A Deal with the Elf King (Married to Magic, #1)(82)

“Where are we?” Gravel crunches under my feet as I step down.

The carriage is parked at the apex of a wide arc of a lane. Tall hedges round all sides and continue along the edges of what I assume is all a single piece of property. They stretch down one side of a tree-lined road.

In front of us is a quaint cottage. The thatched roof is in good condition and the wide porch in front has been freshly sanded and repainted. There’s the same tang in the air that the temple has every midsummer when the Keepers spruce it up before celebrations.

“This is yours,” Eldas says, guiding me forward. As we walk away, the footman gets back in the driver’s seat and spurs forward the horses attached to the carriage. “There’s a town only about an hour’s drive away,” Eldas answers my unspoken question. “The footman will stay there since there’s not room for him here.”

“I see…” No servants. No attendants. Alone with Eldas in the middle of rolling hills and creeping forests nestled against the shade of a mountain that almost reminds me of home.

“Go ahead,” he encourages, motioning to the door as we walk up onto the porch. “It’s yours, after all.”

“You keep saying that.” My hand hovers on the doorknob. “But what do you mean?”

“This is the queen’s cottage.” Eldas smiles proudly. “It was gifted three queens before you as a private escape for Her Majesty. Close enough to Quinnar that you can make the trip within a day. Far enough that it feels like an escape. And, as I mentioned earlier, no need to depend on a king’s Fadewalking to get you here. However, myself and past kings have put up strong wards around this place, so even though it is away from the castle, it is just as safe.”

I open the door and behold the most adorable cottage I have ever laid eyes on.

It’s like the oil paintings I would see sometimes in the Lanton markets of idyllic countrysides, promising a world most people never know. Wide beams stretch across the ceiling. I see hooks for drying herbs lining each of them, begging for greenery. The downstairs is split by a center staircase. To the left is a kitchen of large brass pots and ruddy tile; the right is a living area with seating framing a large hearth.

The wood of the banister glides smoothly under my fingers as I head upstairs. The second floor is smaller than the first and I see immediately why Eldas said there was no room for the footman. This is another single room…with a single bed.

“What do you think?” Eldas asks as I appraise the quilted blanket covering the bed.

“There’s only one bed.”

My remark is met with roaring laughter. “Don’t worry, I’ll be sleeping downstairs.” He smiles, oblivious to the twinge of disappointment that stabs my side. I try to ignore the sensation too.

“But, shouldn’t you—”

“I slept on the couch as a boy when I would visit Alice here.” He starts downstairs again. As I follow, I notice that my bag and an extra trunk were carried up here and his things are situated in the corner of the living room.

“But you’re not a boy anymore.”

“And yet, I’ve still slept on a couch for you before.”

I think back to the settee. “I didn’t ask you to.”

“You were weak after the throne and I was worried. What if you needed something? What if the throne sapped more power than we thought?”

I don’t have a response, especially after how I was the first time I sat on the throne.

“You didn’t need to ask me to look after you. I should have been doing a better job of it all along.”

“I never thanked you for that.”

“You never needed to thank me.”

“Thank you,” I insist on saying anyway.

“You’re welcome.” The smile that graces his lips is brief but warm. He looks out to the doors that line the back of the cottage. “Unfortunately, I think the grounds will be more impressive in the daytime. Shall we turn in for the night?”

“I’m still a little tired,” I admit. Gone are the days when a long nap could keep me up all night.

“That is why we’re here, so you can rest. Past queens have said they find this place rejuvenating.”

“I’m sure it will be. But I don’t think I’ll be able to quiet my mind enough for bed yet.” My thoughts are still pinned on Eldas and me here, in a scenic spot, together, alone…with one bed.

“Then perhaps a nightcap of some sweet wine will help dull any racing thoughts?” Eldas heads into the kitchen.

“Wine, not mead?” I cross over, resting my elbows on the worn butcher’s block countertop. I’m momentarily entranced by Eldas rolling up his sleeves to his elbows, exposing muscular forearms beneath.

“Faeries make mead. Elves make wine. And it’s a crime you’ve yet to try the latter.” Eldas gives a wink. A wink. I have to sit on one of the stools so I don’t fall over with shock. Is this the same Elf King I met weeks ago? Gone is the marble and here is the man and all his glory. I hope he stays.

“Well, whose fault is that?” I ask playfully.

“Yet more blame you can lay at my feet. I will need a lifetime to make up for my previous transgressions against you.” But I only have a few more weeks, I hear unsaid.

Eldas retrieves a dusty bottle from a lower wine rack. He moves nimbly through the kitchen. He knows exactly where the corkscrew and glasses are. His movements opening the wine are fluid, as though he’s performed this task a hundred times.