Page 15

Chapter Fifteen

T he hayride was magical, rolling through fields while flocks of startled fireflies flared up around us and the stars fell overhead. My brother had wanted his wedding on the biggest shower of the year, just so the hayride would be magical without using any magic.

I was sitting next to Cross on the bench, holding the reins because he had no idea how to drive the ponies that pulled our wagon. We’d dropped off the last little kid and were heading home when I nudged him.

“Your dad’s an elf lord? What was my dad exiled for?”

“Yes, and using his magic unethically.”

“My dad used his magic unethically? Impossible. Now I know you’re lying.”

“He went through a rough patch after he lost his family in the great war. His magic is still bound.”

“You really believe that. Unreal. Tell me more about your elf lord father. And mother. Did you really run away from home? Why did they let you go? Aren’t elf children precious and rare?”

“Yes, I don’t know, and yes.”

I squinted at him while the ponies tugged on my reins. “If you didn’t want to talk about your origin story, why did you give my father your real name?”

“It’s traditional to do so when courting. I could have given him another name, but it would have to be somebody’s, and my looks, my size, they are distinctly Silvaniustro.”

“Now you’re a traditional elf? Then why can’t you drive a pony cart? Come on. You can’t go through your life not knowing how to do something so essential.” I handed him the reins and the ponies immediately stopped moving. It’s like they could tell they were dealing with a novice.

“Now what?” he asked.

I looked up at him and then at the ponies. “Now, we get out and stretch our legs. Do you know the dance of the fireflies?”

“You’re messing with me.”

“Maybe. Still, the ponies are going to sit there being fat and lazy until we show them that we don’t care.”

He raised an incredulous brow. “This is the psychological warfare you wage each time you take a pony?”

“Basically. Come on, Cross. Oh, make sure to apply the brake on the wagon wheel, or they’ll take off once we’re immersed in the dance.”

He sighed and then followed me down, fiddling with the wagon wheel for a moment before he came towards me where I bent over in the field, taking off my shoes.

“Do I have to take off my shoes?”

“Only if you have a secret streak of gnome. So, the dance is a basic Elden Flawry, which if you’re really an elven lord, you would know. Of course, there are some differences, but not really noticeable for the male.”

“That’s a lot of lifting you up and throwing you in the air.”

I laughed and spun around like a gnome-elf who lacked grace and earthiness. “I can tell this is going to be a disaster. I always wanted to have a disaster in a beet field.”

“Indeed,” he said and then threw a handful of dust into the air, and suddenly, everything was music. The rush of wind, the shifting ponies and the creak of leather, and all the glorious fireflies, everything was in perfect time that matched the beating of my heart.

I stared at his shadowy form as he started moving, grace, beauty, and danger as he turned then took my hand and pulled me into the dance. My father wasn’t ever forceful, but Cross’s dance wasn’t the same as my father’s or my brother’s. His hand held mine with a firmness that moved into flirty territory as our palms slid together and apart.

The picking me up and throwing me didn’t happen. He picked me up by the waist, raising me up high, but instead of continuing the arc, he stopped when we were eye level and held me like that, my pounding heart against his chest, his hands pulling me against him far too tight.

“Did you forget the dance?” I whispered when it seemed like I’d been staring at him for too long.

“I haven’t done this since I was a child. There was no throwing. What if I throw you too hard and break your neck?”

I laughed breathlessly while the song of his night magic sang in my ear. “Then you should probably put me down.”

“But you’re barefoot, and might step on something disagreeable.”

I cocked my head and studied him. “In that case, we should definitely stay here all night, just like this.”

“Don’t you think I’ll get tired?”

“Of course not. You’re an elven lord. You were born for this.”

“I’m not an elven lord. My father is not what I am.”

“The lines of nobility come from the strength of their magic. If you have the magic, you have the nobility.”

“Your father’s magic was very strong. His house was noble.”

“You’re subtly saying that I’m the one who should be holding you in the air during this brilliant dance. Don’t tempt me. You would make such a pretty pet. My beast would throw you, too.”

He slowly lowered me to the ground and headed back to the wagon, leaving me standing there, staring after him and his abrupt abandonment. It’s like he didn’t want to think about dancing with my beast. That made two of us. Two out of four wasn’t bad. I quickly pulled on my shoes and followed him.

He waited by the wagon, then lifted me up to set me on the bench, like it was still part of the dance. “Your strength came back to you?” I asked, waiting for him to release the brake and swing up beside me.

“If I were courting you in earnest, we would stay in that field all night.”

The ponies were walking, slowly at first, then picking up speed. “But you’re the best at playing a part, so why did you stop dancing?”

“I’m not sure how to play the part while maintaining a respectful distance.”

“Ah. That does sound difficult.” I patted his knee. “Don’t worry. We couldn’t spend all night in the field, because my brothers would come and find us. Did you meet Bram? He’s the worst. He’d sit and talk to you until you were desperate to escape. You’d say anything, just to stop. The. Talking.”

“He sounds like a truly ominous figure.”

“Absolutely. Do you want to try to drive the ponies again?”

“I suppose I should learn something so essential.”

I handed over the reins and then put my head on his shoulder. They were just the right height, and broad, firm, no boniness in sight. I closed my eyes and let the music sweep over me that still trailed from his magic. What a strange, subtle spell for an assassin to learn: how to make the night into music. He was like that, though, particularly at night in his garden. He was music in the night.

When we reached the barn, my brothers were there, including Bram, the oldest.

“Delphi,” he said warmly, pulling me off the wagon and into a hug. “You’re too skinny. Go inside while we help your Cross with the ponies.”

I stared into those warm brown eyes. “Be gentle with him. He’s an elf.”

He snorted and set me on my feet. “He’s got to prove his mettle. He can’t do that if we’re too easy on him.”

I glanced at Cross where he’d swung down and was examining the leather reins. “Will you be okay?” I asked, but I wasn’t worried about my brothers being too rough. If he was a night lord, bred for brutality, they might be in danger from him. Of course they were. He was the leader of the House of Mercy. And to think I’d tried to get him to dance with me in a beet field. What was wrong with me?

Cross took me in his arms while I was still feeling like an idiot, pressed a kiss to my forehead, and then released me, so I stumbled back. “Good night, Delphinia. Dream well.”

My brothers chortled and elbowed each other. “Oh, he’s smooth. Delphi’s blushing!” and, “What kind of dreams make you blush that hard?”

I turned and left the barn before I killed all my brothers. Or Cross. He was playing the role of suitor, but not too much because he didn’t want me to get confused, but I was anyway. I hated him. But sometimes, I almost liked him, too. There was nothing more dangerous than liking someone who could hurt you that much.

The next day was spent cooking and cleaning and avoiding my mother’s subtle observations about how beautiful Cross’s babies would be. Happily, she never said that while he was in obvious hearing distance. Even my father helped with the dinner preparations, which was convenient because no one peeled root vegetables as quickly as he did. I think that was the basis for my mother’s romance.

Finally, everything was set on the tables in the orchard, the cherries heavy in the trees above the dozens of long tables draped in fruit and flowers. Bram had been building them for the last six months along with the rough metal chandeliers hanging from all the lowest branches.

It was breathtaking, and standing on the side, greeting the guests with the rest of my family was less awkward than I expected, mostly thanks to Cross who was available at a table so my mother could point at him when she said my name, so no one thought I was the pathetic outcast who couldn’t get a date because no gnome would ever be with a female taller than him.

The most awkward moment was when Bram’s best friend growing up came along and gave me a big hug that lasted a little longer than it should have. He was handsome enough for a gnome, all jolly, brawny, with a healthy tan and full thick hair, but I didn’t register it the same as the last time I’d seen him. He wasn’t more handsome than Max or any other attractive werewolf that I wasn’t interested in dating. The most appealing thing about him was the cozy world he would build with whatever happy gnome he settled down with. My pool house was adorable enough for any gnome. If only it had an oven. Not that I was moving back into Cross’s pool house.

When we sat down and began the long process of eating, toasts, and breaking out in spontaneous song and dance, Cross leaned closer to me.

“Are you all right?”

“How difficult do you think it would be to put an oven in the pool house?”

His brows raised over his stunning violet eyes. He was so out of place with all the gnomes, like my father, the two oaks in a grove of plum trees. “I’ve never put an oven in a pool house, so I can’t say. I don’t imagine it would be much more difficult than putting in a regular kind of house. That’s what you’re thinking about at your brother’s wedding? Not that it would be nice to marry a jolly gnome and have the world’s most adorable wedding beneath the cherry trees?”

I glanced around to make sure no one was listening to us. My mother was talking to her sister loudly about the proper seasoning in mulled wine. My father was on her other side, discussing a new propagation technique for asparagus with our closest neighbor.

“No. Such dreams are vain. Didn’t you know that a gnome can’t marry a woman taller than he is?”

He looked at me incredulously. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not. The only gnomes who have a different opinion aren’t the cozy kind who live in the same place for fifteen generations.”

“And what other kind would you have? That is strange to me.”

“I know. It’s like the werewolves all over again. I’m so adorable, and I cook. Who wouldn’t want me?” I grinned at him and patted his arm. “Is that really all you want in a wife? Adorableness and cooking?”

He shot me a look, guarded, almost like he’d remembered that he was head of the House of Mercy and might have to assassinate me at some point. “Absolutely not. I want kindness and cooking. Adorableness is an added bonus.”

I snickered. “How lucky for you to have found everything you want and more. We might as well go ahead and have a few babies for my mother to show off.”

“Absolutely. I think that the purpose of babies is so that grandmothers can exploit them.” There was an edge to his voice that I didn’t understand.

“Well, what else would you do with them? They’re like kittens. You don’t think that Henrick will eat Lynx, do you?”

“Of course not. Maybe we should have brought her with us.”

I elbowed him. “Aw, you miss her. Too bad. She’s mine. You’ll have to get your own cozy kitten.”

“You have a cat?” my adorable cousin Fera asked, as she passed behind us, putting a hand on my shoulder and giving Cross a flirty smile. My beast wanted to rip off her face, but I focused on feeling cozy and contented.

“Delphinia and I have a cat, yes,” he said with a cool smile that she should take as a rejection.

She grabbed a chair on another table and pulled it between us, bumping my chair as she tried to get closer to the fascinating elf. She leaned over the table so her cleavage threatened to spill out. “So, are you two really together?”

My mother leaned over the table to glare at her niece. Her voice was loud, piercing. “Fera, do you want me to rip out your hair? No? Then don’t stick it between my future son-in-law and my daughter. You know how hard it is to get anyone to date her.”

The orchard was so quiet that I could hear the bees buzzing above us while the whole neighborhood stared at me.

“I have a very easy time dating her,” Cross said smoothly, voice charming, persuasive and absolute. He stood, towering over Fera, then took my hand and forcibly removed me from my chair, then led me to the space where the musicians were standing around, waiting for the dancing to start.

“Play,” he ordered them, and they obeyed, starting a reel that was all bounce and no grace. Cross didn’t know that it wasn’t supposed to be graceful, because he poured it on, dancing with me the dance he’d messed up the night before. Today, he seemed to know just how to throw me, which was lightly, and how close to hold me, which was not close enough. It wasn’t a dance where you switched partners, and for a long time, we were spinning and moving together. For once I felt as graceful as a real elf, because Cross was twice as graceful as one should be, and made every one of my movements perfection.

“You’re very good.”

“Yes. Elf lords are notoriously good dancers,” he said as he led me around in a circle.

“You’re supposed to compliment my dancing, not brag about being an elf lord.”

“There is no one else I’d rather dance with.”

I squinted at him. “That was not a compliment.”

“Of course it was. I only want to dance with the best dancer, who is the most beautiful woman, with the kindest character, who makes the best cookies.”

“You could just say you like my dancing. All that extra stuff just makes you suspicious.”

“I like your dancing, Delphinia,” he said with a slight smile, apparently amused by my stubbornness.

“Thank you for rescuing me.”

“I feel that I was rescuing Fera. It would be a pity if your mother ripped out all her lovely hair.”

“Mm.” I smiled up at him and spun with a little too much energy, but it didn’t matter because he was exactly where he needed to be when I came out of it, to lift me and toss my lightly a few feet away, always keeping a light yet firm grasp on my hand.

We spent the rest of the evening dancing, causing a lot of gossip. As in, how shocking that Delphinia really did have a suitor and it wasn’t just my mother’s wishful thinking. I stared up at Cross during a slow dance that was as close as it could be and still remain respectable. Pity Cross wasn’t really my suitor. Of course, a real suitor wouldn’t be able to play the part so convincingly, because they’d be stuck on logistics, like what in the world to do with a gnome, elf, werewolf. Cross was slightly confused, and he was a professional.

“You’re thinking about an oven again,” he said, eyes glimmering mysteriously in the moonlight.

“I’m thinking about how good you are at playing the perfect suitor. If you’re looking for a new career, once the glow of politics wears off, you should seriously consider escort to the strange and unwanted.”

His jaw hardened. “It is strange how you could feel unwanted.”

“I don’t feel unwanted. That’s how good you are. Take the compliment, Cross. You earned it.”

“Mm. You are extremely provoking.”

I beamed up at him. “Thank you. You see how easy it is to take a compliment?”

“It wasn’t a compliment, but you take it anyway. You are extremely provoking.”

“Mm.” I laughed and hugged him for a second before I pulled back. “You are a surprisingly good sport. I’ll try not to provoke you any more than is necessary.”

“I would appreciate it. It would be a pity if I forgot that I was the perfect suitor and became determined to prove how wanted you are, very publicly.”

“Ooh. That sounds positively scandalous. You’re a senator, you know.”

“Am I? Well, we must avoid scandal. Unless we are unduly provoked.”

I leaned against him, resting my cheek on his chest, listening to his heart beat. “I am full of all kinds of remorse. Imagine provoking a senator, unduly. I’m not sure I know what that word means.”

“More than is necessary, acceptable, or reasonable.”

“Now I’m certain I don’t know what it means. Willful ignorance, you know, is the hallmark of a truly well-bred gnome.”

He sighed heavily and leaned over me so I could feel the stir of his breath against my hair. He felt wonderful, smelled like the most delicious shaving cream mixed with all the purple blossoms imaginable, particularly irises and grape hyacinth. Delicious.

The music stopped, and for a moment we stayed there before he released me and stepped back, leaving me unsteady without the extra pair of legs I’d been relying on. He bowed to me low and then offered me his arm.

I smiled as I took it, forgetting that we were only playing a part.