Broken Dove (Fantasyland #4)(165)

“Chris doesn’t wear a hat,” she pointed out.

I approached her and stopped when I was close.

I bent slightly at my knees as well as at the waist to get closer and stated, “He should. He should stay warm and healthy just like you and me. But he’s a boy and boys have reasons for not doing things like that. Reasons we girls will never understand, no matter how hard we try. But we just have to be smart and do such thing as wear hats when it’s cold and be even smarter and when boys do things that make no sense, just let them do it. It’ll be their price to pay in the end if they have a stuffy nose. Am I right?”

“Chris gets grumpy when he gets a stuffy nose,” she informed me.

“We all do, honey bunch,” I returned.

“Not me.” She smiled. “That means I don’t have to go to the school room. I can lie in bed and Bella will bring me flavored ices for my throat if it hurts and Papa will come up and read me stories.”

Only Élan would find the silver lining of having a cold.

“I bet you’d prefer being outside making snow castles,” I told her and she screwed up her face.

It cleared and she said, “Bella gives me flavored ices even when my throat doesn’t hurt and Papa reads me stories too. So having that and being able to make snow castles is better.”

I was glad she had come to that conclusion even if I didn’t like suddenly having the vision of Apollo reading stories to his daughter in my head. It reminded me of how wonderful he was which could make me forget when he was not.

That had happened in the early days with Pol too. He’d do something awful then revert to the Pol I fell in love with and I’d forget. In the end, before I gave up the effort, I made myself forget.

Then, eventually there was enough bad that no amount of good could erase it.

If you put up with it, they dished it out.

Apollo was not Pol. I knew this completely.

The fact still remained that if you put up with it, they were going to dish it out.

And it got worse.

I’d put up with it from Apollo.

He’d again dished it out.

And it got worse.

I stopped thinking these dire thoughts when I felt Élan grab my hand and tug.

“You sit here, next to Ariel,” she instructed, sitting me next to a doll with a crown and a very pretty knit dress the likes of which I had several of in my wardrobe.

But as she moved me, I caught something out of the corner of my eye and spied Christophe peeking just his head around the door.

My body gave a start as my eyes caught his. He was watching us and I couldn’t know how long he’d been there. I also couldn’t ask for before I could say a word or even smile, he disappeared.

I drew in a breath as I let Élan seat me next to Ariel (not an easy task seeing as the chairs were not even half as tall as normal chairs) and my eyes drifted back to the door as she chattered and fake poured tea from an exquisite china teapot (that also wasn’t half the size of a normal teapot).

Chris did not show.

I took this as a sign that whatever Apollo was doing with Chris wasn’t working.

Once I processed that and let the heavy weight of it settle around my heart, I set it aside and turned my full attention to Élan.

She wanted me here; she had me here. And not with me moping or stuck in my head, worried about my life, Apollo or Christophe.

I’d sit through hundreds of tea parties.

I’d do it smiling.

And for Élan, those smiles would be genuine.

Every time.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Remember This Kiss

Thirty minutes later, Bella bustled into the room, shooting a smile my way but ending our tea party with, “Your tutor says you have writing to practice, little miss. Time to put away the teapot. You can finish whatever you were discussing at dinner tonight.”

Fat chance that would happen.

For two nights I’d dined with Meeta, Loretta and Cristiana in the kitchen at the dower house.

They were good company (the jury was out on whether or not I was). But this meant for the first time in weeks I’d dined without Apollo and the kids.

I missed that too.

And he didn’t blink in taking that from me either.

Completely at his mercy.

Ignoring the pout Élan aimed her way, Bella went on. “And, Miss Maddie, Lord Apollo has sent word that he’d like you to attend him in his study when your party with Élan was done.”

Or maybe it wasn’t a fat chance dinner would happen.

Then again, it was at Apollo’s whim whether it would or wouldn’t.

Not to mention, I really had no choice of whether I would attend him in his study or not.

As all this settled in my head, I felt something strange bubble up inside me. It wasn’t a bad strange. It wasn’t a good strange. It was something I never felt before.

It was a nothing strange.

I didn’t think on it as Élan gave me a hug and when she let me go, I bent down to kiss her cheek.

I pulled away and whispered, “Ask me again. That was fun.”

She gave me one of her sweet smiles, a smile, for some reason, that I committed to memory like I wanted to file it away so I could call it up whenever I wanted, right before she chirped, “I will. We’ll do it tomorrow! And we’ll ask Frey to come!”