| |
The feel of solid ground under her feet startled Cal from her thoughts. Maggie let out a startled yelp and glanced at the ground. A fleeting look down showed they stood upon the edge of a stone mosaic path. On both sides of the walkway grew the most impossibly green grass. She and Maggie peered up, and now it was what was beyond the mist that held their attention.
Maggie folded her arms protectively over her chest. “Do you see what I think I do?”
Cal rubbed her hands over goose-bump covered arms and whispered, “If you see many figures, tall figures—yes.”
As the mist slowly evaporated, Cal saw their eyes hadn’t fooled them. The forms became sharper by the second. This wasn’t reassuring. If they could easily see the figures, the figures could just as easily see them. As they didn’t know where they were, staying in place seemed like a good idea. She had more than an inkling of whom the people might be and what to call this land, even if she didn’t know much else. Until her assumptions were wrong, she wouldn’t be moving.
“Well, I’ll be damned, but I don’t think we’re in Wisconsin anymore,” Maggie said in stupefaction. She gazed about the tree-lined clearing with something akin to panic on her face.
Cal rolled her eyes. “You think?”
The mist cleared and revealed people that just had to be elves. Tall, beautiful, and all relatively young looking, they couldn’t be anything else. All of them stared at Cal and Maggie with an intense scrutiny that reminded her of scientists who’d discovered a rare breed of bird or insect. She tugged on the skirt of her dress, her stomach queasy at all this attention.
Cal glanced at Maggie. Yep, the “bug under the microscope” look leaked through her friend’s bravado. On Earth, they’d never warranted this kind of attention. She searched the watchful faces for one she’d recognize. He had to be here somewhere.
Her gaze landed on a head of glossy black hair that was located toward the front of the crowd. Relian! But as she stared, the excitement in her veins curdled. No, no, that couldn’t be him. The elf who looked back at her had a sneer on his face, and even though she couldn’t make out his eye color at this distance, his loathing struck her like a fist. Though Relian hadn’t always looked friendly during their meeting in the mist, he’d never shown such hate.
She ripped her attention from the elf, not wanting to admit there was a minuscule chance he could be her prince. With increasing desperation, she searched for a familiar face that’d hopefully be far more welcoming.
Her vision finally landed on what it sought, and relief, potent and sharp, nearly turned her into a boneless heap. Relian wasn’t that creep who’d been staring at her with murder in his eyes, which merely meant he had a look-alike skulking around the place. Maybe they were brothers or cousins?
Pushing that troubling thought to the back of her mind, she drank in his face until he saw her gawking at him. Good lord, what was she doing? Her face flamed, and she tore her gaze away. She made a show of looking at her shoes, her uncomfortable high-heeled shoes. But it wasn’t like she’d known to change into her sneakers before leaving Earth.
As she lifted her head slightly and snuck a glance through her eyelashes, she caught Relian gazing at her. She straightened, examining Relian and the elf standing beside him. The elf had to be his father or brother. But brother didn’t fit as well as father. While they looked practically identical, except for the color of their long hair, the elf she pegged as the father seemed even more ancient. An indecipherable air of many ages clung to him.
Relian possessed the same air, just not to that degree, though he still felt very ancien— What the hell, how could she sense degrees of “ancientness”? She’d really lost it. The whole idea lay beyond her comprehension, beyond her carefully scripted world that dealt in decades.
Nobody talked, at least to them. The weight of many stares pressed upon her. Cal turned to her friend, and they both rolled their eyes. Did the elves think they wanted to come here? She and Maggie were in a strange land, surrounded by even stranger people. Not that either had expected a warm welcome, but when everyone regarded them as if they were exotic mammals, it did nothing to calm their jittery nerves.
Relian and his father spoke amongst themselves. A jolt of surprise raced up her back. The musical language fit the elves, but how could she understand the few snatched words that drifted to her? She pursed her lips and looked to Maggie, mouthing, “Can you understand?”
Her friend nodded.
“The fog did it?” Cal said then shrugged her shoulders. Who knew what had caused their language acquisition? Maggie must’ve felt the same because she lifted one shoulder helplessly.
How long would the silence stretch on before she went bonkers? She’d speak, but she didn’t want to hear what’d invariably tumble from her lips. It was sure to be nothing impressive. Her eyes flitted to her shoes. Damn, she fell into that vicious cycle. Shoes, face, shoes. His face. Her shoes. Her gaze was like a ball on a tennis court. Then it stilled.
Relian strolled toward them, toward her, with an inherent grace that only dancers or, maybe, elves achieved. Or maybe dancers couldn’t and only elves could. Her brain had frozen again. While Cal pondered this latest question, she fought the urge to run for cover. His cat-like gait made him seem dangerous, like a pacing tiger that could turn predator at any time.
“Lady Calantha, my lady,” he said, nodding to her and then to Maggie. Cal frowned. He’d used her real name and added a title before it, though she preferred to be just plain Cal. It seemed that formality was a part of elvin culture. She racked her mind for royal titles she’d pick up from a novel or two.
“Welcome to Eriannon, the capital of the Erian elves. I am Prince Relian, as I believe you already know, Lady Calantha. However, I have not had the pleasure of an introduction to your friend.”
He spoke with a graciousness that surely had many female hearts leaping out of their owners’ chests and maybe even a few males’ if elves swung that way. Shit, she’d have to be the one to introduce Maggie. If only she’d read up on etiquette. Something like How to Meet and Greet Formerly Mythical Beings for the Mortal Maid would’ve been useful. Too bad it wasn’t in any bookstore. Well, actually, it might be in some New Age....
Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she threw together a formal reply. “Your Highness, may I present Maggie D’Anglio?”
***
Relian touched his hand to his forehead in a gesture that signified respect and goodwill. He took in every little movement and detail about Cal. How she held her head. How her hands fluttered restlessly. His hungry eyes filed them all away. Any lingering anger he’d felt toward her drifted away like a puff of smoke.
Neither he nor his father had brought up the fact that all here could comprehend the somewhat harsh language spoken by the women. The veil’s magic must be at work here, something understood by any elf over the age of one hundred and fifty. In truth, words failed him now he was in her presence. Utter quietness pervaded the atmosphere. It seemed as if not only his people and their vocal cords stilled in confusion but nature itself.
The women fidgeted. They watched the elves and the elves watched them, nobody wanting to disturb the silence first. He prodded himself to say something, anything. Where was his famed control?
His father came up behind him, with Kenhel following closely. Relian stifled a curse and prayed this wouldn’t turn into some kind of comical farce. As king, his father needed to greet new guests. Talion would also be insatiably curious about these two human women, one of who would also be Relian’s complete bondmate. Kenhel, whose duty rested in protecting the royal family, should know little chance of harm existed at the moment. He probably felt that his duty now lay with satisfying his own inquisitiveness, which he could only do through close observation. Very close observation, apparently. Relian groaned internally.
The king stepped beside Relian. “Dear Ladies. I see my son is lax in introducing his king and father.”
Relian sent him an annoyed glance. His father knew full well he hadn’t had the time to introduce anyone but himself. Through tacit agreement, they’d decided Relian would speak to the women first. Cal would surely appreciate a familiar face.
His father ignored him and, instead, turned his most charming smile on the two young mortals. Relian didn’t offer an introduction. After all, they now knew who his father was. But Talion still gave him a pointed stare.
Cal and Maggie looked on, their posture tense.
He strived not to roll his eyes at his father. “My ladies, this is my esteemed father and king.” The sarcasm bled through his tone. No one, not even Talion, paid it any attention, though.
Both women bowed their heads mechanically, looking perplexed and awkward while chorusing, “Your Majesty.”
The king gave them a pleased smile. “I am King Talion. Welcome to Eriannon, the capital of Eria. I hope you will enjoy our hospitality to its fullest. I realize you’ve both experienced much distress by coming here or, maybe I should say, by being brought here.”
Both women gave a nod at this but otherwise remained silent. Of course, a human would be hesitant after finding herself in the midst of a celebration where everyone but she and her friend were elves. He would allow Cal and her friend their trepidation.
Part of him wanted a private moment with Cal, but the proper protocol didn’t permit this at the time. Besides, he wasn’t sure if he trusted himself—or his hands—to be alone with her. What was it about her, a mere human, that sent his blood humming through his veins?
Relian gestured to a side path that meandered through part of the town as it headed back toward the palace. “Please, would you like to sit and talk with us in a more secluded setting? As you can see, we are in the midst of a celebration.” He wisely didn’t tell them the cause of the festivities.
Cal and Maggie traded a glance. His breath stilled. Would they show enough trust? When they both answered, “Yes,” he released the pent-up pressure in his lungs.
His father motioned to him and Kenhel. “Splendid idea. Relian, escort Lady Calantha. Kenhel, you’ll accompany Lady Maggie. We’ll retreat to the private gardens. The celebration can go on without us. Excuse me while I make a few preparations.”
The avid throng of onlookers parted to let his father pass unhampered. Talion swept ahead to pull aside one of his advisors, while Relian stopped a servant to request refreshments for the women. Something fortifying like alcohol might be needed.
He just wasn’t sure who’d require it the most—him or the women.