think I’ll qualify for the title of Miss until I’m at least thirty.”
She smiled brightly and filled a plate from the buffet laid out on a nearby counter. Bringing it to the table where I sat, she plopped it down without waiting for an invitation. I stood again to pull out her chair for her, and she laughed as she sat down.
“Oh my gosh. You Light Elves are so mannerly. I feel like I’ve stepped into a Regency romance novel or something.”
“I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable. Ryann likes it. But I know I’m probably out of step with the humans and Dark Elves you are usually around.”
She touched my hand lightly in a reassuring gesture. “Don’t get me wrong—I love it. Good manners are a lost art. I find you very charming.”
“Thank you. I hope you slept well.”
“Yes, thank you. My bed is heavenly.”
At the risk of contradicting her newly formed opinion of me and sounding rude, I asked, “If I may know—how old are you?”
Her brown eyes sparkled with humor. “I’m an old lady—nineteen.”
A year older than me. “I’m surprised you’ve just recently become betrothed. Is it so different in the Dark Court?”
“No. We usually bond at eighteen as well. But Mother wanted me to establish myself in modeling first, and then I found myself rather reluctant to marry someone I didn’t even know, though she fielded quite a few offers for me.”
“I can imagine,” I said honestly. “I feel the same way about arranged marriages, as you’ve probably deduced by now.”
“Right. You clearly chose your own bride. That must have caused quite a stink around here. I can’t even imagine suggesting bringing a human into the Dark Court.”
“A ‘stink’ is putting it mildly.” I laughed. “I came extremely close to walking away from the throne over it.”
Her eyes widened and then warmed. “So… you must really love her.”
“I do. More than anything. And you must love Culley as well, since you have accepted his offer after refusing so many others.”
There was a beat before she replied. “Yes.” She lifted her glass and took a drink. “So… what’s on the agenda today? I haven’t been here since I was nine and I ran around giggling about all the men’s tight breeches. I’m looking forward to becoming acquainted with the other attractions of your kingdom.”
I chuckled at her deliberately cheeky tone. “I’ll be happy to show you around. I hope you won’t be disappointed.”
She gave me a direct look, filled with good humor. “This is such a fascinating place, I don’t think that’s possible.”
After breakfast, I gave Ava a tour, starting with the royal residence. Then we went out into the common area with its shops and recreational areas. She watched in fascination as skilled artisans made tools and dishes, silverware, and jewelry.
In one hut, a mother and daughter worked closely together at a loom, weaving fabric for clothing. Ava stopped and observed with rapt attention as the pair laughed and chatted, their hands a blur of harmonious motion, the product of years of close communication and skill handed down from generation to generation. It made sense, I guess. Her career revolved around clothing.
“It’s so beautiful,” she said, in a tone so low I wasn’t sure it was meant for me to hear.
She seemed enthralled by the endless tunnels and antechambers, expressing delight at the stacked multi-level residences rising high on all sides of Altum’s interior walls.
“It’s sort of like my family’s
She smiled brightly and filled a plate from the buffet laid out on a nearby counter. Bringing it to the table where I sat, she plopped it down without waiting for an invitation. I stood again to pull out her chair for her, and she laughed as she sat down.
“Oh my gosh. You Light Elves are so mannerly. I feel like I’ve stepped into a Regency romance novel or something.”
“I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable. Ryann likes it. But I know I’m probably out of step with the humans and Dark Elves you are usually around.”
She touched my hand lightly in a reassuring gesture. “Don’t get me wrong—I love it. Good manners are a lost art. I find you very charming.”
“Thank you. I hope you slept well.”
“Yes, thank you. My bed is heavenly.”
At the risk of contradicting her newly formed opinion of me and sounding rude, I asked, “If I may know—how old are you?”
Her brown eyes sparkled with humor. “I’m an old lady—nineteen.”
A year older than me. “I’m surprised you’ve just recently become betrothed. Is it so different in the Dark Court?”
“No. We usually bond at eighteen as well. But Mother wanted me to establish myself in modeling first, and then I found myself rather reluctant to marry someone I didn’t even know, though she fielded quite a few offers for me.”
“I can imagine,” I said honestly. “I feel the same way about arranged marriages, as you’ve probably deduced by now.”
“Right. You clearly chose your own bride. That must have caused quite a stink around here. I can’t even imagine suggesting bringing a human into the Dark Court.”
“A ‘stink’ is putting it mildly.” I laughed. “I came extremely close to walking away from the throne over it.”
Her eyes widened and then warmed. “So… you must really love her.”
“I do. More than anything. And you must love Culley as well, since you have accepted his offer after refusing so many others.”
There was a beat before she replied. “Yes.” She lifted her glass and took a drink. “So… what’s on the agenda today? I haven’t been here since I was nine and I ran around giggling about all the men’s tight breeches. I’m looking forward to becoming acquainted with the other attractions of your kingdom.”
I chuckled at her deliberately cheeky tone. “I’ll be happy to show you around. I hope you won’t be disappointed.”
She gave me a direct look, filled with good humor. “This is such a fascinating place, I don’t think that’s possible.”
After breakfast, I gave Ava a tour, starting with the royal residence. Then we went out into the common area with its shops and recreational areas. She watched in fascination as skilled artisans made tools and dishes, silverware, and jewelry.
In one hut, a mother and daughter worked closely together at a loom, weaving fabric for clothing. Ava stopped and observed with rapt attention as the pair laughed and chatted, their hands a blur of harmonious motion, the product of years of close communication and skill handed down from generation to generation. It made sense, I guess. Her career revolved around clothing.
“It’s so beautiful,” she said, in a tone so low I wasn’t sure it was meant for me to hear.
She seemed enthralled by the endless tunnels and antechambers, expressing delight at the stacked multi-level residences rising high on all sides of Altum’s interior walls.
“It’s sort of like my family’s
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