AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Isael nodded thoughtfully. "Human men would have no need to change you to suit their purposes."
"But you did," she said, now back to staring at herself in the mirror. "You turned me into an elf."
Her alarm was steadily giving way to wonderment. Now that she understood what had happened, she could appreciate the beauty of her altered form. She'd always had a fondness for the elven form, even after Isael's initial rejection of her.
The same elven lord who'd once turned his back on her was now staring at her with the appreciation of a man regarding a fine work of art.
"I'm sorry," he said, though he sounded not the least bit repentant. "Such a change should not have been forced upon you."
Cera wasn't ready to tell him that she didn't mind. Her emotions were still too mixed and she would need time to make sense of them all. And it would be particularly difficult, given that she now had the attention span of a gnat.
"Everything keeps moving," she told him. "Threads of fabric, the wood of the headboard, and earlier I thought the dragon on your robes might come to life."
Isael nodded, as if she'd said something perfectly rational. "That's your elven perception and, perhaps, the beginnings of illusory magic. For me, it began when I was a child. I could make figures step out of tapestries or turn dark carpets into deep waters. At first, you'll be the only one that can see the illusions, but with time and practice, you'll be able to project them into the consciousness of others."
"Great gods," she murmured. "I'll be able to do magic? Everything that you can?"
He shrugged, the gesture appearing unnatural on his otherwise dignified bearing. "Only time will tell. For now, it is best you try not to focus on it."
His instruction sounded reasonable, up until the point when he helped her from the bed. Once her eyes again adjusted to the light, she was assaulted by the wide array of colors and patterns all around her. She kept a tight grip on Isael's sleeve and allowed him to lead her forward.
She didn't realize they'd exited the room until they were accosted by another elf. It was Maewyn, dressed in purple robes that were embroidered with gemstones that looked like clusters of berries. Seeing them made Cera's stomach rumble.
Maewyn muttered an elven curse as she saw Cera, earning a reprimand from Isael. The pair exchanged a flurry of words that should have been too quick for Cera to make sense of. But each word came to her clearly, as if they were speaking her native Ateran.
“She is so conspicuous! This is not good, mir aesolin."
"She was always going to be conspicuous," he said dismissively. "And I only gave her my blood, I had no control over how it would affect her."
"She will draw attention wherever she goes. What if the councillors see her like this?"
Her question made Isael's eyes narrow, his expression shifting from mild amusement to agitation in an instant. Maewyn took a step back, holding her hands up as if to block an incoming strike.
"If you feel that you're ill-suited to the task of chaperoning her, I can find another," he said.
Maewyn hung her head. "Of course not, mir aesolin."
There was a prolonged silence. Cera was still focused on the gemstones on Maewyn's robes. By now, they had lost their sharp edges and had rounded, looking rather plump. She was certain that if she reached out, she could pluck one from the robe and eat it.
"Good," Isael said, now speaking Ateran. "Now take her to be dressed and then bring her to the gardens to dine with me. She could use some time in nature."
The Change
Cera watched as the bee moved from one flower to the next, collecting orange balls of pollen on its hind legs. Its wings moved so fast as to be imperceptible, or at least they should have been. Cera could see each flick, accompanied by a tiny pulsing of the air around it. The bee hummed as it worked, the soft sound joining the chorus of its neighbors, all hard at work as they moved about the surrounding flowers.
"Are these real bees?" Cera asked the high lord of the elves.
"They are," he replied, and his voice made her think of a finely tuned instrument, each sound perfect in its execution.
"I am terrified of bees," she said as she leaned in closer to examine the bee. "Well, I was. I always thought they were out to sting me, but now I see that they just want to gather pollen. They don't even care about me. I bet I could touch one."
The flowers around the bees began to pulse, changing from blue to yellow, and then to blue once more. She looked back toward Isael to see if he saw what was happening, but she was then absorbed by the sight of him.
Seeing him sitting at the table, his beautiful eyes gazing at her with rapt interest, Cera wondered how she'd ever allowed herself to become distracted by the bees. She moved toward him without thinking, as if the wind itself were pushing her in his direction.
Perhaps it was.
She took the seat nearest to him, and even the arm's length between them felt much too far. In the time it had taken for her to be bathed, dressed, and escorted down to the gardens, Cera had missed him. It was such a small, simple thing to miss someone, and yet it also marked a profound change. Last night, she had dreaded his arrival and felt relief at his departure. Now, the nearer she was to him, the clearer and more centered she felt.
