(Dyn)

  “Is it because I’m a princess?”

  “What?” It surprised Dyn when she used her own title. He opened his eyes to Eury, her deeply furrowed brows staring back at him. She was sitting upright, stiff with pain, looking at him expetly. This clearly wasn’t just a passing thought.

  “The reason you wouldn’t kiss me…” Eury’s voice was quiet. She held an unsoiled er of his borrowed cloak between her fingers.

  He shifted to realign his back against the tree, remembering when he’d shoved his foot into his mouth earlier—ankle deep. He let out a sigh. Her gaze was still fixed on him. She hadn’t fotten about his poor choice of words as he’d hoped. This versation was a no-win sario—his own personal Kobayashi Maru.

  He pursed his lips, averting his eyes as he worked his thumb into the palm of his other hand. Using fri, he rubbed the grime away. His thumb found the blisters he’d earned from training on the Everafter, which were now hardening into callouses. He couldn’t avoid answering forever. Besides, if the versation helped distract her from the pain until Ru arrived, thealk with her about anything. But this time, he’d choose his words more carefully.

  He shrugged. “We just met, and I don’t really know you so…” He noticed the look in her golden-flecked amethyst eyes. At first, he thought this was just another minefield, and she was merely waiting for him to say the wrong thing again.

  But he’d never been graceful, only ear. So when he relutly bumbled his way into the field this time, he found no mines, no ulterior motive. Only her eyes searg to uand. Dyn was quickly learning that people were often more fragile than they appeared, and his offhanded ent had cut deeper thaended.

  And Holy shit, that resonated with him.

  Eury was simply asking an ho question, hoping to get an ho ahe vulnerability it took to do that was humbling as she risked ridicule, reje, and worse.

  She was him; just asking different questions.

  “I…” He paused, his gaze dropping to the ground as he grappled with how to preserve her trust. She deserved the truth.

  “I didn’t want to presume that a prin—” He cut himself off, fumbling to repce the P-word. “That… you would want…” His hand drifted to the back of his neck, rubbing nervously as the words faltered.

  Dyn found it difficult to expin what he meant, especially since he didn’t know how he felt about it himself. Was it fear of saying the wrong thing, or was he just unsure of what he truly wanted?

  He gave her a sheepish smile. “It’s not like I go around dreaming of kissing every stranger I just met…” He paused. Then took a risk of his own. “Princess or otherwise.” He was gd to see the word hadn’t upset her.

  Then aackle-happy princess sprang to mind. He hoped the grime on his face was enough to hide the blood rushing to his cheeks as he thought about the pretty fox woman. It’s not like he lied about the princess part. He’d feel the same way about Meekan, title or not. But this wasn’t about Meekan—it was about Eury.

  Eury aowledged his reply with a slow nod, her gaze briefly dropping to the cloak in her p. He watched as the gears behind those amethyst eyes tio turn. She kept searg for the answer, needing to know whether the fears that dogged her had merit.

  Dyn really wao give her what she his was unfamiliar territory for him. In the past, he’d always been in Eury’s position. And all he’d ever gotten was the me, “It’s not you, it’s me.” That never answered the question that mattered most: why.

  “Oh,” she said, exhaling with a mix of relief and uainty after hearing his answer. She bit her lip, hesitating briefly before taking another risk. “So, it’s not because I’m too young?”

  Immediately, he thought, ‘You are defioo young.’ She was barely a woman; she looked maybe twenty by Dyn’s admittedly terrible guesses. Worse, there was the possibility she could be younger, which left him feeling even more unfortable.

  While his body may betray him to a pretty face or a stiff breeze, he was still in charge of whether he’d a those impulses.

  It’s not that he couldn’t uand her . An age difference was one of those transitional challehat got better with time. But it wasn’t immediate—like renoung a royal title and moving to ada.

  ‘How do I expiing celed?’ Dyn wondered.

  “I mean—” He paused, gng away as he searched for something more tactful.

  Eury was quick to interjed make her case. “I won’t be thirty-two forever.” She gnced down at the e fabri her hands. “And in a tury, it won’t even matter.” The determined elf gave a casual shrug. She was trying to py dowential age gap.

  Dyn blinked, shaking his head in disbelief. “There’s no way you’re thirty-two.” The words slipped out before he could catch them. Her eyes shot up at him.

  “I am,” she snapped. Her jaw tightened with indignation.

  Dyn frowned, watg her prickly posture build another defensive wall, brick by brick. He imagihis was one of the bigger points of tention in her life, and she must feel as if she wasn’t being taken seriously because of it.

  “Either way, in a tury, I’ll be well past my human expiration date,” he joked with a weak smile, half for her sake and the other for his.

  “Really?” A hint of lingered in her words as the tension in her shoulders slipped away. “How long do humans live?”

  “Oof, that’s an unpleasant thought.” Dyn scratched the back of his head. “A few of us might make it just past a hundred,” he guessed. “I think the average might be seventy-five, give or take.”

  “That’s…” Eury paused. Her face torted, her eyes narrowing, as she struggled to process his mortality. “A terrifyingly short amount of time.”

  “Tell me about it…”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—” Her fingers rose to cover her agape mouth. Realizing her own carelessness, her eyes darted away from his with embarrassment.

  “I just thought… Since humans and elves were so simir…” Her amethyst eyes sought his, softened with passion and tinged with pity. “I’d just assumed…” Her words trailed off again.

  “It’s okay,” he said, her a gentle smile and a slight shrug. The st pattering of raindrops on the leaves filled the momentary silence. “I get it.”

  She bit her lip, staring at him as though he might vanish at any moment. The smooth texture of the cloak between her fingers seemed to ground her with reassurahat he wasn’t going anywhere just yet.

  “Well,” she said, drawing a steady breath. “It’s good that yoing to be an adventurer. Magic will help extend your lifetime. Each rank will slow ying.” Her eyes dropped to his borrowed cloak, her fingers brushing its edge as if lost in thought.

  “A shame they’ve restricted Time magic…” she said, running the e hem between two fingers. “You could’ve lived as long as we do.”

  “Time magic?” he repeated out loud before his brain finished processing the phrase. He cast his gaze into his hands on his p, realizing his mistake. Thankfully, his nails were filthy, a ve distra as he tried to act cool about the forbidden magic. But it was o hear Time magic wasn’t all drawbacks.

  Either she hadn’t heard his words, or, more likely, she was smart enough not to eain the dangerous topic. Either suited him fine.

  Eury reached down to break off a long bde of grass just above the colr, occupying herself by tearing off one finger width at a time. She stole g him every few rips. To Dyn, it was obvious she was w up to another question. He was tent to groom his nails while he waited. Eventually, the bde ended, and she tossed what remaio the side.

  She took a breath to ask her question, but winced instead as her body reminded her of her injury. The pain helped ground her, bringihe ce to ask. “How old are you?” Her question was simple. And it was his answer she he ce for.

  Dyn frowned, his pursed lips sliding from one cheek to the other before he said, “Thirty-five.”

  Her expression softehe tension in her jaw dissipating as she realized what he already knew—her age wasn’t a problem.

  “We’re the same geion,” she said. “I’m not too young.” He detected the upbeat iion hidden in her void glimpsed her smile before she fought it back with the practiced posure of royalty.

  Dyn chewed on his cheek. He was just past a third of his expected lifespan, a s cept to think about, while she had well over enths of hers to still experience.

  “I think elves and humans may have different maturation rates,” he cautioned, but if her realization gave her more self-fidence, he wouldn’t press the issue further.

  “Elves finish maturing around twenty. I’ve been an adult for twelve years now.” She tilted her head to ask her question. “Have you finished maturing?”

  His mouth opened and closed a few times as he thought about how to ahat question. “Physically, yes.” The jury was out on how long it took humans to mature mentally, but he wasn’t about to admit that part out loud.

  Eury let out a sigh, and Dyn sympathized with her. Finding answers by ruling out everything else was exhausting.

  Her shoulders dipped ever so slightly, as if the weight of another question was already pulling her down. Her gaze fell to the floor before trailing over herself, a slow, measured sweep starting at her feet and ending with her fingers brushing against her cheek. The way she studied herself, as if searg for some unseen fw, made Dyn’s stomach twist.

  When she looked up again, her eyes locked onto his with an insecurity that cut to his core. They were searg, yet burdened by a fear so familiar. Her expressioered between dread aermination, caught in that strange limbo where need and aversion collided. His heart ached for her. Whatever question she was about to ask, it was one no one wao face—but she couldn’t stop herself. Her need for an answer outweighed her fear of the truth.

  “Is it…” she stumbled. “Do you… Am I not pretty enough?”

  “How? What… I don’t—You’re kidding me, right?” Dyn didn’t know how to respond. He ktractiveness was subjective, and it was clear she wasn’t fishing for a pliment. But before he could finish processing the question and ter her intrusive thoughts, she doubled down with her question.

  “Am I ugly by human standards?” the more-thay-enough princess asked.

  The absurdity of it all hit him like a wave, and his posure shattered. His sck-jawed, open mouth twitched into a smile, which grew into a giggle. That giggle bubbled up, rolling into a hearty ugh that shook his stomad shoulders.

  Eury recoiled, her expression tightening as his ughter struck her wrong. “Why are you ughing?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

  Dyn’s ughter died in his throat. His hand shot up to cmp over his mouth, muffling the remnants of his giggle. His wide eyes searched hers, panic flickering across his face as he scrambled for a way to undo his unintended cruelty.

  Too te to soften the blow, Dyn held out a hand. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It wasn’t kind of me to ugh at your question.” He posed himself, bringing his hand back to rest on his chest.

  “What I should’ve said was: every single elf I’ve met is an eleven out of ten by human standards.” Holy, that was true for most of the people he’d met on Mother ons.

  She sidered his words, letting him stew for a moment. Then her gre eased, and her jaw rexed, a grin beginning to form. “I thought you said you were good at math?” she asked.

  Dyn smiled, chug softly as he rubbed the back of his neck. “No, you’re missing my point. I’ve yet to meet ahat wasn’t stunningly beautiful.”

  Eury raised an eyebrow at him, her voice soft as she asked, “Including… me?” Now it seemed like she might’ve been fishing for a pliment.

  “How is this my life?” He shook his head, tossing up both hands in mock exasperation. Then, with a pointed look, he said, “Yes, Eury, you’re exceptionally pretty.”

  She gnced away, color rising in her cheeks as her smile tugged them higher. For Dyn, the mome far too brief before it faded, and her miuro the search for her reason.

  “Then… I don’t uand,” she admitted. Dyn had the inkling that this truly was his no-win sario.

  He rubbed his , his finger brushing the scruff of his growing beard as her question echoed in his mind. ‘Have we been looking at this all wrong?’ he wohen the idea struck him, pieg together fragments of her words, her tone, and the way her gaze lingered just a little too long.

  ‘She’s trying to figure out why I don’t like her—but what if that’s not the real question?’ His chest tightened as the idea formed. Maybe it wasn’t about him at all. Maybe it was about her—about why she wanted him to. And perhaps she didn’t even realize it.

  A simple question could test his theory, but asking it would mean f her to front something she might not be ready to face.

  Dyn stole o g her, his stomach twisting as he tried to sound casual. “I mean… I didn’t even think you liked me like that,” he said, his voice quieter than he’d intended.

  “I didn’t—” Eury shifted against the tree, suddenly unfortable with her position. “I mean, I don’t,” she corrected, her gaze darting away.

  “Then why does it matter if I want to kiss you or not?”

  “It… it doesn’t,” she insisted, her voice wavering as if trying to vihem both.

  That was enough to give Dyn his answer. But instead of crity, it left him with more questions. ‘Why don’t I want to kiss her?’ The thought rooted itself in his mind, twisting and growing until it became his own.

  The wind rustled through the leaves, apanied by the steady chirp of is. Dyhe post storm sounds fill the sileween them as they each wrestled with their thoughts. Resting and talking with her had helped some, but his energy was still drained. He worried it might not fully return until he had more fk.

  Minutes passed, and still no sign of Tome & Key. He guessed they had at least a couple more hours before they’d arrive—unless, of course, they had some sweet magic abilities up their sleeves, which was always a possibility.

  Eury’s voice broke the quiet, snapping him out of his thoughts. Her golden-flecked amethyst eyes narrowed on him, her tongue clig sharply.

  “Are you sure it’s not because I’m a princess?”