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She was good at hiding her feelings, but he was an elemental. He’d been taught to dissemble himself and read others since birth.
“The rest of us? It’s just you and me now, Guinevere,” he said.
“It might as well just be me.”
“And a lot of good you’re doing, glowering at the elementals,” Parys pressed. How much would it take, to get that composure to snap? Could he do it? Did he dare?
“I am giving them space. Respect. Elementals value social standing over everything, and I am not the Terrestrial Heir any longer.” She straightened her shoulders—useless, since they were already perfectly straight. “I am a Goldstone Guard.”
Parys rolled his eyes empathically. “You know so much about the elementals.”
Her gold eyes flashed. “I spent my entire life training to become their queen.”
“Not everything can be taught.”
“Says the male surrounded by books.”
Parys grinned. “You’d be surprised what a few drinks can do for an elemental. Terrestrials, too. While you’ve been glowering, I’ve been drinking. And talking.”
Talking—and more. Guinevere’s nostrils flared slightly. He could tell she was torn between wanting to know and wanting to bash his head in.
“And?” It pained her to have to ask. Parys did her the courtesy of not showing just how much he savored it.
“The elementals and terrestrials barely know each other’s names. They sit at separate dining tables, drink in different taverns in Baylaur, live in separate wings of the goldstone palace.” He knew none of this was new information to Guinevere. But he enjoyed drawing it out. It always got the best reaction.
He took a sip of his wine, before continuing. “They have noreasonto know each other.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and leveled him with a look so withering, it was almost physical. “You have something in mind.”
“I think we need to give them a reason,” Parys said, smiling. He leaned over and rifled through the stack of papers behind the stack of books. Maybe he had too many stacks.
He found what he was looking for before Guinevere started growling again.
“I’ve been working on something. I still have a few particulars to work out—don’t need anyone dying unnecessarily.”
She took the paper, eyes darting back and forth across the page. Parys watched her carefully, trying to judge her reaction. Her eyes were unreadable. But the tension around her mouth eased, slightly.
She handed the paper back to him without preamble. “A few deaths would make it even more interesting.”
“Now you’re starting to think like an elemental,” he winked.
“In that, at least, our two races are the same.” She sighed. It was so slight it could have been mistaken for a deep breath. But Parys caught it—and felt damn proud of himself for it, too.
He rewarded himself with another drink of wine.
When he looked up, the aisle was empty.
No farewell. Not even a nod of her head.
Parys rolled his eyes, even though there was no one to see. He’d find a new hiding place in the library tomorrow. There was a staircase along the northern edge that led to private reading rooms. She’d find him eventually, but it might buy him an extra few minutes.
He drained the remnants of the wine glass as he flipped open the book he’d been reading before. It took a few minutes of turning, but he found the page where he’d left off…
The sacred trinity disappeared from Avalon long ago. Legends abound regarding the provenance of the ancient items, said to imbue their master with unmatched magical power. However, many believe that each item bears individual magic in its own right…
35
VEYKA
