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With avid eyes, Cal took in her surroundings and worked to match her stride to Relian’s longer one as he led her deeper into the gardens. She loved the way plant-life merged with the structures and statues. Art and nature melded together in a way she’d never seen perfected quite so well.
Even though truly enthralled with her surroundings, she purposefully focused her nervous attention anywhere but on Relian and the strange feelings he created. Her hand tingled where it rested on his arm, but she wouldn’t draw notice to herself by removing it.
They walked on for a few more minutes, the whisper of leaves and the song of birds surrounding them. The marble statues of elves and forest creatures glowed in the waning light.
Relian stopped before a stone bench and waited until she seated herself before folding down to sit beside her. They remained silent in the fading light. Would he talk first or should she?
“Night will soon fall.”
Relian’s voice startled her out of her thoughts. “Yes, it seems so,” agreed Cal quietly, not wanting to be the one to break the triviality of their conversation. However, this stilted exchange wouldn’t solve anything.
“Cal...Lady Cal, may I call you Cal in private?” She nodded, and he continued. “You may also address me as Relian if you desire it. Such formality when we’re alone seems outmoded given the situation in which we find ourselves.”
Cal let out a rueful laugh. “I couldn’t agree with you more.”
“Why do I have the feeling you won’t so readily agree with me in the near future?”
He gave a small smile that made her heart rate lurch before speeding up. Damn him. “Because, Relian.” She stumbled over his name, still unused to speaking it aloud. “We’re from different worlds. We can’t change that. I suppose our views will be quite different.”
“You speak wisely for one so young.”
Cal stared ahead but gave a slight shake of the head. “Not wise, just realistic.”
She leaned forward and dropped her elbows to her knees, turning to look at him. Cal almost wished she hadn’t. Seeing him just compounded the dilemma. Relian resembled no man she’d dated or even seen. His features were undeniably elvin, but she couldn’t give a concise answer of what made them so. He, like the other elves she’d noticed, had winged eyebrows that arched more sharply than most humans’ would without the help of wax or tweezers. Then there were the slim ears that gently curved into a point at their tip. Still, she didn’t know what made him so different from a human man. He just was.
His puzzled voice broke into her scrutiny. “Why do you look at me so intensely?”
She sighed. How could she explain? “You’re so different. I’m not just referring to the cultural aspects, either. You look like no man I’ve ever known, and I admit I’m finding that hard to digest. And you’re immortal, which is totally impossible.”
“Well, I don’t look like a human man, for I’m not one and have something akin to immortality. But that is a subject we’ll discuss at a later date. I’m not that different, though. Our two races were designed along the same fundamental lines. I have two hands and feet, just like a human male. If it would make you feel better, I am a man, just an elvin one.”
He talked so matter-of-factly and with such pride, Cal stifled an urge to laugh. Yes, she’d been well aware he was male. She supposed males—no matter what race, species, or whatever she should call it—were not so very different. It appeared, elf or human, both had egos their female counterparts had to watch carefully.
“That’s true. But everything, from the landscape to the people here, seems so foreign to me.” While saying this, she gestured at the garden surrounding them and then at him.
“I can’t deny that much of what you see here is strange to you. That fact will only abate with time and effort.”
“Time and effort?”
“With time, our ways won’t seem so different. With effort, you should be able to adopt them as your own.” He said this as though he thought it were the simplest thing to achieve.
Her ire flared, and she pulled herself up straighter. Relian didn’t ask her if she wanted to adopt his people’s ways—he just assumed she would. He took too many suppositions for granted. She didn’t know how long she’d stay here, let alone anything else. At this moment, she’d leave if she could. Even as that thought flickered through her mind, though, she didn’t quite believe it. Her dreams—and the contentment that often arose from them—pulled at her to find out what her life could be like here. With that, her anger sputtered out.
She didn’t know what she wanted, and that was dangerous for her life back home.
***
Relian sensed the agitation his words caused. “My lady, nothing has been decided as of yet.”
As he spoke, he knew the untruth of what he said. It had all but been decided. By him, his father, the council, and, most of all, the veil. If they could keep her here, they would—even by force. Somehow, she tied into the future of their survival, all of theirs. Her world and theirs. He didn’t want to burden her with that news unless he had no other choice. Finding out they not only expected her to bond with him but that they also thought she might play some part in saving two interconnected worlds would be too much right now. It was almost too much for him.
Cal took a deep breath, and her anger seemed to fade. “So what happens next? I’m kind of at a loss here. How do we get home?”
He held back a scowl. Of course, she’d think about returning home right away. He couldn’t fault that logic, even if he didn’t like it. There had to be a way to reassure her that staying in Eria was in her best interest, as well as in his. He’d have to phrase his words carefully so as not to offend or scare her. The best course of action lay with some cautiously placed truths. “My people, for the most part, are now aware of the binding. Those that aren’t will surely know by tomorrow.”
She folded her arms. “Why is that?”
“We announced it tonight. My father and a select few have known about it longer. We—my father, his council of advisors, and I—thought we could no longer hide the truth. Please don’t get upset by what I am about to tell you. For the most part, humans and elves have long been separated, and I’ll admit there is some prejudice against the thought of foreign humans here in Eria. That’s what I meant when I said the truth could no longer remain hidden. It’d only appear for the worse if the binding hadn’t been announced with all the joy it would normally bring.”
Cal sent him a questioning look. “The celebration tonight?”
“The very same one.”
“So I’m basically ruining any chance you have for a normal bond with a woman—female of your kind? Can we somehow break this binding?” She pointed and then plucked at hers.
His breath caught in his throat as fear singed him. Break the bond? They must not. She would have no real choice in the end, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell her that. Not yet. Was that cowardly? Yes, and quite unlike him. “As my father said, bindings are rarely broken. We receive that one chance to completely bond with someone if fortune shines upon us. We don’t receive another chance if the first opportunity passes us by, either due to our own devices or death.”
“Even if one of the pair to bond dies?”
“Yes. As I said, it doesn’t matter how we lose the choice. Once it is gone, it is gone forevermore.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.” Disbelief tinged her voice, and her brow furrowed.
Relian smothered a smile at her childish remark. He merely shrugged. “When is it ever?”
“But I’m human. Maybe the rules or whatever you call them don’t apply to us in the same way because of that?” The words tumbled out in hopeful eagerness.
Was she really so ready to desert him and the bond that was already beginning to tug at him? As his heart lurched in a most unbecoming manner, Relian couldn’t stop the accusatory glare he sent her way. He didn’t like this turn in conversation at all. “Regardless, the outcome is the same for me. It’s seeking to finish the bond it began.”
“What is seeking to finish the bond?” Puzzlement rather than the previous disapproval creased her forehead.
“The binding. The binding is essentially the beginning stages of the bond. It wants to be completed. It desires to be completed.”
She glanced away, her hands twisting in the skirt of her dress. “What happens if we don’t complete it? I mean, besides never having another chance to bond again? Are there any negative effects? Your father mentioned something about consequences. But since we didn’t ask for this, surely there’s a way out. Not everyone can be happy to be betrothed this way.”
He inwardly cringed. She was under the misapprehension their binding was brought about the normal way. To tell her even part of the truth would be hard—one answered question could lead to a thousand unanswerable ones. Any information about how unusual their situation was, beyond the apparent, would have to be carefully controlled and released at the appropriate time. At least until they could assess her adaptability and mental health and discover why the veil wanted her here.
Total omission, though, wouldn’t serve him well on this occasion. If he wanted her to go through with the ceremony, some measure of candor would likely sway her in his favor. But the whole truth could very well close her mind off to further considerations of their binding or push her emotional stability over the limits. “My people typically accept the binding for the gift it is.” Because in their cases, it’s something they seek willingly. “As for any negative consequence, I cannot say for myself, as I’ve never experienced it. But I’ve heard that the joy of living isn’t as strong as before. Unfortunately, the soul loses something of itself when a bind or bond is broken. It’s hard to ever be quite the same again.”
She gasped and faced him. “I would condemn you to be a broken man...elf?”
“Not broken. If severed early enough, I would become an elf who changes because he lost something he can never regain.” He gave a shrug. What else could he say? “I cannot explain it more fully than that.”
He’d simplified it quite a bit for her, but the core fact remained: one cannot break a binding without cost. No matter how he might begrudge that fact, part of his soul was entwined with hers—not fully yet, but enough to negatively affect him if the binding remained uncompleted. Soon, even that would change, and he wouldn’t be able to let her go. Not when his sanity counted on it. Death would be a welcome release, one he’d be guaranteed.
His heart clenched. Death. She was mortal, and death came easily to people such as she unless he bonded to her. That ghostly specter visited his people much more rarely. For his kind, this was a blessing and a curse. Loss and a nearly endless life didn’t combine well. For those with any kind of bond, it was doubly worse. But if she bonded with him, she would then share his lifespan, whether she liked it or not.
However, to burden her with all this knowledge right now did not seem a wise choice. Humans were known to be fragile. The time for pressure of that kind would come later, if need be. The illusion she had some control would keep her calm and pliant. At least that was what he hoped.
Cal stared at him and then at her hands, appearing to ponder something. She raised her face, her glassy eyes searching his. After she hesitated a few seconds, she spoke in a subdued tone. “And if the bond is not broken early enough?”
“Then madness and even death may await me.”
She flinched. “And me? Would I feel the same as you and suffer the same fate?”
“Since you’re human, I suspect you would feel the same, except to a lesser degree. The death part would probably not apply. ”
A rapid fire of emotions flitted across her face. “So I might survive, but I’d never be truly happy again? Is that what you’re saying?” Her voice rose a little.
“I wouldn’t say ‘never happy.’ There’d just be a lingering melancholy present most times.”
“That sounds like unhappy to me,” she cried, her hands clenching in her lap.
He sighed. It sounded that way to him, too. Not that he would ever admit this to her. “I don’t know what else to say. This is the best way I can describe it.”
“How can you be so calm?” she snapped, her agitation growing.
“Young one, I’m not calm, just resigned. There’s nothing I can do to change it, nor can you. You must realize that, no matter what course you choose.”
“What course I choose? And don’t call me young one. Considering what you want of me, that’s just freaky.”
Relian fought his impatience, his frayed fabric of nerves threatening to tear beyond any stitches he could give it. “There are but two choices before you. Yes or no, at some point you must pick one.” He tried to keep his voice a steady monotone.
“Yes or no?” she questioned dumbly.
“The binding! Yes or no to the binding,” he retorted more hotly than he intended. This woman tried his patience like no other.
Cal jumped a little, and alarm spread over her face. Relian didn’t know if it was from the news he imparted or the way he imparted it. He swore under his breath. Why did he overreact around her? He felt like a young elfling who had no control over himself or his words. It had to be that dratted bond at work.
Her hand shakily tucked a tendril of hair behind an ear, and he watched, fascinated. A sudden desire to see that glorious hair spilling around her shoulders rocketed through him. It’d be a wondrous sight, as it had been in his dreams. He just knew it.
“I’m sorry, but all this is new to me. I need...I need time to think, and I can't possibly make a decision of that magnitude right now. I need to go home.”
Her rational words broke through his haze. She talked of home, and here he was trying to force her into a decision. Shame washed over him. He’d resolved to be more patient. Indeed, his father rebuked him to take more caution with her. What was he doing instead? He surely didn’t show the calm exterior in which most elves prided themselves.
He forced his pulse to stop its upward spiral. “Nay, no one is asking for an answer right now.” At least, not yet. His voice sounded hollow and empty to his ears. “All we attempt right now is to make your stay and your friend’s as comfortable as we may. Nothing more.”
Hopefully, she wouldn’t give his people cause to make her stay unpleasant, for they could and would if they saw the need. Much rested on what she didn’t understand, on what they didn’t understand.
“How long will I have to decide before...”
His mind blanked. He needed sufficient time to convince her to bond, sufficient time to make her fall in love with him. Was it a deception on his part? Yes, but a needed one. If she tried to flee or refused him... No, those weren’t options they could countenance. However, if he could make this more palatable for her, he would.
“A year. That is the traditional time a couple has to finish a binding before the effects become life-threatening. The bonding either has to be broken then or completed.”
Even as he said this, he felt like the biggest liar. A sick feeling tore at his insides. Though it was true that the effects of an uncompleted bond become worse with time, it varied from couple to couple. He’d just randomly picked a number to placate her. He wanted to give her time to get used to the idea...used to him. Still, what was a year? It was nothing to an elf.
She stared at him, shock and horror printed on her face. He swallowed against the guilt. She was no elf but a human who likely felt keenly every year that passed.
And as for letting her leave... Though his people couldn’t control the veil, it could be urged to comply. For her, however, he wouldn’t utter the words of the summoning spell. At least not yet. He’d take no chances. His duty was clear.
No matter her initial decision, he couldn’t allow her to go home, at least not permanently. Maybe not ever.