He tilted his head, as if the words were simple observation, not intrusion.“You look ...young for someone with children as old as yours.That’s unusual.Your mate died a long time ago, which means you haven’t been living in the elfin realm.You should have aged.”
Lisa forced a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.“Good genes.”
An eyebrow rose.“Good magic, maybe.”
The words hung there, quiet but unmistakable.It wasn’t a secret among light elves that Syndra was close with Lisa, and that closeness meant certain things, like protection, and help.The former light queen had allowed Lisa to live a healthy life to ensure she could take care of her children.And Lisa would be forever grateful to her for it.
Lisa met his gaze, every sense in her going still.“You really shouldn’t throw that word around in public.Someone might hear.”
“There’s no one left to hear,” he said, voice low.“Not that it would matter.”
Something flickered in his eyes then—brief, dark, unguarded.Not malice.Not exactly sadness either.It was emptiness, deep and old.The same hollow she’d seen once before, in another dark elf’s eyes, right before she lost him.
Lisa exhaled, more to steady herself than anything.“You want honey in your tea?”
He blinked, like she’d broken a spell.“What?”
“Honey,” she said again, voice calm.“It’s good for bitterness.”
Rezer’s mouth twitched.“Then yes.I think I’ll need some.”
Lisa slid the steaming cup toward him, careful not to meet his gaze for too long.“Try not to burn your tongue.I don’t want that on my conscience.”
Rezer’s fingers brushed the cup, the movement slow and deliberate.“You think I’m that fragile?”
“I think many people underestimate the heat of boiling water,” she said, wiping an invisible spot on the counter.
He took a sip anyway, eyes still on her.If it burned, he didn’t show it.He just hummed quietly, the sound low in his throat.“Not bad.”
Lisa leaned a hip against the counter, crossing her arms loosely.“High praise.I’ll add that to my marketing slogans:Not bad, according to possibly dangerous dark elves.”
Rezer’s mouth curved, the smallest hint of amusement flickering across his features.“You think I’m dangerous?”
Lisa shrugged one shoulder.“Dark.Elf.You all sort of give off that vibe.”
He tilted his head, studying her.“And yet, you didn’t throw me out.”
“I was raised to be polite.”She took a deep breath, exhaling through her nose.“I was mated to a dark elf, as you so kindly pointed out, so it’s not something new to me.And besides, you don’t seem ..reckless.Just persistent.”
“Persistent,” he repeated, tasting the word.“I’ve been called worse.”
Lisa smiled despite herself and reached for another jar, pretending to reorganize it.“I imagine so.”
The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable exactly—it just wasn’t empty.There was a pull to it, something weighty beneath the surface.She felt it hum faintly in the air, like a vibration only she could sense.He seemed to feel it, too, because his expression softened, curiosity edging toward something more personal.
“Do you ever miss it?”he asked.
Lisa glanced back at him, cautious.“Miss what?”She knew what he meant, and was thankful he hadn’t said “miss him.”
“The other realm.The life you left.”
Still, the question hit harder than she expected.Her fingers tightened briefly around the jar before she set it down.“Sometimes,” she admitted.“I had two reasons to leave.And missing doesn’t mean I want to go back.There’s too many memories.”
Rezer nodded slowly, his thumb tracing the rim of his cup.“I understand that.Memories aren’t always a good thing.”
She doubted he did, but the quiet in his voice made her wonder what, exactly, he missed, or didn’t want to go back to.
A familiar shimmer rippled near the corner of the room.Lisa didn’t need to look up to know who it was.Lisa was going to have to get rid of that damn mirror if she wanted to make it a little harder for her nosy friend to get inside.
