Fox and Fawn

day seven

elain

day seven

"Flirting is a woman's trade, one must keep in practice."

― Charlotte Brontë

Natalie - Milk & Bone

  Elain hadn't been able to sleep that night. She'd just laid awake in bed, closing her eyes and replaying the vision that had returned to her that evening.

  Her fingers intertwined with his. A garden where he walked alongside her as she inspected her plants. Her lips against his. Two hands bound with a length of ribbon.

  Gone was the nightmare of the old and lonely spinster with a broken heart. True love reigned once more. Those were her last thoughts before she succumbed to sleep.

  And when she'd awoken, it had truly felt like a new day. A day full of possibilities. One of the cliche' and scandalous novels that Nesta had lent Elain came to mind. There had been a line in the book that had stuck with Elain more than the story or even the dashing love interest. It was "and with fingers intertwined, they set down a path of promise and passion, fearsome and lovely." And that was exactly what this felt like. Exactly how Lucien Vanserra made her feel. Scared and lovely and meant for beautiful things.

  Elain sat at her vanity fastening on her pearl earrings, admiring her reflection and the pink tint in her cheeks.

  Day seven. The final day. Tomorrow they would decide the fate of the bond. Although unbeknownst to Lucien, Elain already knew how they would proceed. Her vision had returned and that made their fate clear enough.

  The question was... did she tell him about it?

  No. She would keep it to herself. She'd bury it deep inside her chest and hold it close. One day she would tell him. Perhaps the night they were mated -- whenever that would be.

  There was a knock at her bedroom door and Elain swiveled on her stool. "Come in."

  Both Nuala and Cerridwen entered, shutting the door behind them. The twins exchanged mischievous looks and Elain's brows lifted. "Yes?"

  The edge of Nuala's lip hitched up just slightly. "Lord Vanserra has requested your presence at the town house tonight at six."

   Elain rolled her eyes, smiling softly. "Oh, please. Stop behaving like this is so out of the ordinary. I've seen him every day for a week..."

  Cerridwen folded her arms, crossing the room to sit at the foot of Elain's bed. "Lord Vanserra seemed awfully... beside himself."

  "I'd even go so far as to say flustered..." added Nuala.

  "Blushing," Cerridwen nodded.

  Nuala sighed dreamily. "Like a prospective bridegroom."

  Elain glanced between the two of them, fighting off the face-splitting grin she wanted to wear. Instead she offered a quiet laugh, waving an errant hand. "You act like it's the most scandalous thing you've ever seen."

  "It is," Cerridwen said silkily. "For you."

  "It's true," agreed Nuala. "And you're equally as besotted with him as he is with you."

  Elain's cheeks colored, and she turned back to her vanity mirror, running a brush through her hair. "You are both insufferable sometimes. I'm courting him. I'm not besotted."