Page 19 of Prince of the Sun

I hold my breath, waiting for the prince to snap.

Instead, after several long, torturous beats of silence, his mouth curves into a slow grin.

“President of the entire universe?” he asks, turning to face me more fully. He props an elbow up on the table, laying his chin in his hand. “I wasn’t aware that was an option. Where do I apply?”

Relief, warm and forgiving, floods my chest. And even though I know I should just leave it there, even though I know I’ve tempted fate enough times at this lunch table to last a lifetime, I can’t help it.

I take the bait.

“Don’t bother,” I say. “The only organizationyoucould be president of would be the Ministry of Corruption and Bankruptcy.”

He feigns a gasp. “How did you know? I’ve already applied there for a summer internship.”

“Excellent. I’m sure you’ll move up the ranks in no time.”

“With my undeniable charm and devastating good looks, how could I not?”

“How indeed.” My heart is pounding with barely leashed fear, but I can’t seem to stop. “I’m sure bribery and blackmail will have nothing to do with it.”

“Of course not. We elves are morally unimpeachable.”

“Oh, lê ba dualeth,” I say in Lukkarin.Oh, I’m well aware.

“Att nå kilaren.”And don’t you forget it.

Daerios winks, and that full, infuriating mouth curls into another half-smile. My gaze drops, lingering on its pillowy pink fullness, on the barest hint of stubble curving over and around it. Something sharp and almost painful throbs in my stomach.

It all happens in the space of a half-second, but it’s half a second too long.

My eyes shoot back up just in time to see Daerios’s expression change. To watch his expression turn from playful to confused, his eyes darting rapidly between mine.

Cheeks burning, I cross my arms over my chest, wiping anytrace of discomfort from my face. “You know,Your Highness, you’re kind of an asshole.”

For a split second, Daerios’s eyes continue search mine. Then he shrugs and looks away, popping the rest of the paal into his mouth. “I’ve been called worse.”

I look away, too. “I don’t doubt it.”

Then come several long, painfully heavy seconds during which no one at the table speaks or even seems to breathe.

“You know, Cara,” says Berendir at last, failing utterly to keep the elation from his voice. “If someone doesn’t stop these two, Harvard might see its very first elvish homicide.”

“You know, Berendir,” says Cara, grinning for the first time since the elves sat down. “I think you might be right.”

On Thursdays, I have no classes or lectures, which means I usually spend the day holed up in the stacks of Widener Library, catching up on any work I’ve neglected from my late-night spying missions. Between that and the hours I spent studying the elves yesterday, I’m at risk of falling behind on myrealhomework.

But when I get to the front desk, I find myself asking the librarian for directions not to the Linguistics section, but to any books they have on the history of Elaërion.

I’m acting on a hunch. The way Daerios and Berendir looked at each other after I referred to their home realm, the conversation that passed between their eyes… There was an undertone to it that I couldn’t pin down. But it was more than just the regular awkwardness of a human committing a social faux pas. Of that, I’m certain.

It made me want to dig. Into Elaërion, specifically.

The section to which the librarian sends me is on the bottom floor of the stacks, eight floors underground, tucked away in a dusty back corner. The sort of place you’re likely to find studentshaving sneaky, closed-mouth sex—an age-old Harvard tradition that I’ve never partaken in. The books’ location feels intentional, as if the human librarians are trying to protect the identities of their authors. To keep the elves from seeing exactly which humans are studying them.

It’s a wasted effort. The elves see all.

The books’ spines are pristine, albeit coated in a thin layer of dust. I choose three:Everything We Know About Elaërion: The Collected Works;They Came From Above: A History of the Crossing;and, on a whim,Bow and Heart, a children’s book on the history of Elemental Wars. I take them up twelve flights of stairs—ignoring the elevator, lest I meet an elf on board—to my usual carrel in the above-ground stacks.

I settle in and flip open the first text. It’s a bound collection of all the references that the authors could find to Elaërion in verifiably elf-written publications, as of its issue date on November 6th, 2008. Most of the book is written in English, but the authors included side-by-side translations of all of the source material from Maevish and Lukkarin. I skim over most of the English, preferring to read straight from the originals.