Chapter One Hundred and Thirty Two: Anything
Her eyes were dark.
Her chest was tight with fury.
And every step she took away from the dining hall resounded with her anger.
Sinmir, despite having longer legs and being so much bigger as a whole, had trouble keeping up with her. He loped after her as she stormed through the hotel, white hair bouncing, the dark blue of her skirt billowing around her ankles and drifting above the pristine floors.
"Ella, tell me, what happened?" Sinmir demanded, making her snap out of her thoughts. "You've not been yourself since you stormed out of there, and you've been as quiet as a mouse even though you're obviously in a temper. It's unlike you."
"Not here," she said in a clipped, no-nonsense tone. "Wait until we're safe within our room."
His face tightened and he he seemed displeased by her response, but he followed her without further complaint. Not that he had very long to wait, since they were already walking towards the door leading to the red room.
Relief flooding through her when she stormed inside with the prince hot on her heels. The suite door shut behind them with a thump, and the silhouettes of her waiting friends made the room's beautiful gloom seem alive, which it was considering how many people filled it.
"You're back so soon?!" Vrael's voice exclaimed. "I expected you to be away long into the night!"
"Plans do change, but either way you'll never guess what I learned," she said. "I have a great deal of new information."
"Well? Is he an enemy or isn't he?" Sinmir demanded. "Ella, tell me what happened!"
"Wait, why don't you know?" Xaphile instantly asked. "Weren't you there with her?"
"I wasn't allowed inside. It was very shady the way this whole thing played out," Sinmir growled, tapping his foot in irritation. "Ella, speak to me. I've waited long enough."
Ella folded her arms with a grim expression.
Of the questions she'd had, many of them had been answered.
For example, she knew now that Spack was aware of her association with Sinmir, Xaphile, Vrael, and Vordt, which if ever spoken about would put them all at risk, but she was heavily protected by the fact that if he did tell someone, he would go down with her.
Then there was his reaction to her question about the faeries.
It bothered her.
'Don't dig too deep. You won't get out again.'
She thought about it carefully before replying, and when she did she spoke slowly and with care.
"He knows nearly everything," she said simply. "He knows what and who every single one of you boys are. He knows most of our plans, and has known of them for months. He tried to blackmail me into giving up my chastity in exchange for his silence on the matter. Hence why I returned."
Sinmir stiffened when she touched her aching breast with a wince.
A quiet, lion-like growl abruptly filled the air with a low rumble that made her hair raise.
Her eyes flew to Xaphile just in time to see his eyes land right on her hand, face locking into a frightening expression of malice. His lips drew back and his teeth were immediately bared, and had he not been covered by an illusion his fangs would have been on full display.
He knows, she suddenly realized, eyes widening. He knows that Spack touched my chest.
"Why didn't you fight back?" he hissed, rising to his feet and slinking over to her. "Why?"
Ella swallowed hard under the fierce stare he was giving her.
She had never seen this expression before.
"I was in the middle of a room full of nobility, and drawing attention would have been bad," she said with a lump in her throat. "More to the point, I don't think... he's a true enemy of ours. He is terrible for trying to manipulate me the way he did, but I have a feeling that he was going to help us do this even without that. He just tried to bite off more than he could chew, I assume."
Xaphile's eyes narrowed.
"Well, he's not our ally, that much is for sure," Vrael said carefully. "After hearing what he tried to force you to do, I assume that if he's helping us, it's because he has ulterior motives."
"He benefits from our actions in some way," Ella agreed, puzzled, "but I haven't been able to figure out how that could possibly be. Still, I think..."
She trailed off, mulling over Spack's behavior, then shook her head.
"No, you're going to take this the wrong way."
"No we won't!" Amelia said, expression broadcasting earnestness and trust. "Tell us!"
Ella swallowed.
"I think Spack has good intentions," she admitted slowly. Sinmir and Xaphile's eyes narrowed, and even Vordt looked slightly more irritated, but Ella held up a hand. "I can't speak for what he tried to do, but based on what he told me, I think he genuinely wanted to help us free Adariel."
Silence reigned free and many glances were exchanged before Sinmir sighed.
Stepping forward, he set a cautious hand on her shoulder.
"What makes you think that?" he quietly inquired. "I want... no, I need to know."
"I made a very well-intended inquiry about how a primordial faery from my lands ended up all the way here, in northern Antecara," Ella informed him. "His reaction... it was as if he feared for my safety, and his entire demeanor changed. He gave me a warning not to dig too deep, and told me that I would need to be careful at the party because of something called 'The Terrace'."
"The Terrace?" Sinmir asked, raising an eyebrow. "Never heard of them."
"Neither have I," Ella admitted, shaking her head. "Tomorrow night, we're rescuing Adariel, no matter the cost."
"How are we going to make this work?" Vordt asked. "What's the plan?"
Ella lifted her hands and pulled on the strings of the ribbon keeping her hair tied back. It slid through her fingers and her hair slid down around her cheeks in a silken ripple; she tossed her head, shaking it out, then looked at them all fiercely one at a time.
"I'll be on the dance floor with Sinmir and Vrael, fishing for information," she said sharply, then pointed at Vordt, Amelia, and Xaphile. "While we do that, you three will secretly navigate the castle and find out where Adariel is being held."
"EH?!" Amelia cried, instantly looking horrified. "How are we supposed to do that?!"
"Most parts of a castle become open to the public whenever a ball is thrown," Sinmir informed her, letting loose a worried fit of mutterings. "Then again, the sentries will have increased tenfold, which will make escaping with a wounded child nearly impossible."
"That's why I've chosen Amelia to go with you," Ella informed them. "Each of you has skills that are necessary to find him. She can heal some of his more grievous wounds and can possibly even conceal his presence with illusion magic. Xaphile can track his location, too."
"And me?" Vordt demanded, tilting his head speculatively. "Why choose me to go with them?"
Ella gave him a strange look, not really understanding the question.
"Don't you want to be there when your younger nephew is rescued?" she inquired. "He's just as much your flesh and blood as Xaphile. He needs both of you equally."
This subdued the primordial faery.
"What are we going to wear?" Vrael asked, raising his eyebrows. "Phil, Vordt, and I don't have any clothes that might be presentable for a ball."
"Illusions come in handy for times like this," Amelia informed him. "I'll have something ready by tomorrow, don't worry."
"Illusions shatter and disappear if you break your focus, even the physical ones," Vordt warned, making everyone freeze. "You're already holding up a great deal of them. Are you certain you can handle the stress of adding more and keeping them steady?"
"Amelia, is this true?" Ella asked, looking at her in surprise. "Are you under any stress?"
"I am," she allowed, shaking her head, "but I can manage to hold up a few more, especially if it's something simple, like clothing manipulation."
"Well, then I guess its settled," Ella said, pushing her bangs out of her eyes. "We have our plan."
Then, after recalling the mirror in the room, she bent over and started unlacing her left boot. Everyone watched as she tugged it off, turned, and chucked it at the mirror so hard that the entire thing shattered into a million pieces.
"Ella! That was a glass mirror!" Amelia cried. "Those are expensive!"
"So?" she deadpanned. "I'll pay for it later. Now that there's no chance of us being eavesdropped on... I can speak this next part freely. Now, all of you, put your packs inside the magic bag."
"What?!" Amelia squeaked, eyes widening. "Ella, why?"
"Just in case things go wrong," she said with a snort. "You're taking that bag with you when you go to find Adariel, Amelia, so I figure it would be better to have all of our things in one place than to needlessly scramble about in a hurry if things go wrong."
"When you put it like that, it does make sense," Vordt noted, scratching one of his wild sideburns.
"If necessary, you may even be able to hide Adariel inside the bag as well," Ella allowed, thinking hard about it. "It would take away the need to use an illusion."
"No," Sinmir instantly countered, looking alarmed. "If she takes that bag with her, there will be guards every three seconds asking her to open it up, and the contents of the bag would raise questions even without a wounded child inside. They may assume we're thieves and arrest us."
Ella's eye twitched and frustration swept through her since she hadn't thought of that.
"You're right," she muttered, furrowing her brows. "Then, instead, I'll personally come back to our rooms while you all head to the alley we first arrived in. If there's trouble, I want you all to regroup there, but if we're successful things should go accordingly."
"You sure we should pool all of our things in one place?" Vrael asked, showing more worry than he was prone to, but Sinmir slugged him in the shoulder.
"It'll be fine," the prince said, then gave Ella a look, "though if you lose anything that belongs to me, you will seriously owe me. Take care of my belongings."
"You know me," Ella shook her head. "I'm nothing if not stubborn. I'll make sure your things are returned safely."
He beamed.
"Aye, that ya will," he said, and he grinned at the others. "That's that."
"So, what now?" Vrael asked, tiredly looking around.
"Now," Vordt said, more to himself than to any of them, "now we have to wait. There's nothing more to do. You mortals should get some much-needed sleep."
Ella felt nervous acid kick up into her throat, making it burn.
She didn't like to play the waiting game.
"Well, I'm going to dress myself into something more comfortable," she said. "Have all of you eaten?"
"Yes, we made supper," Amelia said, gesturing at the fireplace, which held a pot. "We're fine."
Ella nodded and walked into the bathroom with her favorite black dress as everyone finally got settled in with plans to retire.
They had all apparently made supper over the fireplace, which was now alive and roaring, so she didn't have to worry about her friends going hungry.
She looked at her reflection in the mirror once she was standing in the bathroom, her rumpled blue gown, her disheveled white hair.
The white lashes framing her freakish pink eyes.
She shivered, touching her aching breast with anger and revulsion welling up, but before she could so much as process what had been done, Xaphile stepped into view behind her on feet that made no sound.
Her heart jumped and her eyes widened when she saw the angry look on his face, but she hastily averted her gaze when he moved forward.
He stopped only when his stomach touched her back.
"What did he do to you?"
The question was simple, but spoken with an alarming amount of fury.
Ella swallowed, refusing to raise her eyes and meet his gaze.
"He... touched my breast, and squeezed it so hard that it hurt," she eventually mumbled. "I'll bruise a little bit, but I'll be fine. For now, just... focus on finding your brother, Xaphile."
Silence came from behind her, and the air became so still that she almost began to think he'd left, but just as she was about to raise her eyes, his clawed hands came to rest on her bare shoulders.
She flinched, but his palms were warm and his grip was gentle.
"Ella," he said softly, lightly accented voice rolling into her ears like velvet, "why?"
Confusion made her look at him, but to her surprise, his eyes were pained.
Pissed, too, but mostly pained.
"Why what?" she asked. "I'm afraid I don't understand the context of the question."
"Why would you let him put his hands on you like that?" he urged, catlike irises glimmering wildly for a moment. "You shouldn't have let him do it. I felt it the moment he did, and he hurt you, bad."
Her heart thumped when his face took on a slightly angrier tinge.
She blinked a few times and looked up at him with a dazed expression before shrugging and lowering her eyes. He seemed rather vexed by her lack of response. A smile slowly built up inside her chest, but she suppressed it, telling herself it was foolish to get her hopes up.
Still, she was kind of happy to see the anxiety lacing his expression.
His behavior, and the way he was acting... was it possible?
Was it truly possible?
"Tell me," he growled, voice taking on a more insistent tone. "Please."
"The reason doesn't matter," Ella murmured quietly, glancing up at him with stoic eyes when he frowned. "I'm rather surprised by the fact that you're so concerned, though."
His eyes flickered a bit upon hearing her statement, and for a few moments... he looked upset.
"He put his hands on you," Xaphile hissed, narrowing his eyes. "Why wouldn't I be concerned?"
"Why do you care?" Ella distantly inquired, not meeting his gaze and staring blankly at the tile counter. "I already told you that you don't need to worry."
"Don't give me that bullshit," Xaphile instantly snapped, gripping her shoulder and roughly jerking her around. "Just tell me already!"
Ella looked up at him when he growled, obviously pissed.
Her heart sang and she couldn't hide the smile that wanted to come out.
He was instinctively acting possessive of her without even realizing it.
He blinked when she raised her hands, fingers dusting his wrists with a feather-light touch.
"I've been hurt in a lot of different ways over these last few months," she softly explained, letting out a small, slightly bitter laugh, "so how is it that this time is different?"
Xaphile's eyes looked startled.
Then they narrowed yet again and his mouth tightened.
"Answer my question instead of skirting around it," he hissed, tightening his grip on her shoulders. "Why didn't you force him to let go?!"
"Why are you so angry about it?"
Her response made him lose it.
"Are you trying to piss me off?!" he shouted.
Ella grinned even wider and lifted her arms, clutching his hair and dragging his face down.
He jerked, letting go of her as he was pulled within an inch of her own nose, but there was no hostility in the gaze that she fixed on him. He looked alarmed, those almond-shaped eyes almost completely round, but he was still.
"I didn't make a scene because of what was at stake," she whispered, staring into the magical eyes that peered back into her own as if her gaze could touch the beautiful soul behind them. "I am sorry that I drew this out and frustrated you, but... I couldn't help myself."
"Why?" he asked, face wrinkling in confusion. "Does it make you feel good to see me stressed?"
"Not at all," she sighed, pressing their noses together and closing her eyes. "I wanted to tease you, that's all."
"T... tease me?"
His breath wafted across her face, bringing with it the scent of fresh pine, mint, and soft spices.
"Yes," Ella whispered. "Your reaction confirmed to me just how much you care for my safety."
He went completely still.
"Shouldn't that already be obvious?" he lowly demanded. "After everything that's happened these last few months, you should know better. Please, just answer me. Why didn't you fight him off of you?"
"Because," Ella said, opening her eyes with the softest expression she could muster, "I love you."
He froze, brows raising and eyes growing as round as marbles.
"What?! How... how does that..."
Ella let go of his hair and put a finger to his lips, silencing his spluttering.
"I could endure anything for your sake," she said simply. "I didn't make a scene because doing so might have jeopardized the plan to rescue your little brother. To me, your future happiness is far more important than having to only momentarily endure someone's unwanted advances."
He looked shocked.
His fists snatched her shoulders again, and he opened his mouth as if to yell at her... but nothing came out of him. He blinked, then blinked again, eyes crinkling with something that made her heart thump up her throat. He looked at her with an intensity that had her knees turning to jelly.
And for the second time, it happened.
He leaned forward and kissed her square across the lips, eyes showing more wild emotion than she had ever seen possess his aquiline face.
Her heart stopped when she was pushed back against the counter, hands gripping it to steady herself as his soft mouth was pressed against her own. Warmth flooded through her and she kissed him back like she was a drowning person and he was air.
The kiss was by no means a chaste thing, but for some reason it did not strike her as sexual at all. It was exploratory and desperate, something borne out of a desire to understand without understanding in the slightest, a need to feel the truth for a brief instant then force it away so they wouldn't have to look at it again.
She would have closed her eyes, but his gaze remained locked onto her own.
Those haunting blue-green irises shimmered and danced.
She could see that there was a large amount of uncertainty within him.
She could see that he wasn't ready to take the next step.
And yet, here he was, even against his own inner confusion and desires... kissing her.
Showing her proof that even though he wasn't ready now, he would be someday.
She got lost in him after that, lifting a single hand and setting against his cheek. Her heart skipped and danced erratically, pulse pounding in her wrists and throat.
She loved the way his mouth felt on hers, the taste and scent and feel of him, unadulterated and pure. She loved the way his hair felt when she ran it between her fingers. She loved the way his hands slid lower, wrapping around her waist, like he could force her inside his own skin.
It was all cool heat and calm chaos and controlled madness and...
And then it was over.
He pulled away, their arms still locked loose around each others' bodies, and they looked at one another for a long time. Ella was breathless; her lips stung.
"I don't understand you at all," she somehow managed to force out. He licked his lips, claws slightly digging into her sides. "I just... I can't figure you out."
"That makes two of us," he panted, then lifted his eyes and glared at the mirror. "If he touches you again... I'll likely get angry for you. And I won't let him get away with it."
"Shut up," Ella breathed, setting her forehead against his chest. "Don't ruin the moment."
"I... I won't," was his panted response. He opened his mouth to say more.
And that was when company showed up.
"Well," said a quiet voice, cutting through the air like a spade, "as romantic as this mood is, I'm afraid that some of us do have to use the latrine."
Ella and Xaphile's heads instantly whipped around in shock to find Sinmir standing a few feet away, arms folded and a knowing smirk on his face. Ella could tell that he was amused because those sharp grey eyes of his were glinting mischievously, but she still felt a horrible chill creep over her.
She instantly pushed Xaphile away from her and he stumbled backward.
"How much did you see?" she hissed, feeling her face heating up. "Answer me!"
"All of it," Sinmir chuckled, rolling his eyes. "Good for the two of you is all I can say."
Xaphile went red in the face and hid his eyes with his hair.
Wordlessly, he stiffly shuffled out of the room, shoulders hunched up to his ears.
Ella watched him go, feeling a small pang of regret.
Sinmir closed the door when she made to follow, preventing her from leaving.
She halted in her tracks, giving him a confused look.
"What are you doing?" she asked, watching in alarmed confusion as he drew drew a dagger from his boot; she stepped back when he moved forward, but instead of walking towards her, he made his way over to the mirror and slammed the hilt of the blade into the glass.
She jumped, watching as the mirror shattered like the other one.
"I'll pay for it," he said, sheathing the blade back into his boot. "I don't want an audience any more than you do since I really do have to use the latrine. First, however, I wish to speak with you about what we discussed earlier."
Ella's brows rose and she looked at him more intently.
"About... your... your son?" she tentatively asked. "I've been confused about that greatly."
He raised an eyebrow. "Confused?"
"You're only twenty three," she reminded him. "How old is this son of yours?"
Sinmir's eyes glazed over and seemed to grow very far away.
"Was," he said softly. "Not is... was."
Ella felt a little confused until... until the meaning of his words hit her.
She felt the blood run from her face and blinked, looking at him blankly.
"Was?" she asked, feeling the first touches of shock. "You don't mean..."
"He's dead," Sinmir said thickly, eyes misting over for a moment before he regained himself. "It happened a year and two months ago."
Ella's mouth dropped.
"How old was he?" she whispered. "Sinmir... you're still very young yourself! How can this be?"
"He hadn't even seen his fourth winter," the prince chuckled weakly. "I'm sure you heard about the woman I chose to marry. It was years ago, but the rumors were everywhere."
She blinked, vaguely recalling some gossip from many, many years ago about the prince of the neighboring kingdom choosing a legless elf from a servant's family as his wife, but she hadn't believed them for an instant. They'd been too outrageous for her to take seriously.
"I have," she said slowly. "Those rumors... they were true?"
"Indeed," Sinmir agreed, giving her a colder look. "I was sixteen when I chose to marry her, but the formal announcement for our engagement came weeks after my proposal. By that point, we had already... well, I'm sure you know. She was carrying my child."
Ella could only listen.
"She gave birth to my son only a month before we were to be married," he said softly, pacing back and forth with a dangerous glint falling across his eyes. "Three days before the wedding, she was murdered by someone. I was devastated, but my son needed me, and I knew, knew, that I had to protect him. My boy... my halfling child. He was beautiful, flawless, my pride and joy."
He clenched his fists, and an expression of rage slid across his mouth.
With little warning, he turned and punched the wall, making her jump.
"Sinmir!" she exclaimed. "Calm yourself!"
"How can I remain calm?" he spat, whipping around in fury; she balked, since the look in his eyes had become frightening. "How can I remain calm when the one who killed my wife, and my child, is skulking around somewhere within this country?! He killed my wife! My son!"
Ella's blood ran cold when he looked at her in a strange manner.
"When I first met you," he said slowly, "I truly believed that you may have been the one."
"Eh?!" she squeaked, eyes widening in horror. "Sinmir, no! How could you think that?!"
"You tortured an innocent lad without batting an eyelash and kept him locked in a cage designed to hold wild animals, for weeks," he reminded her. "Someone that ruthless could easily take the life of a child, or a defenseless woman who couldn't even run away on her own power."
Her heart almost broke.
She felt betrayed by his words, for the ones he'd said earlier still lingered in her ears.
"But, I was wrong," he said softly, shaking his head. "The more I spent time watching you, the more I noticed that you were very inexperienced, and at a stretch, afraid of everything. Your anger is a shield that covers your fear."
Ella swallowed, then decided to ask, "you... say this, but... how, exactly, does Xaphile remind you of your son? I don't understand. He's sixteen years old, Sinmir. He's not a child."
"It's the color and even the shape of his eyes," the man chuckled weakly. "That unique shade of blue-green... the exotic, slightly-upturned shape... his eyes are similar to my boy's. I look at his face, and as I see him for who he is, I can't... I can't fathom it. It angers me."
"Fathom what?" Ella tentatively asked, making her way forward and looking up at him.
"How his father couldn't love him," Sinmir said, swallowing hard. "I might have understood it had Xaphile been someone terrible, but... he's not. He's so gentle, so... kind, and he hurts, so deeply, because he wasn't loved the way he should have been. The way he deserved."
Ella was beginning to understand why Sinmir had chosen to stay with their group.
And while it warmed her heart a little, a piece of it also broke a little, too.
"I see," she murmured, letting loose a sigh. "You remain by his side because you see your son when you look at him, and when you see him hurting, it hurts you, too."
"No," Sinmir instantly retorted, offended, "When I look at him, I see a boy who wasn't loved by his father, and I can see the sort of damage that did to him. But that's not why I'm still here." "
"Then, why are you?"
"Because I've come to love him," the prince said simply. "I love him, Ella, as much as a man can love a child that isn't his own. When we first met, I was almost perfectly convinced that he was a demon because he never smiled, until an incident in Calcoon."
"What incident?"
"I took a tumble and fell in the mud," Sinmir muttered, "and for whatever reason, the sight sent him into a fit of hysterical laughter. It was the only time I've ever seen him laugh like that, and it made me realize just how lost and unhappy he really is. Vrael is a sweet lad and I care for him, but he has a family of his own, and a father of his own, that he can always go back to."
"Xaphile has his uncle," she instantly pointed out, but Sinmir merely scowled.
"Vordt doesn't cherish him the way he truly needs," he sourly muttered. "I hate the bastard with everything inside me. He's one of the lowest men I've ever had the displeasure of meeting."
Ella was shocked by that.
"Wait, what?" she asked, holding up her hands. "What do you mean? He's... apologized to all of us, and he's even trying to mend things between himself and Xaphile."
"It's not enough," Sinmir countered, giving her a look. "Don't you see the way Xaphile acts whenever he's given even the barest hint of kindness by him? It's like he soaks it up, like he's desperate for the approval that never comes. He waits, and waits, but Vordt never gives it!"
She wanted to protest and say that he was wrong, but the truth was, he was right. She had noticed the same thing whenever Vordt had been around... it was like, Xaphile was walking on eggshells, trying his hardest to make his uncle see his true self and accept him.
The slightest kind word could make his eyes light up.
Every rebuttal made those same boy's eyes look like he was afraid everything would fall apart.
Like he was expecting the man to turn on him, or walk away forever.
"There is also another reason that I have chosen to stay," Sinmir said, drawing her eyes. "I truly believe that if I remain here, with all of you, that I might find my son's killer."
Ella jumped, alarmed.
"What?!" she scoffed. "Why would you think such a thing?!"
"Think about it for a moment," he said slowly, narrowing his eyes. "An elf woman was publicly betrothed to the human prince of Adanac, and they even had a child. The King of the country south of them was outraged for a long while, even trying to declare that prince's actions as a slight to his way of doing things. Tensions rise, arguments are held, and three days before the wedding, the woman is found with her throat cut and a breadflower in her mouth."
Her blood ran cold when she realized the implications.
"Then, years later, the prince leaves the castle on his father's orders to attend a ball," Sinmir continued, mace twitching, "and returns to find his only child dead in the same manner, with a breadflower in his mouth."
"They were assassinated," Ella whispered, finally understanding the truth.
"And who do you think," Sinmir said slowly, fixing her with a sharp stare, "would be so against interracial marriages and halflings that he would kill the wife and child of a neighboring kingdom's future ruler?"
The answer was plain as day.
"King Osric," she breathed, feeling dizzy with horror. "Oh, Gods... do you think he...?"
"I don't know, and that is why I left my kingdom to travel through yours anonymously," he growled, cracking his neck. "I have many reasons for staying with you kids. First, I believe I can find out the truth of my family's destruction if I do, second, Xaphile needs someone to show him that he's loved and worth loving, and third, I refuse to watch history repeat itself again."
Ella blinked. "What?"
"You heard me," he grunted. "This situation is different than how my own life was, but the danger is all too real, and should a threat show its face, it'll meet my blade before it can so much as touch a single one of you kids. The freedom to love cannot and should not be restricted."
"I agree," Ella said simply. "But do you really think its wise to remain with us?"
"Why wouldn't I?" Sinmir questioned, giving her a strange look. "You have a girl who's father went missing while in service to the crown, you have a halfling who's lived his whole life in some freezing mountain range because he can't be free as things are, you have a primordial faery who's little brother was illegally taken from your lands, and then there's you, a young ruler who made many mistakes but wishes to correct them. You know that this country needs to change!"
"True, but without Xaphile or Adariel's aid," Ella whispered, "i have no power to challenge the king. The only ones who can stand up to him are the faeries of this land!"
"And that is the first of my last two reasons for staying," Sinmir said. "I want to help guide him down the right path, because he is, for lack of a better way to put it, the Ruler of Nimika. He doesn't fully realize the sort of political power that he holds just yet."
Ella nodded, digesting everything with a numb feeling deep inside her.
"And what's the last reason?" she asked.
Sinmir sighed, closing his eyes.
"I'm engaged to his aunt, the Queen of Calcoon," he admitted. "There will come a time when I will have to publicly announce it to my father, and it is going to cause a lot of chaos within Aerika as a whole. At this point, I have no choice but to remain with your group."
Ella felt her head swim and she stumbled backwards.
Shock made thinking hard to do.
"You're... marrying... that faery woman?!" she gasped, heaving for air. "Gods above..."
It took her a very long time to compose herself.
Sinmir looked a little dismayed.
"I'm sorry for not informing you sooner," he said quietly. "I didn't think you would take well to it."
"You were right," Ella instantly countered, then closed her eyes, "but not for the reasons you think. I am worried that this information might end up putting all of us, including Xaphile's aunt and the faeries of the east, in harm's way if it were disclosed to anyone too soon."
"Hence why I'm holding my silence," Sinmir chuckled, then turned stern. "Tomorrow, no matter what, Adariel is going to be rescued. You and I are going to remain strong for Xaphile... and we're going to help him, and his brother, get through this in any way that we can. His possessive side is beginning to show itself already, Ella... pay close attention to him. See if he's what you want."
When he turned to walk past her towards the latrine, however, she snatched his arm.
His footsteps halted.
"I don't know about you," she said without looking at him, "but I honestly don't have a problem with him being possessive towards me. His wild instincts drive him. I know that."
"Are you certain?" Sinmir asked, staring straight ahead. "Are you truly certain you understand?"
"I know what possessive men are like," Ella countered, smirking slyly. "I am not as naive as you may think, Sinmir. While other women may find such lack of freedom smothering, I believe that with trust and communication, everything will work out."
"How can you be sure?"
"Because," Ella said, finally giving him a slightly embarrassed glance, "I... I want to be possessed by him. I want to be his and his alone. His territorial nature is something I find... attractive."
It was hard to admit it.
Sinmir looked shocked at first, but then his face relaxed and he smiled a little.
"Well, then, perhaps I was worried over nothing," he mused. "I had assumed you were one who hated to be controlled. Your behavior and everything about you screams that you demand to remain independent and free to make your own choices no matter the cost."
"I never said I wouldn't be independent," Ella corrected, moving towards the door. "I simply don't mind his possessiveness. Like I said moments ago, trust and communication works... if his nature becomes annoying in the future, I'll simply have to compromise to make it less so."
Sinmir raised an eyebrow. "You would do that?"
Ella paused with her hand on the knob.
"For him?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder with a smile. "I would do anything."
She then left Sinmir standing there amongst the shattered mirrors.
Thinking about what she'd learned.