“You kept her alive.”
“Yes.”
“You would die for her?”
“In a heartbeat.”
Esther’s breath hitched.
The king studied him with the intensity of someone who’d spent decades weighing threats and allies. Then his posture eased.
“Good,” Arcturus said. “Because I nearly had a stroke when you walked in holding hands.”
Esther’s face turned crimson.
“Father!”
He shrugged. “I’m adjusting. Slowly.”
Before Esther could respond, the throne room doors slammed open.
Lupin stormed in like a blizzard with a sword.
Literallywitha sword.
“Who do I have to fight?” he demanded, scanning the room. “Who touched my sister? Who endangered her? Who even breathed near her with malicious intent? I’ll end them.”
“Lupin—” Esther sighed.
He gasped dramatically and rushed to her, cupping her face as though checking for invisible injuries.
“Esther, your hair is different. Your aura is different. Your entire soul feels different. What happened? Blink three times if you’ve been cursed by dark magic.”
“I’m fine,” she said.
“She’s glowing,” Nythir murmured, unable to stop the smile tugging at his lips.
Lupin whipped around.
“You.” He pointed at Nythir. “Back up. Don’t smile at her. Don’t breathe on her. Don’t—did you hold her hand? You held her hand, didn’t you?”
Esther: “Lupin, please.”
Lupin slid between them like a human barricade.
“I knew it. He’s corrupted you with his elvan allure.”
“That’s not a thing,” Nythir said gently.
“Oh, it is,” Lupin snapped. “I read about it in a pamphlet titledElves: Should We Be Concerned?”
Esther pinched the bridge of her nose.
King Arcturus sighed. “Lupin. She’s alive. She’s safe. And she’s choosing her own path.”
Lupin deflated slightly… then squared his shoulders again.
“But I reserve the right to duel anyone who breaks her heart.”
