It wasn’t until after a few of those encounters that I started to notice a change in the way he interacted with me. His eyes would linger on my lips when I spoke, or sometimes they’d dart away from my ass when he thought I wasn’t looking. His touches on my back would remain longer than most would deem proper, and occasionally he’d be brazen enough to let his fingers skim over my rear.
It was a casual flirtation that I quickly picked up on, though one thatstilltook me by surprise. Relationships between Discerni and humans aren’t all that common, mostly because the majority of the mystical beings have a genuine lack of interest in our human lives. They’re never rude or unkind about it, just indifferent, and that’s most in part due to how our two races age.
For every one year of human life, the Discerni have roughly four. They outlive us greatly, living well into their late three-hundreds and through multiple generations of families, so it makes sense that there’d be a lack of interest in our race. Why be in a relationship with a human when you knew you’d outlive the great-grandchildren that came from it?
The sentiment is routed in thousands of years of tradition, but occasionally you do see the rare pairing. Desmond’s parents are proof of that.
So when Troy’s casual chats turned flirtatious, of course I was surprised, even more so by myself when I allowed his hand to linger just above my ass the next time we saw eachother. He understood my approval to his gesture and finally made his move, catching me one tipsy evening after a night at court and pulling me into a darkened hall. Since then, our run-ins have always been sporadic, with the two of us seeking each other out whenever we’re both in Bardot.
Troy wasn’t my first, though he certainly has been the most fun. I’ve been with a few human men in the years before him, but so far nothing has compared to the random encounters I’ve had with the Prince. Our sex is good, mostly because we’re always finding ourselves on the lookout or cutting our meetings quick from the thrill of being caught, and while I know our time will eventually come to an end, I see no problem with enjoying myself until then.
I hop onto the last step and glance up to the large, carved arch in the mountain just above. The arch opens up to a dimly lit tunnel that has the sun shining bright at the opposite end, the heavy smell of greenery and cinnamon greeting me as I step inside. My fingers skim against the rough stone until I finally reach the end of the tunnel, the sounds of the late morning hustle roaring around me as thousands of boots and carts pound against the cobblestone as I step into the Palisades.
The tall buildings at my front are vibrantly alive, the vendor storefronts well into their business and lining both sides of the path with various displays of produce and trinkets. The taverns ahead are bustling with life as well, the booming sound of their laughter and merriment carrying down the road as everyone celebrates the first day of spring. We’re not evenin the most populated area of the Palisades, nor is the day past the noon apex, but everyone in this little corner near the tunnel is as lively as they would be on the main road.
I smile and greet all the vendors in passing, knowing each by name after a steady ten years of taking the southern staircase up the mountain. Each of them promise to save my usual purchases for the end of the day when I head back down, and by the time I reach the end of the line, I have an ale in my hand as I hook a right around a large inn, finally stepping onto the main road and into the southern park.
The park is one of my favorite places to visit in this section of the Palisades, or rather, the café above the park is. The Discerni woman who owns it sells a variety of breakfast and lunch items and has the best assortment of teas and coffee that are imported from all over the Kingdom. It sits right in the middle of the wood-shrouded square and has a large veranda on the second floor that overlooks the ponds and trees below it. The place is absolutely beautiful… a good first stop that I always make after climbing the staircase.
I reach the cottage-like building and take the stairs up to the second floor, greeting the owner when I walk in. She’s standing in her typical Knowledge outfit of a long green dress and sparkling gold apron tied around her waist, the woman truly one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. She gives me a brief nod in hello just as her long, brown hair catches a breeze with the wind.
“Cinnamon bread with butter, red grapes and coffee?” she asks.
My brows lift in surprise.
Yes, I’ve been coming here for as long as I can remember, but I never expected the Discerni to remember my order.
“Yes, please,” I nod.
I send her a grateful smile and walk to an open table at the far edge of the veranda. The three ponds of the park are just below, so I sit contently and watch as a human boy launches a paper boat across one of them, his mother chatting not too far off with another woman.
“The boy comes twice a week with a toy boat fashioned out of paper,” the owner drops off my food with a small grimace, “I have half a mind to buy him a wooden boat the next time he visits the park. It’s grown tiresome to see the disappointment in his eyes.”
We both peer down at the pond together, watching as the water begins to soak into the paper boat. In a few moments, the toy will start sinking below the depths.
“I’ll leave some extra cinerin for that endeavor,” I sigh in agreement, “thank you for the food.”
The Discerni tucks her hair behind her leaf-shaped ears with a nod. “I’m surprised you haven’t noticed your friend at the other end of the veranda. He came in right after you did.”
I look at her in confusion and turn in my seat. Farther down the balcony is a blonde male around my age sitting in the corner by himself withhis hood drawn. It’s hard to make out his face, but I don’t think he’s anyone I know.
“Not with me,” I shake my head.
“My mistake,” she nods, “can I get you anything else?”
“No, this is perfect. Thank you again.”
The woman gives me a small smile and turns to walk away, her brown hair glowing in the sunlight as I call out to her retreating back.
“Wait…”
She remembered my order, and I’ve been here so many times that it’s only polite…
“I’ve never asked your name,” I smile shyly.
“Nor have I,” she replies, her beautiful Discerni features showing no emotion.
“I’m Alexis,” I offer.
