He says nothing as he gazes at her, as if he’s waiting to see her next move before he responds. Perhaps he’s trying to figure out if she meant that the way it sounded.
“I-I want a bowl to melt caramels in, Cerian. And sticks to...to hold the apples. You...want to make me happy, don’t you?”
This feels so foreign. Not wrong, but not the sort of thing she’d normally say. She’s not in the habit of sounding like a self-centered, spoiled princess. Mother saw to that.
Arisanna pushes aside that thought. Now is not the time to think about her mother.
“I always want to make you happy.” Heat fills Cerian’s eyes. He seems to understand where she’s going with this.
But...now what?
Maybe they should go ask Chef for what they need. She should have thought of that first.
Cerian would probably rather stay here, though.
Judging by the look in his eyes, he’d definitely rather stay here.
And now he’s waiting for her to seduce him.
Wandering Magic
Episode 98
WhereverArisannaisgoingwith this, Cerian has no intention of stopping her.
She looks unsure of herself, but before he can think of anything to say or do to put her at ease, she wanders near him again, though she doesn’t touch him.
“Does your magic want to come out to play, my elven prince?”
Yes. Yes, it does.
But...they seem to be engaged in some sort of dance here. Perhaps he shouldn’t respond too eagerly.
“You need only ask,” he whispers. Hopefully, that’s the response she desires. Already, his plant magic longs to wrap itself around her.
Then she leans so close, lifting onto her toes, that her breath tickles his ear, and he barely bites back a groan. His spark of fire magic may ignite soon if he’s not careful. It’s tempered but not obliterated.
“Catch me with your magic, my elven prince.”
She’s across the room before he fully comprehends her words, and she looks back at him with a hesitancy in her eyes that makes him want to draw her close and reassure her she has nothing to fear.
But his magic has other ideas. It definitely wants to play her game, and it responds eagerly when he lets it. A vine slithers along the floor toward her, but she runs from it, and a smile tugs at his lips. She can’t escape his magic.
And they both know it.
“Before this goes any further,” he says softly, “tell me if you want me to stop. All right? I wish for you to feel safe.”
She nods, warmth and affection filling her eyes.
And he lets his vines trail after her, slowly at first, giving her time to hurry away.
After a few minutes of this, he lets them brush against her, and she squeals.
The desire to make her squeal again fills him.
“Take off your boots, Arisanna,” he says as he stands at the side of the room with his arms crossed, and her heart speeds up.
Whistling wind. He just wants to tickle her feet. What must she think he’s planning to tell her next?
