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My mind snapped back to my plan, but other thoughts infiltrated. Why didn’t Carmichael want to speak to me? I have thought about him every day for weeks, and he wants nothing to do with me.
I think back to the look in his eyes the night we made love. The predatory stance he had taken seemed to wane away. I know there was something more in that moment. Even a flicker of a feeling.
Elves pride themselves on power. Even if he did feel something, he wouldn’t tell me. I come to the conclusion that war and demands do no good here, so emotions are all I have to use against him.
I rub my head with my hand. It’s beginning to throb above my right eye. Headaches like this only hit me after I’ve gone swimming in my hometown lake. Swimmer’s head, they called it. I close my eyes, hoping lack of light will aid in my recovery.
As I begin mentally scanning my body, I notice my muscles feel like lead. It’s as if my being has been tied onto iron blocks and strapped to this bed. Even moving my leg an inch feels like a chore.
Maybe my body was adjusting to the free time. With work, my muscles were exercised each day. I was mentally stimulated during the day, every day.
I think back to my daily routine at Eris house. Wake up, care for my mother, feed my brother, go to work. Come home, wash up, feed them dinner, and spend time with them on the edge of mother’s bed.
“My lady?’ I hear the butler say as he knocks on the door.
“Yes?” I ask, bundling myself up in the sheets. I leave only my face visible. The last thing I need is for the butler to see me naked.
He enters slowly. “Oh!” He says, turning around. “My lady! I am so sorry I didn’t know you were resting.”
“No! No, it’s alright,” I say. “What is it? Is Carmichael available?” I say, trying to stifle my fluttering heart. Thinking of even seeing him made me swoon.
“Unfortunately not at this time,” The butler says, avoiding staring at me. What a polite man. Why couldn’t all elves be more like this?
“I will be sure to let you know the second he calls for you,” He says kindly. “In the meantime, I was wondering if you had found any new books you would like to go over with me?”
I hold back a smile. His kindness and generosity made captivity seem less damning.
“You choose this time,” I say excitedly. I see a smile cross his face.
“Of course, my lady, rest well.” He says before closing the door gently.
I roll over and groan at the pain in my limbs. I wondered if this is how mother felt every day. How awful it must be to never stand up firmly, to have each muscle in your body feel like a dull shooting pain.
I find myself coming in and out of consciousness throughout the day. My waking moments are filled with thoughts of money, my family, and Carmichael’s disdain for me. My restful state still holds no dreams. How freeing it would be to escape, even for a moment, into a new world.
I rub my eyes and stare out the window. It’s dark now, and even colder than before. I turn to my side and find a platter of food on my nightstand along with a note. My heart jumps. Maybe this is Carmichael saying he’s ready to speak with me.
“Dinner is served, my lady.”
I groan and roll back over. My stomach is still cramping heavily, but I know I have to eat. I reach over for one of the delicacies and chew away, staring at the ceiling. I taste sweetness and saltiness on the pastry, and close my eyes in appreciation. I could have never had something like this at home.
I reach over and grab more food, stuffing my face until I feel like I need to vomit. Rubbing my full stomach, I lay on my back and stare once more out of the window. I wonder what else is out there beyond these walls. What the city looks like, smells like, sounds like.
My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of someone passing by my door. I listen intently for loud, paced out steps. Instead, I hear a quickened, light pace. Still no Carmichael.
My stomach cramps again, lighter than before but still excruciating. I roll over and a tear sneaks down my face. Whether from mental or physical anguish, it is enough to tell me I am not well. I try to calm my mind, praying whatever this is will pass by morning.
16
CARMICHAEL
She makes me breathless. And that is my largest problem now.
I had my regular assembly with the King an hour ago, and I know he must have noticed that I was not paying attention to anything he said. But His Highness rarely says anything of substance, so I am quite sure that I did not miss much.
All I can think of, all I dream of, the thing that consumes me every second of every day, is Diane. She is my mate. I am surer of this than I am of my own name!
But to mate with a human, to be with a human, would be akin to blasphemy. Any hope I might have of becoming King, something I have worked all my life for, would fade far into the distance very quickly.
