Chapter 18 #2
Had he said the word to himself or was this part of the ruse we maintained to stay undetected?
“Your bride certainly is radiant,” Tabitha said as she spun me around to face Elden.
My stomach dropped as Elden smiled in the disarming way only he knew.
I blinked, caught off guard by the open look and the way his golden eyes sparkled.
He entered the room wearing a fitted suit of threaded gold on russet brown.
Not too fine, but he could wear a flour sack and make it look regal.
His suit was the perfect complement to my satin green dress.
How was he so good at faking this doting husband bit?
I smiled back, struggling to meet his eyes. I was not used to this kind of attention—true attention—from anyone, not to mention this was the Elf King, and I better not forget it.
He may not have taken a maid every year for hundreds of years, but his father had. I would not lose my heart to this male—no matter that he looked incredibly handsome and regal in his suit with his black hair falling down his back.
I swallowed down my nerves and stood. Elden’s eyes searched me from the tips of my toes to the top of my head, lingering a bit too long on my lips. I flushed.
“Thank you.” Elden bowed to Tabitha. He bowed, actually bowed to her. The Elf King.
Tabitha stammered, then blinked, rubbing her pregnant belly. “Y-yes, of course. Come child, you mustn’t be late to the celebration. Todd, Terrine and I will meet you a bit later. We still have some finishing up to do around here.”
Elden took my arm and placed his hand above mine. His warmth seeped into my whole being as my traitorous heart soared on a high wind. Do not be overcome. Might as well tell yeast not to rise in a warm oven.
We strode through the inn and out into the cool autumn night.
Magnificent trees surrounded us on all sides as we strode through the street toward the center of town.
All the shops were closed, but we did encounter kind villagers offering glad greetings on the way, everyone dressed in their best attire.
Bright reds and pops of gold and green. All hues of dark gemstones.
Despite my formal attire, I still kept my leather satchel around my shoulders with Jel’s potion, my lucky spoon, and cookbook close to me at all times. The weight of it grounded me, reminding me of who I was, and why I was here.
“I learned how to make those salted caramels,” I said.
“Did you?” Elden mused. “And how did they turn out?”
I rummaged in my sac, pulling out a couple of wrapped treasures. I always kept a treat or two in my sack. You never knew when the need was going to hit out of nowhere. “I guess you should check them, just in case they have magic.”
Elden took a caramel and popped it into his mouth. He chewed and closed his eyes.
“Well?” Were they good? Was there any magic in it? I held onto the crook of his arm expectantly. Please have magic.
“It is delicious, as always.” Elden looked down into my expectant face, “But I do not feel any magic.”
My shoulders slumped, and I heaved out a disappointed breath. “How do I do it? What did I do wrong?”
“Perhaps it didn’t work because you labored with someone else?” Elden offered.
“Maybe.” I bit my lip deep in thought. “Can you tell me about each of the times you tasted my baking magic? I’ll consider what I did differently.”
Science, collecting evidence and weeding out outliers was always a good start. Elden pursed his lips as we approached the bustling crowd of festive elves. Jaunty music drifted along through the breeze. A general sense of excitement tinged the air like a zest of lemon in a tart.
“I have already told you about the first time I felt your magic in your human bakery. When I felt that hope.” Elden nodded.
“Have you felt it any time since?” I asked, careful not to look too closely at the pleasant curve of his long nose.
But a sly smile crossed Elden’s face as if recalling a particularly good memory. “The night of our dinner.”
His molten eyes met mine and heat rose in my cheeks.
“That night?” I raised my eyebrows. That night had ended in a fight, I’d stormed out and fled into the dark gardens beyond the palace, then I’d been bitten by that shade monster. Elden’s father, if it all was to be believed.
“You were—” I started.
“I was—” Elden said.
“No, please go ahead.” I offered.
“Horrible.” Elden’s smile fell. “I was terrible to you that night because I had taken you from your family and was worried that perhaps I had been wrong.”
“Wrong about my magic?” Worry squirmed down my stomach.
But Elden shook his head. “No, there is no denying the magic, but I was wrong in the way I was treating you.”
I tilted my head and smiled. “true.”
“And it takes me some time to come to terms with my own ineptitude.” Elden glanced down at me through his black lashes, his golden eyes shining brighter than any glowing gemstone lining the streets.
I cleared my throat. “So, you are not used to being wrong very often?”
Elden smiled. “I am very used to being wrong, it is when I am called to answer for it that I let my pride have a try first.”
I softened, “I’m the same in some ways. When my mother gets something in her head, I will fight it just for the sake of proving her wrong.”
Like the time Mother insisted I take her thicker coat to school because of an unseasonably mighty downpour, but I refused.
No one else wore their mother’s coats, especially ones with bright orange cuffs, and I was embarrassed.
I hated to stand out. So I wore my thinner coat in the rain.
That night I was sicker than I’d ever been.
I missed school for a week while I recovered.
Mother never said it, but I knew she’d quietly been thinking, “I told you so”.
Elden chuckled. “We are a funny pair.”
This moment, this tension. I didn’t like it. It felt as if one step could have me falling in love and losing my heart to this elf, this enemy who stole me away from my family. No. He was the reason I couldn’t see that smug look of “I told you so” on my mother’s face and strangely, I missed it.
“So,” I said eager to stay on a task. “When did you feel the magic?”
“After you left and ran out into the night. After Serrina and Aldaar scolded me, of course.” Elden shook his head with a tender smile and squeezed my arm into his side. “I wished to drown my sorrows.”
Aldaar scolding him, that I could see. But Serrina? I had no idea the female would ever rise to my aid.
“Drown your sorrows?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Not in wine. That is for the unoriginal.” Elden nodded. “So, I reached for your tart. I was eager to prove to you, but more to myself, that you were a fraud. That the hope I had felt, that magic, was not what I thought it was.”
“And then?” I breathed.
“And then your magic hit me with that first bite.” Elden and I approached the entrance to a great open square surrounded by a circle of trees that soared into the dark night above. Song and laughter floated on the cool breeze.
My mincemeat tarts had been magic and I’d baked them with Aldaar’s help. No, having help did not affect my magic. So, if baking with someone else did not affect it, what did? I’d need to ask more questions. Try more experiments.
Fireflies danced about; gemstones shone in glittering flashes.
“Peace,” Elden said into the glittering night. “I felt it warm my heart with a kind of fire. A jolt. I ran out to you then. I had to find you to tell you I was wrong. I wished to beg for your forgiveness at my complete lack of kindness and that was when I heard you scream.”
My blood chilled. My legs ached with a sharp stabbing. I stumbled, then withdrew Jel’s potion from my satchel and took a quick sip.
“Oh, Little Baker.” Elden frowned. “What did I tell you about taking more than your dose of one sip a day?”
I swallowed down the potion with a small hiccup. Oops. “Unexpected things?”
“Unexpected indeed.” Elden raised a thick black eyebrow. “Please do not sample the wines tonight, for I think you will feel quite free enough on your own.”
A squirm of fear swirled down into my stomach. Oh no. What have I done?