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The last remnants of the day’s light shone through the windows in the long gallery and caressed Cal’s skin. Colorful paintings, tapestries, and statues lined the walls. Unlike in pictures she’d seen of medieval castles, the effect wasn’t dreary or heavy. Nor was the atmosphere sterile as a museum would be. No, this space was...beautiful. Plant-life, both of the real variety and carved of stone and wood, lent a controlled wildness and seeming freedom to the area. Cal loved it.
Relian had brought her here once. A sigh escaped her at the thought of his name and all the mixed-up emotions he brought out in her.
She’d avoided him for the last ten days. Though fury still smoldered in her gut, she’d calmed down enough to see a few of Relian’s points. Maggie’s talk with her had helped in that regard. If the elves had admitted right from the start that they’d never allow her to return home permanently, it would’ve taken away some of their initial leverage. She could’ve run away or killed herself for all they knew. At the very least, telling her she had little choice in her so-called decisions would’ve caused her to fight them at every turn. Still, how could she forgive Relian for his deception and many omissions?
Cal trailed her fingers along a stone ledge and frowned. Not so long ago, her fingers would’ve been running through his hair, instead. He would’ve sat beside her and pulled her in— She dug her palm into the rough stone. No, he’d closed that path with his actions.
Relian had been avoiding her, too. She heard he was out on patrol much of the time, which worried her far more than she cared to admit. In fact, something had occurred yesterday that still sent an icy finger down her spine. While she was in the great hall, a sensation of heart-pounding terror crashed over her. Suddenly, it was as if she were Relian and could see through his eyes—could feel the air leaving her body as she hit the ground, see the sword preparing to end her life. The vision cut off there, but the scream building on her lips had ripped through the great hall like an alarm. Arrein and the king were quick to assure her that it was only a waking nightmare, but she hadn’t missed the concern in their eyes. Hours later, when a falcon brought word that the prince was unharmed, the fear squeezing at her chest eased. Finally, she could breathe normally again.
Even now, that horrible fright still lingered in a corner of her mind. Although part of her was glad that Relian was absent—sorting out her mind was easier that way—another portion only wanted him safe by her side.
In spite of her worry and affection—she now shied away from the word love—she didn’t know if they could salvage their relationship. Did she even want to? He was a prince and warrior. Some kind of battle would always be on his doorstep.
Still, no matter what the future held, the time for talking would soon come.
Dread welled up at the thought of that sure-to-happen event. She was determined to find out what he really felt for her. Maybe he was a good actor who was serving as her consolation prize for her forced stay in Eria. But why would the elves offer up the prince of their realm for such a role if any human woman would’ve sufficed? If the binding were merely fodder they thought to feed her, they would’ve picked someone else of less importance to play the part.
Yeah, that theory didn’t make sense because of their shared dreams and sightings of the mist. Those had been given by the veil, right? Even if the elves had somehow faked the binding, she somehow doubted they’d played around with her dreams.
Then there were his remarks about humans. Sure, some humans were fickle, but his “label them with a broad stroke of a brush” views still rankled. Going home had never sounded so good. A pang of homesickness struck. She’d rather be buried under mountains of homework assignments and work hours than stranded in this seeming limbo.
Soft footfalls sounded behind her, causing her to whirl around. She froze. Relian stood at the north entrance. He was there, and he was safe. Though she’d been told that, seeing him drove that fact straight to her heart. Her heady relief soon fled, though. He was there, and he’d want to talk.
Suddenly, the spacious room seemed to shrink around her. He strode a few more paces and then stopped, indecision clouding his face for a brief second. So he was no more eager for the looming conversation than she was. That reassured her marginally.
His clothes and hair were as immaculate as ever, but the pallor of his normally tanned skin riveted her attention. Were those dark circles under his eyes? Elves might be long-lived, but they were susceptible to some of the same ills as mankind, like sleeplessness.
Trying to school her emotions, she willed her expression steady. Why couldn’t anything be easy? Normal. Falling for a nice human boy would’ve been great. Why did it have to be an elf prince with a dimension that loomed between them?
Relian’s face grew grimmer as he marched over to her. He stared, his hot gaze not leaving hers. Even though she wanted nothing more than to break the connection, she met his eyes bravely.
After a torturously long moment, he closed his eyes and spoke quietly. “With you, nothing ever turns out the way I expect.”
He’d so closely echoed her thoughts. She swallowed down the knot in her throat, but words still wouldn’t come.
His face creased with remorse. “Only you could make me so furious, yet regretful.” Shaking his head, he looked at her. “How you make me remember forgotten truths or maybe truths that were never learned.”
“W...what?”
“My heated words. Though they may contain some truth, I can’t deny that my people have untold years to develop their skills, both mental and physical. We can’t judge humanity by our standards. I didn’t mean to disparage your people. You’ve been none of those things I accused you of.”
She frowned at him. “Do you believe your people to be superior?” He better answer this correctly.
“No...” When she sent him a disbelieving look, he trailed off. “Truthfully, I hadn’t given it much thought. I guess so. I suppose like many other elves, I believed our advantages gave us a certain higher ground. Perceived superiority is easy to foster against a group who isn’t present to speak for itself.”
“Kind of convenient, huh?” She wasn’t being very sympathetic, but the desire to enact a little reparation flamed within her. Let him grovel a bit. He’d put her through enough in the past weeks, not to mention the past months and years.
“You proved me wrong.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you mean by that?”
“Only that you are here to speak for your people, and you’ve smashed any beliefs I had to pieces. You’ve proved to be resilient and strong.”
“Uh-huh.” She drummed her fingers on her arms. He knew how to talk pretty when he had to.
His lips tightened. “Why must you misunderstand everything I say?”
“Now your words are my fault?”
“Gah, no! Stop twisting what I say to suit your purposes. I know you’re upset with me, but apologizing is impossible when you are like this.”
“When I’m like what?” she asked, her voice razor sharp with precision.
A panicked grimace flashed over his face. “No, I mean when we’re like this.”
She didn’t answer. Her fingers kept drumming. Some part of her knew she was being a brat, but she couldn’t stop herself.
He cursed under his breath before stalking up to her and framing her face between strong hands. His grip didn’t hurt, but his gaze speared her to stay silent. “I’m sorry. Truly. You’re not making this easy, are you?”
She couldn’t break away, couldn’t glance away. Still, why should she make it easy? If she did, she’d have to turn her back on the past, on her world. Plus, his continued secrecy had worn thin. He’d had so many times to come clean.
With an intensity that should’ve scared her, he pulled her toward him and enclosed her within the band of his arms. She stood stiffly until the warmth of his body seeped into hers. He didn’t push her for anything else. Her cloak of anger lightened. She couldn’t stay mad, not while he was like this. Not while he held her. She closed her eyes in a mix of resignation, sadness, and contentment.
He buried his face in her hair, whispering, “I don't want to argue.”
Her arms slid around his waist of their own volition. She didn’t have the heart to remove them, feeling as if they’d always belonged there. “Neither do I, but this talk isn’t over.”
“I know. Come, let’s sit down. We have much to discuss.”
She let him lead her to a nearby bench. Once they were seated, he took her hand in his. “I apologize for my actions and words. My beliefs about humankind at the beginning did me no favors. I was leery of putting too much pressure on you. I knew I needed you whole and relatively happy if I was to convince you to bond with me.”
“You can’t treat every human you come across as feeble-minded.”
“I realize that. But that was only part of it. I wanted to protect you, and that had nothing to do with your humanity. That all had to do with you being you.”
She raised a brow. “What do you mean?”
“Though I sought to make you fall in love with me, I’m the one who fell.”
Cal stared at him, her mouth gaping open. “You mean that.”
“Feel my emotions. I’m being completely truthful.”
The full force of them hit her with an intensity that stole her breath. Oh my. He loved her.
He loved, loved her.
“And I know before this whole debacle happened you felt the same way, too.”
She couldn’t deny it. “You’ll have to work to regain my trust.” God, what was she saying? And why did it feel so right?
“Gladly.”
“I want to go home. As soon as possible.”
Fear flowed to her from the bond. Then she smiled. He relaxed instantly.
“Yeah, I just want to go for a visit, not move back there.”
He nodded. “After our fight, I did try to summon the veil. Not so you could permanently return to your own world but so you could pay your family a visit. It didn’t respond. However, once we bond, I see no reason why you two wouldn’t be allowed to go back, at least if you’re accompanied by a contingent of elves.”
“Contingent?”
His hands tightened upon hers. “The veil desires your presence here and will seek to ensure your return. If you are without an escort, you will not be granted travel through the veil.” Cal started to interrupt to inquire about Maggie, but he held up a hand. “We don’t know about Lady Maggie, but until we find otherwise, we suppose the stipulations would be the same for her.”
Again, he left something unsaid—not only would the veil likely deny them entrance, the elves themselves surely would until she agreed to the stipulated provisions. But she knew what was at stake, so she couldn’t really blame them.
As she leaned into him, he wrapped his arms about her. She rubbed her face against his shoulder, luxuriating in the sensation of being near him again. Her mind went on autopilot. Though she should still be furious, all she could think of was being close to him. The past slid away, and she didn’t try to stop it. Reality would intrude soon enough.
He feathered kisses over her forehead and cheeks. “Though I admit to not liking your words during our fight, they struck too close to home to be entirely false. That’s a failing I and my people have to deal with, not you.” Relian sighed, touching his forehead to hers. “But I want to make one thing clear. I don’t see you as a child. I would never treat a child the way I treat you. A courtship is between two consenting adults.”
“Yes, but is it truly something you want to do?” Cal asked, breaking out of her pleasant haze and noticing that some color had trickled back into his complexion. He might love her, but did he want to be with her?
He nodded decisively and drew her over to a bench. “Of course. I’ve never wanted anything more.”
“Really?” She had to make sure. He’d made her feel special so many times before, but what if it was all just a charade to make her compliant? She didn’t want to be a mission to him nor a burden.
He frowned. “During our courtship, have I not shown that I care for you? I realize our ways may be different, but the end intent in courtship should be the same. Don’t the men in your home country court those they favor above all others, with the resolve to deepen a possible relationship?”
“Well, yes. But you could court someone without really wanting to.”
His brows drew together as he turned toward her. “You think my regard for you is merely a pretense?”
“It didn’t feel like it. I know you love me. However, after everything that has happened, I have to ask.”
He sighed and took her nearest hand in his. “That’s a fair enough accusation. I will not lie. For a brief time, I did view it as a task that I might find unfavorable. I wanted you, but I also didn’t want to pursue someone I had no true knowledge of.”
“I can’t fault you for feeling that way. I fought the same feelings at the beginning, too.”
“Then you can love me without reservation?” he asked, clear hope in his tone.
She blinked. “I love you, but the ‘without reservation’ part isn’t there yet. If you give me no more cause to doubt you...”
“Understood.”
“Okay.” She smiled slowly.
“So you’ll let me court you again?”
“Yes.”
“Then I could do no less than the men back in your land.”
Cal almost sputtered. Oh yes, he could. If only he knew how much less he had tried than the guys she’d dated. Those boys had been primarily interested in one thing and flitted elsewhere when they didn’t get what they wanted.
His smile spread over his face like sunlight breaking free from the cloud cover. “Good, that’s enough.” He tangled his hands in her hair.
Cal reached up and pulled his head down. Until she could claim him, she’d spend the time in the most pleasurable way possible.
He laughed softly against her mouth. Pulling away, he cupped her face in his hands. “Now I have a question of my own.”
Her stomach dropped. The serious look in his eyes didn’t bode well if he asked what she thought he might.
“What did you mean when you said I had ruined your life?”
She swallowed past the lump in her throat as her mind grabbed at any reason for delay that she could feed him.
“You leveled a heavy charge, even though I realize you said it under the grip of anger. But I still sensed a truth to it—at least a truth you believe.”
Pulling out of his arms, Cal made to stand up. This conversation couldn’t happen. She wasn’t ready. His hands landed on her shoulders and stopped any attempt at escape.
She drew in a shaky breath. “I don’t know if I want to talk about this right now.”
“Will you ever be ready?”
The tender understanding in his voice caused tears to spring up in her eyes. “Probably not.”
He turned her around to face him. “Then it’s time.”
She rubbed her arms and stared at his chest, not meaning to speak. But it all vomited out like a noxious poison. “My parents believed me to have...issues. My classmates thought the same thing, too. I was always different, always had my head in the clouds. But when I was thirteen, I made the mistake of telling a so-called friend about my visions and dreams and of seeing your celebration in the clearing. By the end of the day, she’d spread the whole story around the school. The principal and my teacher got involved and called my parents.”
Her voice broke. “Do you know how mean kids can be? Heck, how mean even adults can be? Talking down to me as if I weren’t in my right mind? My parents only desired the best for me, but even they wanted me doped up on medication to control my ‘hallucinations.’”
When she finally looked up, she found no satisfaction in the pain that lined his face as she once might’ve. “Nobody believed me, so I started to deny it after a while. Still, I spent years in therapy, along with being on medications I didn’t want or need. Once you have that stigma attached to you, it’s very hard to shake it. For a few years, I almost convinced myself I’d merely imagined everything. It didn’t matter that I still suffered from the dreams and visions. I shrugged them off and tried to ignore them. But the damage was already done. People no longer looked at me the same way, not even my parents. We actually moved to another town so I could start afresh at a new school. That’s where I later met Maggie when she moved to my town our senior year. Things were much better there, practically normal. We graduated, went to college...” She faltered to a stop.
He finished her sentence, his voice subdued. “Where your dreams and visions became worse until the veil brought you here.”
“Yes, and now here I am.” She gestured around her. “In a supposed make-believe place that I was crazy for even imagining.”
His guarded gaze quickly concealed a flicker of worry. “You still hold resentment, and you should. The very existence of my world shaped your life. Your suffering—it saddens me. But I can’t change it, no matter how I wish otherwise.”
She sighed. Blaming him wouldn’t be right, though letting go of the past was no small thing. “I know, Relian. Believe me, that’s a conversation I’ve had with myself many times since coming here. I can’t blame you. I can’t even really blame the veil after what you’ve told me. Yes, my life wasn’t ideal, but neither my childhood nor teenage years were the horror story some people live with.” Her lips twitched. “I think I’ve turned out remarkably normal, considering everything. It’s the circumstances around me that are insanely weird.”
His hands slid down her arms. “Does that mean you can move on from the past without it defining your future?”
“That’s what I’m attempting to do. I won’t ever forget the past, but I no longer want to place blame.”
His arms went around her, anchoring her against him, and he rested his chin on her head. “That’s all I can ask.”
Telling him had lifted a weight she hadn’t realized had been so heavy. Too bad it’d been replaced with having the weight of two worlds supposedly on her shoulders. But it was also on his, so she wasn’t alone.