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I bit my tongue and didn’t protest despite my gut reaction to argue for my guilt. “How do you get enough sleep, then?”
“I don’t.” She opened the book. “Could you teach me Elvish?”
“Kate.” I let some of my concern leak into my tone.
She didn’t look up from peering at the page in the dim glow of the fairy orbs. “How do you read in this light?”
“Kate, what does the lack of sleep do to your condition?” I made a half-hearted grab for the book.
“Makes it worse.” She spun around, whipping the book out of my reach. “Could you teach me Elvish? It looks fascinating.”
I considered the back of her with a strange mixture of emotions. Frustration that she wasn’t taking care of herself, anger at her brother’s carelessness with her health, and a strange amusement at her attempt to keep my book from me. “I am told Elvish is complex compared to human languages.”
“Why is that?” She half turned toward me, chin raised, eyebrows arched, and an enticing light in her eyes. I had a sudden foolish urge to kiss her.
“We had more time to develop exceptions to every grammar rule. I wish to return to the topic at hand. When are you going to tell your brother?”
She shrugged. “When the need arises, I will inform him. He has so many new responsibilities. I don’t want to add to them.”
“And in the meantime?”
She shrugged. “I will survive.”
Unease tightened my gut. “And if you don’t?”
She lifted her face to study mine. “Don’t worry. I have survived worse.”
Her words were probably meant to be a comfort, but they had the exact opposite effect on me.
Chapter Five
Kate
Emrys stood there looking so intensely displeased I almost wanted to poke him just to get a different reaction. He clearly thought I was being careless with my health. What he didn’t understand was that I refused to let my strange illness rule my life any more than it already did.
The elven book in my hands was a work of art: gilded pages, elegant script, smooth expanses of perfectly white paper. I stroked the page in envy. The only missing piece of a completely pleasurable experience was the ability to read the swirls and swoops on the pages. Instead, I settled for admiring the illustrations.
“Kate, you have to tell your brother.”
I rolled my eyes. Emrys had a one-track mind. “And then what? He can’t stop it.”
“Will he try?”
“He would.”
“So far I have had no one banging on my gates demanding their daughters back.”
“And they know where they go every night?” I asked.
His frown deepened. “Most do. I sent word to the toddler’s father and the twins’ mother. Nurseries are watched every night, and I saw no reason to cause them unnecessary panic.”
“And the others?”
“I left it to their discernment. I believe most of them spoke to someone.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Well, all except Marilla. She refuses.”
“Because of her age?” I guessed.
“Because she is a stubborn woman, bound and determined not to be hindered by her age.” His striking eyes widened and then narrowed as he glared at me. “You two are far too alike for my comfort.”
