My smile widened as footsteps approached.
“I remember why I don’t come here often,” Reagan said dryly, striding into the room, Coriander at his side. “Jane actually enjoys the cold.”
He sank into the seat to my right.
“You do?” Coriander asked, sliding into the seat to Alameda’s right. “We can’t stand it. Erisea needs at least one spot that’s sunny and warm during the winter.”
“Is that your garden?” I asked, glancing between them.
“My garden,” Alameda said, her tone prideful.
Coriander leaned back, grinning as if I’d just complimented him. “What did you think of the weather there?”
“Hot,” I said, taking a sip of coffee. “Reagan was right. I’m from the north, more used to the cold.”
I was surprised that he had remembered.
Coriander shook his head. “And how is it? Working with Mountheim’s Lord?”
It sounded like a casual question. I cast a sideways glance at Reagan. He met my eyes, his chin propped on his hand, looking almost bored.
They had no idea of my situation or that the man beside me was more my captor than my lord.
I paused, searching for something I could honestly say.
“I’m impressed by him,” I admitted at last. “People in your positions usually have so much dedication, and it shows in Reagan. It’s commendable.”
And it wasn’t a lie. I would have lied, if necessary, but apparently, I had one genuinely good thing to say about him.
“Well, not everyone is like that, Jane. I can assure you,” Coriander commented, reaching for a mug.
Alameda made a face, as if to agree, then lifted a finger. “Breakfast?” she asked.
The next moment, a feast appeared on the table: a spread of bread, boiled eggs, cheese, jam, and mixed fruits. I took in all the platters, pointedly avoiding the gaze I could feel on me.
We were eating in no time.
Alameda told me about Erisea’s location. The busy coastline made the sea a central part of their lives. Coriander spoke ofthe region’s specialties and its trading harbour, which made me realise there were more trading posts in the country than I had known, though I suspected humans didn’t trade in them. He described the main goods that passed through, one of which left me gaping.
“Elven dust?” I echoed, bemused. “What is it for?”
“It’s a substance that comes from a typical elven plant,” Alameda clarified. “We source it directly from Banfgaard. It’s known for easing migraines and mental strain, but many people use it for the high.”
“So, I take it you’ve never tried it?” Coriander asked, and I might have recognised mischief dancing in his tone.
“No, I can’t say that I have. Is it safe?” I asked.
“Not if you’re one to overindulge,” Reagan said, wryly arching his brows.
“In small amounts, it’s as dangerous as wine,” Alameda added.
“As riveting as this conversation is, I would like to discuss the reason Jane and I came,” Reagan said, leaning forward over the table.
“We’ll have time to talk about this later, but you should settle in first. You must be tired from flinging so far,” Coriander responded. “Besides, we need to give Jane a proper welcome to Erisea.”
???
We left the dining room after the Barrows.
