“You had no options? You definitely have options. It would be wise to consider them.”
“Do all elves—”
“Most do, though elves are usually less fertile than humans. I don’t know what to expect for you. But you have a lot of years ahead of you, Arisanna. And I’m not sure my brother is ready to be a father.”
Stars above. That’s an understatement.
Maybe someday but definitely not this day.
“So one drop every night, and that’s all it takes?” she asks. If she thinks of Tharios as a healer rather than her brother-in-law, this conversation feels less awkward.
“Yes. Every night.”
“And…there are other ways, too?”
“Yes. When we return to Lostariel, we can discuss them. I need to check on Elowyn now. Remember, every night.”
She nods. “Thank you.”
“Thank you, Arisanna. For loving Cerian just the way he is.” Tharios slips through the door before she can respond, and she sets the vial on the bedside table.
Every night.
That will be an awkward conversation to have with Cerian. That’s a problem for later, though.
For now, she eyes the tiny water closet longingly.
A shower. A narrow one, but a shower, nonetheless.
She could wash up quickly, couldn’t she? She’d have to put her shimmeron dress back on after, but somehow it still smells fresh despite all the time she and Cerian spent traipsing through the woods and riding on horseback the past few days.
Unlike the rest of her.
No one has said anything, but she occasionally catches a whiff of herself that’s less than pleasant.
Mother is occupied, and Cerian is with Elowyn. Now would be a good time.
Though just thinking of Cerian makes her long for him. His heartbeat is steady in her chest, but it calls to her. The closer they grow, the more it feels like she wouldn’t even need Tharios and his life magic to find Cerian.
Her heart would lead her right to him.
Does he feel the same pull she does? He must.
She glances at the water closet again. Just a quick shower.
Then she’ll search for some food that won’t make him gag and go find him.
Quickly, she slips her gown off and turns on the tap as gloriously warm water pours in a stream from overhead.
Stepping into the shower, she groans. They need one of these at Windhaven.
An assortment of soaps lines a ledge, and she sniffs each one, immediately putting back the musky scent with a hint of pine, leaving a floral soap and a fruity one to choose from. Which scent would Cerian like best?
The fruit one reminds her of his berry scent, and she breathes it in again as a smile fills her face.
Definitely the one that smells like berries.
Quickly, she washes her hair and scrubs her grimy skin before shutting off the water and reaching for a fluffy towel.
