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“I am. Isabella, it means a lot to me—to have you still look in on me.”
Isabella nodded and her eyes softened. “I am going to be straight forward, like I always did when we lived in the other realm.”
“Please do.” Aironell breathed out.
“Alzerion, well, he’s a very good man. He is quite caring, protective, and well, handsome.”
Aironell felt a bit flushed as she cleared her throat.
“You don’t have to try and hide it from me. I can see it plastered across your face.”
“I won’t deny it. You know me well.” Aironell pulled a small piece of hair. She combed her fingers through the curl. “I must seem ridiculous, huh?”
Isabella straightened her back. “Why would you think that?”
This time Aironell kept her gaze down. She focused on the piece of hair that she was working on. “I’m sure I sound foolish. I barely know him, but he-he captivates me.”
Isabella grabbed her hand and Aironell squeezed. “You’re not ridiculous. Some people form attachments quicker than others.” She placed her hand under Aironell’s chin and gently nudged her face up. “That doesn’t make your feelings any less sincere.”
Aironell nodded. Isabella always made her feel lighter. “Thank you, Isabella.”
“Of course.” Isabella stood up and strolled next to her and clasped Aironell’s shoulder. “You are your father’s daughter after all.”
Then she started to walk away.
“Wait,” Aironell called as she stumbled to her feet and crossed in front of Isabella. “What does that mean?”
There was this overwhelming desire to understand. It bubbled to the surface like hot water rising.
Isabella grasped Aironell by the shoulder and escorted the two of them to the edge of the bed. Aironell sat as Isabella shifted.
“Comfortable?” Aironell asked.
Isabella straightened her back as she bounced a bit. Aironell chuckled.
“Sorry,” Isabella rocked back and forth. “Now, where were we?”
“How am I my father’s daughter?” She hunched forward resting her chin on her hands, with elbows pressing into her thighs.
“Did you know your father was quite the swordsman?”
Aironell’s brow furrowed. “My, father? He was a swords scholar?”
Isabella nodded as she stood up and started fixing the pillows of the bed.
Wow. It was hard to picture that. Her father wielding a sword. It was cool but that didn’t make her like him.
“Aironell? Are you in there?”
“Sorry. Please continue.”
“Your father would enter these tournaments with his buddies and—”
“What kind of tournaments?” Aironell sat up and let her leg hang off the bed.
“Well, there were different kinds, jousting, swordsman challenges and the like. Honestly, any excuse for nobles and the royals to gather and display their prowess. That’s what I’ve been told.”
Aironell scratched at her head. “Isabella, we don’t still have those, do we?”
