh softly and shake my head.
“What’s so funny?”
“You remind me of a friend, is all. She has two sisters and the fights they got into are legendary.” I wonder how Emma is. I hope her heart is holding up enough that Ruth isn’t flying off the handle at every turn. She should have enough potion in stock to last a few days…but she’ll have to take the ferry to Lanton for more when she runs out. Now it’s my heart that’s aching on her behalf.
“Don’t compare me to you humans and your pathetic plebeian problems.”
I laugh, loudly. “Forgive me, mighty elf prince. Because you sound so far above us lowly folk when you’re clearly just jealous of your brothers.”
“You don’t know anything about me.” Harrow throws the mug across the room. What little liquid was left in it splatters across the floor before it lands with a loud crash, shattering.
I jump, but immediately work to keep my composure.
“Clean that up, human.” He points at the mess he made and storms toward the door.
Harrow freezes when Hook’s growl turns into an angry bark. He turns, and the moment his eyes meet the wolf’s, Hook lunges.
“Hook, no!” I shout. Magic thrums within me. I see the potion I made for Harrow steam off the floor and disappear. Balance heeds my demands on instinct—potion in exchange for a barrier.
Fresh growth springs up impossibly from the wooden floorboards. Hook stops suddenly, barking at the wall of saplings I’ve erected between him and Harrow. He looks back at me with his golden eyes as Harrow glances between us.
“Hook, no,” I repeat, somehow managing to keep my voice steady despite the magic I just performed. How did I do that? Luckily Hook backs down.
“You…” Harrow’s eyes take up almost as much space on his head as his massive ears.
“That was the second time I saved your life today. A thank you would be appropriate,” I say with narrowed eyes.
All I get is a glare, and Harrow’s swift departure, leaving me with the thrill and awe of the magic still tingling in my fingers.