I laugh lightly. It’s a fragile sound to pair with our delicate explorations. “What’re you having?”
“This?” He swirls the glass. Ice clanks. “It’s faerie mead. It was sent with their king’s apologies for the incident in Quinnar.”
“May I try some?” There’s a narrow bar with an additional glass set out and a bottle of liquid the same color as what’s in Eldas’s glass.
“I didn’t think you would want to since it’s of fae make. I only opened it because it’s strong and because tonight…I needed some strength.”
“You needed strength around me?” I lift my eyebrows.
“You are perhaps the one thing in Midscape I find terrifying.”
I chuckle as I help myself to some liquor. As I pour, Hook takes my spot at the fireside. Wolf and man regard each other warily as I return and hold my glass out to Eldas, distracting him from Hook.
“To strength, tonight.”
He stares at my gesture long enough that I’m uncomfortable.
“Do you toast here?”
“We do.” For the first time, his chilly gaze seems inviting. His eyes are cool, but like a brisk winter morning that you’re ready to greet. Eldas lifts his glass. “To this world. To the next. To the people we meet between and the bonds we share.” He lightly clanks his glass against mine and drinks. I do the same.
“Is that an elvish toast?” I ask.
“It is.”
“It’s lovely.”
He doesn’t seem to know how to respond to the compliment so he deflects instead. “I see the beast is still insistent on roaming my castle.”
“Hook,” I correct gently. “Yes, he still stays with me.”
“You must return to the Fade eventually,” Eldas scolds lightly. Yet, despite his tone, he leans forward and reaches for Hook. The wolf tenses but permits Eldas to gently scratch him between the ears.
“He goes back and forth as he needs. Sometimes he runs off of his own accord, but he always comes back. And he’s a good companion whenever he’s here.” I don’t want to think about Hook leaving me for good, as Eldas’s tone implies.
“Good. This castle can be lonely.” Eldas purses his lips slightly, as if that were something he hadn’t intended to say.
“You would know, wouldn’t you?”
“As much as you would.” Eldas turns the sentiment back on me and I’m silenced. We take long sips of mead.
“Did you really stay locked away here while you were waiting for me?” The question comes out weakly. I’m afraid of the answer.
“Rinni told you, didn’t she?” He doesn’t look at me when he says it. I doubt he likes feeling vulnerable. But I’m not going to apologize for taking an interest in his wellbeing.
“She did. Don’t be cross with her.”
“You continue to tell me who I can and cannot be cross with.” Eldas glances at me from the corner of his eye. I can almost see him fighting a smirk and that brings a smile to my lips.
“Consider my advice like any other counsel: recommendations.” I take another sip as the conversation lulls. I wait. Nothing. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“I did continue to sequester myself. I wanted to present myself to the world at the same time as my queen but…” He runs a hand over his hair and shakes his head. “Nothing is going according to plan. Then there was you…and your nature shredded the last notion of my carefully concocted designs. You really are nothing like I expected.” Before I can remark on the almost tender sentiment, he turns to the table. “Shall we eat?”
“Very well.” I am quick to abandon what Eldas expected of me. I’m almost afraid of what I might find is the answer. No…not that…I’m afraid of discovering what I hope is the answer—I’m nothing like he expected in a way he might be enjoying. A feeling that’s dangerously mutual. “Did you cook all this?”
He scrunches his nose in disgust. “Of course not. I have someone who does that.”
“Yet the castle seems so empty.” I take my seat, and he takes his. “I’ve wondered who does all the cooking.”