“Elysande, you know as well as I that we will never completely have peace with them. It’s in our nature, it’s our history.”
“History can be changed. One’s nature can be changed. Just look at the world the last thousand years.” I’m already saying too much, so I shut my mouth. He smirks at me, calculating. It’s an arrogant one.
“Well, you’ll be disappointed to know that they have shared nothing of interest with me. The one with the unnaturally red eyes always has his mouth full of food or drink, and the other one simply grunts and frowns a lot.”
“They didn’t interrogate you at all? Ask you strange questions?”
“No.”
“Hmm.”
“I will keep trying, though.”
“I’m not so sure it’s a worthwhile cause anymore. I don’t want to risk your safety, and they don’t seem to be opening up to you.”
“Just give me a little more time.” I try not to sound too eager, but if he agrees to let me continue to spy on them, then it won’t look so suspicious if I’m spending more time with them while we work toward our real purpose. “I can get them to open up.”
His eyes have narrowed. He’s debating, but I don’t believe he’s suspicious. At least not about what we’re really up to.
“All right.”
I leave his quarters and return to my rooms. I need to drop my things off and sit down for a while. Perhaps take a nap. The last day and a half have worn me down, the effects just now beginning to trickle in.
Outside my door, however, sits an elf with shiny, straight black hair.
“Meela?”
“Wench?”
I snort.
“Where have you been?” my friend asks. No worry on her face, but plenty of curiosity.
“I went on a little adventure. Got some pie. Had a fun night with some random male at the inn.”
She scoffs. “Now I know you’re lying.”
“Am I?” I tease, tilting my head.
“Yes. Obviously.”
I gesture toward my door. “Come in. I’m tired of standing.”
She follows me inside and helps herself to a glass of red wine. Good stuff. It makes you generally happy and less inhibited, but it can leave you with a wicked headache the next day. And it’s nearly impossible to find, as the grapes are so incredibly rare, only grown in one small region to the south.
“I’ll take one of those,” I tell her as I flash a glance her way before entering my bedroom to change.
I throw on a soft, purple lounge dress and return to find her seated comfortably in my front room, her wine already halfway gone.
“So, tell me. My father told me your father had half the guards looking for you. He was actually kind of panicked. Especially because apparently two of the dragons were unaccounted for as well. One of which was accused of murder not three days ago.”
I take a sip of my wine, mulling her words over, trying to decide what to tell her.
She continues before I can come up with anything to say.
“Listen, I know you like having your little secrets, but you know you can tell me anything, right? You’re literally my only friend. Always have been.”
I quirk an eyebrow at her. “You have your secrets too. We don’t share secrets while we braid each other’s hair. We never have.”
