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“They gave me the money for the ransom. As a gift.”
“All the money?” I ask him, and my voice is low with shock as I think about the high number that I asked for in my ransom letter.
I look around the bathing room to remind myself that the Thuvrol’s are wealthy.
They are noble elves after all, with connections to the crown.
But still, I did not think that they would just hand over the ransom money.
When I pictured my future with Denve – if that is what he wanted – I pictured us struggling for a few years before we got on our feet.
“Why did they do that?” I ask him, because I really have to know.
“They want me to start my life now. I am twenty-six years old and I have spent most of my adult life drinking and partying. I think they’re kicking me out of the proverbial nest. They’re helping me and also forcing me to start my own life.”
“That is amazing,” I tell him. “I’m so happy for you.”
Then something crosses my mind – something that Denve said earlier.
“What did you mean when you said your parents wanted you to make an honest woman out of me?”
He does not answer me directly.
“Aside from the money, I received something else,” he says. He leans over the rim of the bath for his trousers, and then pulls out a velvet box.
He opens it carefully. Inside, nestled in the velvet, is the most beautiful ring I have ever seen.
“It is a family heirloom. And when they said I should make an honest woman out of you.” Denve pauses as he takes my hand in his. He dries it off with a nearby towel and then slips the ring onto my finger.
“They meant that I should ask you to be my mate,” he says quietly. I do not miss the anxiety on his face when he looks at me.
He still doubts my feelings for him. We really cannot have that.
“And that is what I have been wanting to do since I knew that I love you. And I am hoping you want the same thing from me.”
I pull my hands away from his and examine the ring on my finger. It is beautiful and sparkles in the candlelight.
“The ring has been in my family for generations,” he says, almost conversationally as if to fill the silence.
He’s anxious about what I’m going to say. He is trying to fill the silence.
“I think it was made for my great-great grandmother.”
“Of course I’ll be your mate.” I interrupt him before he can give me a history lesson about his family’s bloodline.
I have come to know him well. And Denve talks when he is anxious. He talks a lot.
“Of course I’ll be your mate,” I tell him again.
He moves so quickly that I almost do not see him coming. He scoops me up into his arms, and plants big, wet kisses all over my face.
I laugh out loud, not caring who can hear us as our lips finally meet.
“I love you so much,” he tells me. I stroke his wet head, doing my best to keep the ring dry.
“I love you too, Denve,” I tell him. “And I want to tell you that I love you every day for the rest of our lives.”
I kiss him again and again, before we settle down in the bath and just lay there.
