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I glance at the table, then meet his expectant gaze.

My heart thunders in my ears, and giddy nerves soon descend.

It’s difficult not to feel touched by the fact that he wants to get to know me.

Lord Nevel didn’t care to know me. Not really.

He only cared for one thing, and I paid the price when he couldn’t obtain it.

At last, I rise to my feet. As I face my captor, I’m forced to crane my neck just to peer up at him. Gods, he’s tall. About three full heads taller than me. If I had to guess, I would say he weighed four times as much as me. His shoulders are broad, and his muscles are massive.

He holds out a hand. “Join me?”

I sense his hope that I’ll take his hand. I also sense his genuine desire to converse with me over the meal. He wasn’t lying when he claimed he wanted to get to know me better.

I exhale slowly and stare at his hand, tempted to accept it but also anxious.

His hands are so very large, and if he wanted to, he could easily hurt me.

In the early hours of morning, I’d watched him strangle a human soldier with just one of those hands.

He’d held the man up as though he weighed nothing and choked the life out of him.

I search the emotions that are billowing outward from General Dalgaard. Tristan. But I don’t sense any deceit or cruelty. He’s not trying to trick me. He’s not pretending to be kind just to later visit violence upon me. At least not now.

“Amelia?” His tone is encouraging, and he continues holding his hand out. Though I sense his struggle to remain patient, there’s truly no viciousness brimming within him, which is surprising for a fae male. His people aren’t known for patience, particularly highborn fae.

I draw in a deep breath and finally place my tiny hand in his much larger one.

The awareness that passed between us earlier when our fingers touched not only resurfaces, but it ignites to a full-blown inferno of need.

I almost retract my hand. Almost. Instead, I summon bravery and continue examining his emotions.

Warmth. Arousal. Pleasure. He’s overjoyed that I willingly placed my hand in his. He’s delighted to be touching me.

He guides me to the table, then releases my hand and pulls out a chair for me.

Disbelief reverberates through me, and I’m unable to suppress a small gasp.

No male has ever behaved so gentlemanly toward me.

I search my memories but can’t recall a single time a man ever pulled out a chair for me, and I flush as I finally take a seat.

I’m hyper aware of Tristan’s large form hovering behind me as he pushes my chair up to the table. I’m his war prize, but thus far, he’s treating me like a female he’s courting. It doesn’t make sense, but perhaps I shouldn’t complain.

For the umpteenth time in his presence, my breath catches as he moves to the side but leans close as he removes the cover from my plate and sets it aside. I mourn the loss of his warmth when he settles in his chair across from me.

The delicious aroma of the food finally catches my attention, and I glance down to find a roasted turkey leg, fried squash, boiled potatoes, and something green and round for which I don’t have a name, a vegetable that must be native to the fae lands.

The plate also holds a small bowl of some sort of berry cobbler.

I don’t have a name for the berries either, though I recognize them from the forest. More than once, I’d enjoyed a handful for breakfast as I made my way north to Glenville.

“It looks delicious. Thank you.” I smile at Tristan as he lifts the lid off his own plate. It feels so natural sitting across from him, as though we’ve shared a thousand meals before.

He picks up a fork, and I do the same. “I hope you like it. If you don’t, I will be happy to have the servants fetch an alternative meal. Whatever you desire, Amelia, I want you to feel comfortable asking. I won’t deny you anything. Within reason, of course.”

“I’m sure it’ll be delicious,” I say as I gather a bit of the fried squash onto my fork. “An alternative meal won’t be necessary.” Besides, I would hate to make the servants do extra work on my account. I would prefer to do what I can to make their lives easier.

We eat in silence for a few minutes, and it’s the best meal I’ve had in ages. The food is seasoned to perfection, and the fae-berry cobbler is perhaps the most scrumptious dessert I’ve ever tasted.

Tristan leans back in his chair and waves his hand.

I’m about to ask what he’s doing when two wine glasses float toward the table.

Moments later, a bottle of wine floats over too, and the items land gently near our plates.

Fae magic. I’d witnessed some magic in the banquet hall, though I never really got used to it.

Each time I would witness some fantastical act in the Sorsston castle, particularly a violent one, I would be left reeling with disbelief.

“Are you all right, sweet human?” He uncorks the bottle and pours us each a generous serving of wine.

I accept my glass and nod. “Yes, I’m fine. I-I was just thinking about all the magic I witnessed in the Sorsston castle. Like the time a fae soldier caused a servant to choke on his own spit, and the time another soldier made it rain in the banquet hall.”

His eyebrows lift ever so slightly, and he raises his wine glass and swirls the contents. “If humans suddenly possessed magic, don’t you think a great many of them would use it to commit acts of violence and mischief?”

I take a quick sip of wine. “If I possessed magic, I would only use my powers for good. Like the fae who can make things grow. I would help gardens and crops grow faster. And if I could make it rain like that soldier in the Sorsston castle, I would make it rain when there’s a drought.

” My mind races with all the other possibilities.

What a pity the gods have wasted magic on such cruel-hearted creatures as the fae.

A smile tugs at Tristan’s lips. “I wish I could see you wield fae powers, sweet human. If only I could transfer some of mine to you, I would do so in a heartbeat. Just to see the delight in your eyes when you made crops grow fast and tall, or when you called rain from the skies.”

I take another sip of wine. It’s good. Too good. I need to pace myself and make sure I don’t become tipsy in the general’s presence. I’ve been known to become rather chatty when I’ve consumed too much alcohol. “Can you make crops grow faster, and can you make it rain?”

“I’m able to influence plant growth, yes, but I’ve never succeeded in making it rain.

The powers an individual highborn fae possesses are largely dependent upon which courts the fae’s ancestors hail from.

My father and all his ancestors came from the Summer Court, while my mother’s side was mostly from the Spring Court.

It’s thanks to my mother’s side that I’m able to influence plant growth.

” He sets his wine glass down and makes a sweeping gesture with both hands, and suddenly the tent becomes a beautiful, ussha-blessed forest at nighttime.

Or maybe we’re no longer in the tent. Maybe he actually transported us into the forest. The table and chairs remain, however, and I look around and try to glimpse the walls of the tent, but I can’t make the barrier out. It truly appears that we’re in the middle of the forest.

He leans forward and the glow of the fruit-bearing trees bathes his face in purple and blue. His eyes sparkle in the darkness, and my heart skips a beat at how ethereally handsome he looks. His hair is swept back over his shoulders, his pointed ears on display.

“I’m able to create a summer atmosphere, nighttime or daytime, though I usually prefer the night.” He snaps his fingers and fireflies glitter all around the space. He snaps his fingers again and the song of locusts, crickets, and trilling frogs echoes in the forest. Or the tent. Wherever we are.

“What else can you do?” I’m so curious about his powers that I can’t help but ask. Even though I don’t want to get to know him in return. At least that’s what I keep telling myself.

He waves his hand, and the nighttime forest disappears, and we’re seated in the regular tent as though nothing just happened.

The abrupt silence is startling. “As you already know, I can summon an invisibility shield and flash from one location to another, short distances, mind you. I’m also able to create strong wards, and I can break through most wards created by other highborn fae.

Prince Lucas never found out that I passed through his wards and kept watch over you in his room that night. ”

“It sounds like you’re more powerful than most highborn fae.” Not that there was ever any doubt. Any fae who holds the rank of general must be among the most powerful of his kind.

He grins. “Well, I don’t mean to brag, but yes, I am among the most powerful.

” He reaches for his wine and takes a leisurely sip, then sets the glass aside and regards me with a look that’s far too inquisitive for my liking.

Before he next speaks, I already know what he’s about to say.

“I’m supposed to be learning about you, sweet human, not the other way around. Please, tell me more about yourself.”