Page 15 of The Broken Elf King
He gave me a cool stare. “I’m not the Nightfall queen, and I know they seem disrespectful and overcontrolling, but you have to understand I became a king before I could even grow a beard. They’ve all become somewhat of father figures and uncles to me.”
My heart pinched then, and I saw the whole thing in a new light. Haig was like the overbearing father who forced you to do what was good for you, even if you hated it.
I nodded. “Well, time to meet the families and pick our top five. This could be fun.” I tried to lighten the mood. “What kind of things are you into? I can try to match someone with common interests. You don’t want to be stuck with someone forever who hates reading if you love it. Or who talks too much if you like quiet time,” I said.
He looked at me and chuckled. “I like quiet time and you talk too much.”
It was playful so I laughed. “Well, it is a good thing I am not in the running to be your wife. What else?”
He shrugged. “I like chess when I have time. Archery of course. Fine cuisine. Reading. Walking through the lily gardens, and most of all healing my patients.”
I’d heard only rumors, but the elf king had an entire infirmary erected in his name and was the greatest healer in all the realm. I’d love to see him work with his patients, and hoped that was still part of the job description since he’d all but promised it to me if I stayed out of the way.
I jotted it all down.
Quiet time.
Chess.
Archery.
Gardens.
Food.
Reading.
Healing.
“What about looks? Are you into blondes? Redheads? Tall? Athletic?” I asked.
The king raised an eyebrow and his gaze traveled down from the tip of my nose to my cleavage and back up. “Pretty is pretty, I don’t care what color package it comes in,” he said, and I felt my cheeks heat.
Okay…
Pretty,I added to my list, and then there was a knock at the door.
“Enter,” the king said.
A servant entered with a cart of pastries and tea, and right behind him Mrs. Tirth wearing her crisp housemaid uniform. “My lord, I introduce you to Miss Agatha Trulin, mother of Gertie Trulin.”
A lithe fae with wild curly blond hair and a sweeping gold cloak entered and curtsied deeply. “Your Highness, it is truly a pleasure.”
She sat down at the table and was served tea and given a cookie.
Another mother entered, who was also introduced by Mrs. Tirth, and I started to take notes.
Agatha Trulin—Gertie’s mother. Curly blond hair.
Billie Gillhard—Bronwyn’s mother. Long nails.
When all dozen women had been seated at the table, it was officially full. The king introduced me as his new personal assistant and all the women smiled kindly at me. When the waiter got to me, he served me two cups of tea and two cookies. It took me a moment to understand why.
Oh. Food taster.
As the king made boring small talk with the highborn mothers of Elf City, I sipped his tea and waited. Heart palpations? Headache? Stomach cramps? Nope, nope, nope. I watched my pocket watch as Raife cast worried glances my way.
How much anxiety it must cause him at every meal, wondering if the queen would come back to finish him off.
