A Deal with the Elf King (Married to Magic, #1)(39)

“You speak of things you don’t understand.” He looks back to the stone grimly. “Our only hope is to preserve this arrangement as long as possible.” He mumbles under his breath, “Which may not be possible for much longer…”

His hesitation gives me hope. “And you know this because you’ve looked for an alternative?”

He sighs dramatically. “Luella, I know you look at me and see a regular man—”

“Nothing about you is regular,” I say quickly. His lips part briefly and the severe expression vanishes from his face, making him all the more handsome. I purse my lips together and fight a stirring I don’t want to have when looking at Eldas.

“You see me as a mortal,” he rephrases. “But my power stretches beyond your imagination.” He motions to the stone he was examining. “This is a keystone of the Fade. Do you even know what that means?”

I shake my head.

“It’s the cornerstone of Midscape, a foundation for the Fade. Can you see its power?”

I shake my head again.

“Can you comprehend the intricate magic woven all around you, tethered to this rock? Magic that splits worlds?”

“No.” He opens his mouth to speak again, but I’m faster. “Can you comprehend what it sounds like to have a thousand, a hundred thousand, millions of living things screaming for you? Can you imagine what it’s like to have the earth clawing under your skin, scraping your bones for life and power? Will your mind recreate the torture of knowing they would gladly eat you alive if given the chance?”

He blinks. There’s that slightly startled expression once more. I’m finding I like the softer, unguarded side of him much more than the severe edge. If I can just keep him off balance maybe we could get somewhere…

“You’re right,” I continue. “I can’t comprehend your magic because, as you put it, I am your antithesis. But that means you can’t understand mine, either. And maybe none of the other kings ever gave their queens a chance to really explore their power. Perhaps there’s something I can make, or do, like your keystone, that would tether Midscape’s seasons to the Natural World’s without a Human Queen. Hmm?”

He says nothing as his expression hardens once more into something passive and unreadable.

“All I’m saying is…give me a chance—a real chance,” I beg. “What do we have to lose?”

“Everything, if we’re not careful.” There’s not a hint of levity in his voice.

“Then help me. My power, your knowledge, we can do this together if you let us.”

Eldas’s lips press firmly into a line. I search the deep waters of his eyes—search for something human. I have no reason to think he’d help me. But I have to at least make an attempt. I owe Capton that much.

“Why is this so important to you?” he asks, finally. There’s a trace of hurt. It’s the shadow of something lurking in the deeper currents of his personality. I think about what Rinni said—about him secluding himself. “Help me understand.”

Here’s hoping he listens.

“I had a life. You’re right, I’m not like all the other queens. I wasn’t groomed for you, for any of this. I had my own dreams and plans. I had people who depended on me and I swore to protect and serve them as best I could. They gave their precious little coin for my education and I gave my skills, my years. Capton needs me just as much as Midscape does; I’m the only herbalist they have.

“So maybe that’s why none of those other queens dared to question if there was a way out. They didn’t have any expectations to be anything other than what they were because they were identified as queens young enough that being the queen was their dream. But I’m not them. I am questioning for myself and every other young woman who comes after me.”

The king looks between me and the stone, as if he’s choosing either me or the world he’s always known. I don’t even bother holding my breath. I know what he’ll pick and it’s not my wild idea.

And then…

“All right,” he says.

“What?” I gasp.

“I agree to let you pursue this.”

“Truly?” I round over to his side. “You mean it genuinely? No more agreeing to teach me and then acting like a right ass?”

He cringes but nods. There’s an urge to take his hand and squeeze it, almost like I would do to a friend. But I quench the notion before my body can act on it.

“There are terms to this deal.” He regards me warily.

“Of course there are.” Still, this is progress. “What are they?”

“The first is that you must keep me appraised of your work. You might not care about Midscape’s fate, but I am its sworn warden.”

“I never said I didn’t care—”

“I will not have you accidentally unraveling the fabric of my world,” he finishes, completely ignoring my objection.

“Fine, that’s fair.” Not like I wanted to do any unraveling.

“Furthermore—”

“Oh, there’s more, shocking.” I fold my arms. Is that the ghost of a smirk I see on his lips? I’m rewarded once more with a twinge of amusement, bolder than the last. If he keeps giving me sly smiles and shimmering eyes I’m going to think he’s beginning to like a determined and slightly bold Luella.