1st Draft Fridays - A Fistful of Air: Book #5, Chronicles of Marsdenfel

Year 232 of the Bynding - The Realm of Salles, around Summer Solstice - post 3

Veil Six is clean and equipped better than I expected, considering who arranged it for me. A bedroom and an outer room with a fireplace, both doors with locks, and the outer room has three chairs, a small table, and a basket ready for some handicraft.

Princess Consort Mataine snaps out the bedspread, herself, and steps out of the bedroom to join me in the sitting room. “Will you want a maid?”

I consider her, the way she moves, and assume she has a dagger hidden under her right sleeve. “Lallie seems a wise choice.”

The princess consort runs her fingers along the table and checks them for dust. “Aldrik’s mother isn’t the only person around these parts who will kill the girl if they realize what she is.”

I finally recognize what strikes me as wrong about her voice: Her mountaineer has no lilt, common to those who learn it as their second language after having seafarthen as their first. “Was your mother of Salles?”

Mataine steps aside and looks at me for a long moment. “Southern edge, yes.”

“Your lack of accent caught my ear.”

She frowns. “Elves know so much of human accents, then?”

My breath hitches at the realization that, too, is something I know due to Tully. “I have a cousin who’s good with languages. She taught me a bit. Enough to recognize native languages for the main groups around Marsdenfel.”

The princess consort considers that a moment. “She’s older than you? For her to know several languages… I’d expect there to be some rumor floating about of a language prodigy, even if she is an elf.”

Hastheem has so many children that, as long as I say nothing that indicates I’m speaking entirely of the same cousin, she should be safe. And I do have cousins from more sources than him. “Her mother isn’t elfin.”

Interest fills Mataine’s expression for the first time since she’s met me. “Oh? Father emperor only ever took humans and human variants for his lovers.”

I manage a wry half-smile. “As elfin as I am, my father was human, if you’ll recall.”

Distrust fills her eyes again, and I realize I shouldn’t have reminded her of that reason her husband should’ve wed me. “It doesn’t show.”

“Not much,” I agree. “I’ve been told that’s the Bynd’s doing.I have cousins who look far less elfin than I do.”

Not that I’ve met any of the half-elfin ones other than Tully, but surely she isn’t the only one that can’t look elfin unless she tries. She had a brother at one point, though I’m uncertain what happened to him. Knowing Hastheem, the boy might’ve been killed in the training to make him like Tully, even though I doubt Tully would’ve accepted any order to kill him, herself.

As much as Tully dislikes her father and other relatives, I’ve never seen her raise a hand against them, although she oh-so-easily could.

“How many cousins do you have?” Mataine asks, tone more interested than sharp.

I don’t even know, anymore. “Dozens.”

A smile flutters across Mataine’s lips before she firms them together to stop it. She looks away. “I can’t like you.”

I keep my sigh soft. “I have no designs on your husband. My Gaylen—”

She interrupts with a sharp shake of her head. “You think me that petty?” She pauses and fiddles with the end of one sleeve. “Okay, so I am. Part of me is jealous. And part of me wishes he had married you so I wouldn’t be involved in this mess. What is it going to cost us, to protect you? Your daughter?”