We chatted as we made our way through the city, stopping to look in shop windows and explore markets. It was almost like Midar if it wasn’t for the lack of children running around. Only adults walked down the streets. And they all seemed to have a purpose. There was no one just milling around or loitering.
“Where are all the children?” I asked as we walked down a street that should have been full of them. Statues of children adorned the sides of the road, but there were no actual children to be seen.
“They’re all in school.” Darith answered. “But they’re not allowed to go out on their own until they’re eighty.”
I blinked. “Eighty?”
“Children are unwise,” Calida said. “They need to be protected.”
“But eighty?” I repeated.
At that stage, they would be teenagers in most other places. Eighty was excessive. Teenagers needed their freedom.
“It’s not that bad,” Darith said. “They have their entire lives ahead of them. And they’re always supervised when they’re out.”
In Midar, children were free to roam as they pleased. Not a single soul would think to tell them what to do or where to go. The thought of children being kept on such a short leash was foreign to me.
“I suppose,” I said, still not convinced. “It just seems like they’re missing out on a lot.”
“They’re not,” Darith slowed her step. “Trust me. They have a lot of fun. There aren’t many children born to Elves. So we cherish the ones we have.”
That made sense. If there were few children, people would be more protective of them.
Chapter 10
The Politics of Marriage
Reading my letters from home made me feel a little better, but I still missed them. And I wasn’t the only one. It had almost been three weeks since I arrived in Rossertham, but it felt much longer.
My mother wrote about the latest gossip back home and how my little sister was doing at school. She mentioned they got a new cat, too. The cat enjoyed sleeping in my bed with Tilila. I smiled at that, imagining the two of them curled up together.
I put down the letter and picked up another one, this one from Souhir. In her letter, she told me about her latest project - trying to get a date with professor Ghoul as we nicknamed him. She thought he was interested in her, but she couldn’t tell. I chuckled. Souhir was always too shy with men. The professor was interested, but she wouldn’t make a move.
I sighed. It was good to hear from home, but I missed them. Grabbing a pen, I jotted a letter back to them, telling them about the Eternal Court and the people I met. I didn’t mention the fact that I was struggling. It would only worry my mother and upset Souhir. I also advised her on how she should handle the professor.
There were also letters from work, which I quickly skimmed through. Letters with requests for information or articles I wrote. I made a mental note to answer them all later.
Emre wrote things went sideways since I left and that he missed having me around. He also asked when I was coming back.
It was good to know that I was missed, but the idea that I could come back soon was laughable. I wouldn’t be able to go back home for a while. Elvish time differed from Midarian time. In Midar, the wedding preparations would already started, but here I hadn’t even attended a formal event yet.
I put down the letters and leaned back and looked up. I missed my bed, the food, and most of all, I missed the people. Rossertham was a beautiful city, but it didn’t feel like home.
The door opened, and I turned around. Prince Maedras stood in the doorway. His hair was damp and slicked back. His eyes lingered on my letters before surveying my room. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“No, of course not.” I stood up from behind my desk. “What can I do for you?”
He walked into the room and stood before the tapestries. His muscles rippled under his yellow robe as he moved. It was hard to tear my eyes away from him. “I’m pleased to see you made the place your own,” he said, his voice low and husky.
I drew nearer. His finger lingered on a gold thread of one tapestry. “Thank you,” I said carefully. “I wanted to make it feel like home.”
“And have you?” he asked, his eyes meeting mine.
“Not yet,” I admitted. “But I’m sure in time I will.”
He was silent for a moment before turning to look at the tapestry of the Great Wall of Midar. “It’s functional, if not lacking in grandeur.”
And here I thought I could have a normal conversation with him. “I wanted nothing too ostentatious.” I smiled serenely. “I prefer a more simple life. These rooms and the ones you had assigned me to suit me.”