Heart of Stone

Chapter 8

Evander had a plan. He would manipulate the situation and do all that he could to weave their paths into each other and ensure that Jarek and Patrice spent a lot of time together. The first was dinner.

Jarek was expecting an ordinary night where he'd eat his dinner then rest by the fire in his chambers. Instead, he had a state dinner inflicted upon him. To make it worse, Jarek knew that his brother was up to no good. He knew that because the other kings were in his formal parlour enjoying canapes. Half an hour ago, they were in their own worlds and this dinner was not in his diary.

Currently, they were discussing the reports of the aftermath of the human war and what was going on. Jarek hadn't visited the watchers building to receive his daily briefing. It seemed almost pointless considering that he'd been on Earth a few hours ago. He remembered that a few hours for him was quite a lot of time for the humans. Jarek's lips pressed tight as he looked out the window to the watchers building.

"I really should receive the briefing."

"Nonsense," Sander exclaimed. "All is going as we would expect it to. This is why we all have watchers, old friend. You do not need to worry about the Earth for a while. Concentrate on your guest and finding a path to her arms."

"I have other matters to attend to."

The four kings exchanged glances, then turned to the young prince. Evander rolled his eyes and ignored the statement.

Things would change, whether Jarek liked it or not.

"Don't be ridiculous." Brogan chided. "All political matters are placed on hiatus in such times."

"No," Jarek replied firmly. "I will not delay any advancement of my world."

"Then you'd better get on with your romantic pursuit of Patrice."

Brogan squared off against the mighty elf king, waiting for him to say something more. The tension ended abruptly when Zakiel chuckled.

"Awoo," he crooned, pushing the elf king out of his way. "What a fine creature you are."

Patrice was swept around as Zakiel drew her into the room. Her head spun for a moment, then she blushed with an embarrassed smile.

"You mock me," she whispered.

"I do not. I know a pretty lady when I see one. Now, be careful, won't you? I'd hate to see you slip on the drool that Jarek has flooded the floor with."

Lacing her arm into his, Zakiel guided Patrice into the parlour to join their conversation. Zakiel kept a firm grip on her, staring with defiance at Jarek. The mocking smile he gave told the king that he was a fool, and Zakiel would gladly steal the lovely Patrice from him.

Jarek didn't want to look in her direction. He didn't want to see any part of her. Not the new dress or how the blush pink complimented her fair skin. Not the expensive lace that sat against her delicate decolletage.

Patrice adored the sweet pink dress. She'd never seen such a fine garment and knew that it had to be incredibly expensive. The lace alone was surely worth a fortune. It was a long dress, the embroidered skirt swept over the floor and made of the softest material she'd ever felt. Even the low neckline was admired by Patrice, which she thought was a bit odd considering she usually found them to be scandalous. The lace offered a little more coverage. For that, she was grateful.

Jarek knew the games his brother played. He showed off how stunning she could be but failed to realise that there was more to this than how she looked. The fact that they grated against each other was enough to tell him that this would not be an easy path. As much as it pained him to think it, Jarek knew that there was only one way that he could move.