“Don’t be alarmed by the magic,” Queen Nestraya says. “I will say the words in Nunian. Then Elowyn will say them in Elvish for you to repeat, Prince Rominy.”
Rominy nods as his stomach churns.
“My heart is for you. There is no other.”
Elowyn translates, and Rominy does his best not to mangle the words. A tingling sensation forms where their palms touch.
“My soul is a well unto yours. May you find refreshment in me.”
As Elowyn says the words in Elvish, she gazes into his eyes, and he almost forgets to breathe. Tendrils of light wrap around their joined hands when he repeats the Elvish words.
“My light will fill your darkness, and when my light wanes, yours will guide me.”
The tendrils of magic expand from their hands along their arms as Rominy pushes back his panic and says the words.
“My heart to yours. Your soul to mine. Our bodies as one until the beating of our hearts fades.”
Rominy stumbles a little over the words, but King Lorial encourages him with a quiet prompting.
The magical light has reached their chests, where it burns against Rominy’s skin beneath his shirt and waistcoat. Elowyn’s fingers dig into the back of his hands, and he struggles not to crush her palms within his own.
“From this moment on, our two hearts beat as one. I bind myself to you until my end of days.”
When Rominy finishes grunting out the words, the pain and the heat and the room around them all fade away. He opens his eyes to find himself standing on the deck of a small sailing vessel.
A gentle, briny breeze plays with his hair and whips at the simple white shirt he wears. It’s open in a V over his upper chest, and the sleeves are rolled up to expose his forearms. His trousers have been cut off just past the knee, and the threads of a ragged set of hems tickle his legs.
He whips around. “Where are we?”
“Is this the sea? I’ve never seen the sea.” Elowyn is dressed in an all-white, sleeveless gown that drapes gracefully across her slender frame. The asymmetrical hem hits at mid-calf across one leg and above the knee on her other leg. Her feet are bare, and her silver hair dances in the wind, revealing the tips of her pointed ears.
Rominy almost loses his balance, but he clutches at a nearby rope to steady himself. If Mother thought the other elven attire was indecent, she’d be completely scandalized by Elowyn’s appearance now. He should probably look away from her, but he can’t.
She’s gorgeous. Absolutely breathtaking.
And somehow, they’re now on a boat in the middle of the sea.
Alone.
“Elowyn,” he says hesitantly. “What just happened?”
The Fates Must Hate Him
Episode 9
ElowyngazesatRominyand swallows. He looks so...free. And masculine. And utterly attractive, as if the heartlanding knew exactly how to present him to her to make her own heart’s pace increase.
If the heat in his eyes is any indication, her appearance is having the same effect on him. It’s no wonder, really. This gown is scandalous, even for an elf.
“It’s our heartlanding,” she says over the crash of wind and waves. “A private place that’s ours alone.”
“Heartlanding? So we’re not really here?”
Elowyn shakes her head. “It’s a place the heartbinding will send us where we can connect and find rest and solace in each other’s company.”
Rominy’s eyes travel over her, and his face reddens.
“The heartbinding is usually done to save a life, so the heartlanding is often a place of rest for the soul while the body heals,” Elowyn continues. “But it can simply be a means for re-centering as well. From my understanding, it will always be the same place, and it will most likely transport us at night while we sleep.”
