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He raised an eyebrow at me. “I’ll look forward to it,” he said, his voice low and husky. “But there’s a reason behind it.”
I lifted my eyebrow. “Oh?”
He leaned forward, his eyes still intent on mine. “When we still were seafaring people, many of us died in shipwrecks. The ones who survived were the ones who could hold their breath the longest. And the way to do that was to have a suitable set of lungs.”
He gestured to his chest. The muscles there were well-defined and there was no sign of fat. “So we bared our chest to the sun and let it strengthen our lungs.”
“So, you’re saying that Elves are born to swim?”
“Yes,” he said. “And as a result, we’re very comfortable with our bodies.”
I was silent for a moment, thinking about everything he had told me. Then I whispered, “I’m sorry if I offended you. I didn’t know the meaning behind it.”
An enigmatic smile appeared on his face. “The ear cuffs or the bare chests?”
“Both,” I admitted. “But mostly the bare chests.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, as he leaned forward. “But thank you for apologizing.” He smiled. “It’s also why we have such a fascination with the sea. Many of our people still long for the days when we would sail across the world.” He sighed, his eyes distant. “But that’s all in the past now. We don’t need ships anymore.”
“Why not?”
He turned to me, his expression serious. “Because now we have our magic. And with magic, we can go anywhere we want.”
Did he imply they didn’t always have magic? But magic had always been here. The world couldn’t exist without it.
I frowned. “But you still have ships.”
“Yes.” He sighed. “But they’re only used for trade now. We don’t need them for transportation anymore.”
“I can’t even imagine what it would be like to go anywhere I wanted.”
All that power was in their hands and they lived here. Secluded from the rest of the world. Not willing to share their magic.
“There’s a price to pay for all that power,” he said, his voice hard. “Cooperation and balance. That’s what keeps us safe.”
And now we finally got the truth of all of this.
He wanted to use my position as a princess and as a young blood to support his causes. But why? What could he possibly want, that he couldn’t just ask for?
I cocked my head. “What do you mean?”
“There’s a lot of responsibility that comes with magic. And with power.”
Power was always dangerous. We could use it for good or evil.
“But you’re responsible?” I asked, searching his face. “You wouldn’t use your magic to hurt people.”
He was silent for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “No.” His face turned stony. “I would never use my magic to hurt someone. Unless it was necessary.”
A shiver ran down my spine. There was something in his voice that made me believe him. The visions I had heard of him, using his magic to kill people, flashed through my mind.
“What about the people of Manzimor?” I asked quietly. “Would you kill a threat to House Finardsil?”
He met my gaze, his expression serious. “Yes,” he said. “If it was necessary to protect House Finardsil, to protect our people, I would kill.”
I swallowed hard, my stomach churning. I knew he was capable of violence. But hearing him say it so matter-of-factly made it all too real.
Who did he consider his people?
