His Wicked Days

Chapter Eight

I was ushered away somewhere with surprising speed. The mention of a baby and Beryl and Luril's worried looks over it gave me a strange sort of fright, and Luril was kind enough to tell me it wasn't Eiran's, adding in a whisper that this was the problem.

That's around when Beryl suggested the ballroom needed some attention, which I knew it didn't, but I was bustled off and closed into it without any further explanation.

It was starting to get frustrating, being the only stranger in this house. In this land. Beryl was still so keen to keep me in the dark until Eiran was ready, until he was the one to tell me of his life, but my patience was wearing out. Not to mention my curiosity was bursting at the seams.

Still, I sighed into the emptiness and wandered in circles across the ballroom floor, trying to find any suggestion of more dirt or dust I could use my broom on. I wasn't quite sure enough in my footing here to do what I really wanted to do, which was sneak out of here and try and eavesdrop on whatever was happening over my head. So I opened and closed all the glass doors that led out to the unkempt garden, wondering how nice it might look if any care was given to it. It needed more than a gardener but I started to fancy the idea of one. And a mason for the carvings. And a carpenter for the holes in the roof. And a glazier for all the broken windows.

No matter what we did around here there was always more, and soon every bit that remained would be far out of my hands.

When the ballroom door opened behind me I didn't expect to turn and see Luril slipping in. "Oh," I said, turning to face him as his boots echoed across the floor. "Hello."

"Hello again," he smiled pleasantly. "I thought I might find you before I go so I can apologize for the brush off you got. I'm on strict orders not to explain, however, and that made me very curious."

I bit my lips together a moment and gave a little nod. "Beryl doesn't want me tainted, I think. She wants Eiran to be the one to share his past with me, if he ever does."

Luril lifted a brow. "So she found someone who doesn't know his history? You must be very young."

"I imagine I must be, to all of you," I said.

He gave a pleasant little chuckle. "It's daunting isn't it, coming face to face with Fae who are hundreds of years older than you and yet not wrinkled and crippled? Keep in mind we're not old either, though. Our aging is complicated. I remember being young. Well younger. After your next fifty years you'll see what it's like. Eternal youth it is not, but Ancients if it doesn't last a while."

"I can't imagine myself looking this way for another 50 years," I admitted.

"It will be interesting to see what Fae traits run strongly in you," Luril said with a smile, and I had no fear or embarrassment over his knowledge of what I was. I was used to myself now, for the most part.

"So what sort of girl are you to stay here in the face of misery, secrecy, and isolation?" Luril asked me, his soft voice echoing about the empty space.

I actually scoffed. "The secrecy is growing tiresome, but I'm no stranger to misery and isolation."

"And you're happy here?"

I shrugged and looked around the ballroom "I'm not sure yet, but I think I could be."

"There's not much here for a beautiful young lady," Luril went on, a flattering smirk on his lips. "I'd imagine you'd prefer to be anywhere else."

"I'm a physician," I said simply, using the term I now knew would keep my human roots hidden here.

"Ah, so you have the same desperate desire to fix things as Beryl does," Luril teased.