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“I don’t think you are a monster,” she protested quietly.
“You did at first,” I pointed out.
“For barely a moment. Initial impressions are frequently wrong.”
I acknowledged the truth with a slight nod. “I am running out of time.”
As an elf, my lifespan wasn’t the issue, but the humans weren’t so fortunate. Over a year had already passed. In elf years, a year was a moment, but in human years it was an eternity, one-eightieth of their lifespan. Or, if they were blessed like Marilla, closer to one-ninetieth of their lifetime.
Since spending so much time with humans, I had discovered they weighed their young years heavily. And those were the years being stolen. How long before the twin terrors no longer recalled a good night’s sleep? And the toddler, would she never know what it was like to sleep through the night?
Then I recalled the princesses infatuated with my captain of the guard. Time lost to unrequited affection would be a bitter memory for them. I hesitated to call their feelings love because they had no way of truly knowing the object of their obsession. To love in a romantic way, one must first be friends. If they had taken the time to learn about him, they would discover my captain’s heart was already claimed by his wife.
“You worry about us.” Her words snapped me out of my thoughts.
“I do. I should. You are all my guests. What host wouldn’t concern himself with his guests’ needs?”
“I wasn’t attacking, only making an observation.” She swung her feet down to rest on the grass and moved her bowl to the tray. I was pleased that she had scraped it clean. “You are right that any suitable host would be concerned with the wellbeing of his guests. I am saying you worry more than that.”
I smothered a bitter laugh. “My apologies for my defensiveness. My advisors argue I shouldn’t even be attending to the princesses. They call the princesses a distraction, a nuisance, and, in the case of the twins, terrors.”
“I guess that last one was earned.”
“Tonight, they ruined the milk and the cream, setting the kitchen staff into a tizzy.”
She laughed softly at that. “You are an excellent host, Emrys.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” I flicked a spell, initiating a bit of folded space where I carried my essentials. Avoiding my swords, I pulled forth my secret guilty pleasure.
“A book?” She grinned up at me. “You carry a book with you to a party?”
“What host does that?”
“I wish I could!” She laughed. “If I did, my brother would be devastated and then bemoan my prospects at ever catching a husband or even surviving in my new role. What are you reading?” She bounced to her feet. “May I see?”
Bemused at her reaction, I offered her the book.
“Oh, it is in Elvish.” She frowned. Her disappointment was almost palpable as she caressed the leather binding. “What is it about?”
“Spell theory.”
“In truth?”
“I have little time for reading during the daylight, and I have to be available at night.”
“Watching over your guests.” She nodded before narrowing her eyes at me. “When do you sleep?”
I shrugged. “Elves don’t need as much sleep as humans, and shadow elves even less.”
“But surely you need some,” she protested.
“I sleep for a few hours after you all leave.” I smirked slightly. “This curse has turned me into a late sleeper. Shameful behavior in a king.” Considering her carefully, I asked, “When do you sleep?”
She hesitated, fingertips tracing the whirls and swoops worked into the leather of the book cover. “Not enough. My brother doesn’t know about these nightly—”
“Abductions?” I suggested.
“Adventures.” She frowned up at me. “You are not responsible for the curse.”
