Page 13 of An Arrow to the Heart

“Thirty-eight.”

“Fae stop ageing at a human rate in our mid twenties, then we age approximately a year’s worth of human ageing over the span of fifty years or so.”

Wait.

She just revealed herself as fae.

No one had seen a full fae in centuries, folk believed the only fae that lived now were the descendants of those who had offspring with other folk.

Well shit.

He hadn’t expected that, he had guessed her to be elven. And if she looked to be early thirties that meant she had to be hundreds of years old.

As though sensing the cogwheels turning in head she added, “I’ll let you work out my age,” and a little giggle escaped her lips and Gods help him for he loved that sound more than anything else.

“But don’t go around advertising it to everyone. A female deserves to keep some mystery about her. Now, if you’re done with questions, I really do need to get back to my work.” And it was clear by her tone on the latter that it wasn’t a suggestion, he was to busy himself with something else. He stood for a moment longer pondering what to do.

“I suppose you could help me with my research, I’m looking into curse undoings so if you want, you could scour the books for any useful information regarding that topic and make a note of them. And before you ask, no, I won’t be telling you why or what for,” she said as she pointed toward the bookcase.

So with little else to do Ardál agreed and hobbled over to the bookcase to aid her with the research. He hadn’t forgotten what she had said though. She was fae, and she’d lived several of his lifetimes over. Gods, he wanted to hear her stories, and he just knew she’d have a thing or two to teach him.

He tried to distract himself by browsing her books, and to his shock it worked as she had tome and after tome about ancient folktales and an astonishingly worrying amount about curses. He shook his head before the title, ‘A Dragon’s curse’ caught his eye and he picked it up, awkwardly settling himself on the settee, being careful to keep his knee straight, which was incredibly comfortable and he began to read, losing all sense of time as he lost himself in the tome.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

-Sylvie-

Sylvie stripped the remainder of the plant, the cherry-sized purple tomatoes now filled her trug. She loved this time of day in the garden, especially at this time of year. It had been a particularly fruitful gardening season. The sun was low in the sky, drenching everything in a sea of golden light. Phelan was at her heel. Her latest furry house guest had been with her for close to three weeks by this point and she couldn’t lie, she’d grown fond of Phelan. She particularly liked his protectiveness, he was fiercely loyal to anyone he took a shine to. This included Fermack, and she was glad for it because it meant the dog had helped her keep Fermack hidden. The cub typically slept all day and she’d found Phelan guarding the cub in its sleep on days where she had to leave the farm.

“You’re a good boy, aren’t you?”

She knelt to his level and gave him an embracing hug and pet before picking up the trug and gathering some more produce. As she walked past the herb bed she made a mental note to come out in the morning to harvest the chamomile and calendula flower heads that had filled the bed. She also needed to tend to the mint bed for she didn’t want it to spread and choke out her more delicate plantings.

The evening sun’s warmth upon her and face she thought it might be a good idea for Ardál to join her for supper out here today. It would be good to get him into the fresh air. She supposed he would love the idea of getting to leave the cottage, he’d been practically begging her for days now. She hurried back into the kitchen to prepare the salad with what she had harvested, some tomatoes, beetroot and greens to go with the freshly baked sourdough bread she’d made. Perfect to go along with the roasted hog meat she’d picked up from Valeska earlier.

“Care to join me in the garden for supper this evening?” she asked with a hint of flirtation in her voice that she hadn’t intended on, as she entered the small room where he sat perched on the bed reading. His eyes lit up at the question before a genuine smile appeared on his face. She’d grown really fond of the way he smiled at her.

“As if you needed to ask,” he said, brimming ear to ear.

“I’ll grab the food and meet you outside,” she said, her eyes still lingering on that smile of his, she loved the way two deep lines appeared, reaching almost all the way to his eyes.

She made sure to take her time in the kitchen as she grabbed a basket and placed their plates within. She made her way down the small garden path flanked at both sides by kitchen garden beds. She dipped under the bean arch and then she’d made her way to the centre of the garden where the pavilion stood with the evergreen cast iron table and two chairs. She was met with a smile from Ardál who had seated himself on the chair facing away from the house.

His injured leg outstretched and straight just like she’d told him to keep it. He must have bit through a lot of pain though to have gotten there at such a fast pace. It was something that hadn’t gone unnoticed by her. Nor did the way his cream-coloured tunic strained against his broad shoulders, or the way the dark hair on his muscular chest was revealed by the top buttons he’d left undone, and the way in which he’d rolled up his sleeve showing his tanned muscular forearms. His usually wild curly hair had been tightly pulled back into a bun just above his nape, his neatly trimmed beard glistening shades of brown intertwined with flashes of silver in the evening sun. His warm eyes locked onto hers before drifting down the length of her, lingering at her hips and she couldn’t stop the way her chest tightened and the blood rushed to colour her cheeks.

“Here,” she said, placing the basket on the table in front of him gesturing for him to help himself. He opened his beautiful mouth to speak but before he could get a word out she abruptly said, “be right back.” She hurried back to the house, she needed a moment to cool the heat rising within her core, before grabbing the drinks.

Why was she acting like such a fool?

She returned with two bottles of ale, “the Old Oak’s best,” she said with a smile as she handed him a bottle. He seemed to relax at that, almost as though he was caught off guard by her genuine smile and felt as awkward as she did.

Without another word they both began tucking into their supper and only after several minutes of silence between them, with nothing but the sound of the evening garden around them that Ardál spoke.

“This is delicious, I’ve never had tomatoes like these,” he said as he pointed to the tomato pierced by his fork. Before putting it in his mouth. She found herself watching as he placed it between his lips and her gaze lingered on the small white scar that ran from his bottom lip into his beard.

She couldn’t stop the smile that appeared on her face as her mind began to wonder at the thought of her body on those lips before she buried the thought and said somewhat flustered, “they’ve been bred specifically to have an active production of anthocyanin, the more direct sunlight they get, the more intense the purple colouring. They’re kind of similar to blueberries in that way. But it doesn’t take away from that distinct sweet tomato flavour.” She paused for a moment as though sensing she may have talked more than he was used to before shrugging as she continued, “I like to experiment with the garden.”

He let out a soft chuckle before he said, “sounds interesting, the results sure are tasty.” He took a swig of his bottled ale and relaxed back into the seat spreading his legs further, “tell me more.”