Girl of Iron and Magic

22

22.
PRESENT DAY

"There you are," said Rowan, looking up at Lotte from where she was perched on Maloru's highest branches. "Are you really going to miss the chance of sleeping in an actual bed?"

Lotte shook her head, coming out of her thoughts.

"You do sleep in beds, right?"

A bed was an attractive prospect, even at a time like this. Lotte began to slide down from branch to branch. She leapt the last few meters right to the ground, landing on her toes with her knees bent.

The jump should've hurt. It shouldn't have made sense.

The feeling of apprehension from earlier mounted again. What kind of enchantment had Lotte really put on herself? This illusion wasn't illusionary enough.

She longed to talk about what happened, about all of it. She needed to talk to Maloru, but he wasn't going to be talkative for the next three days.

She wished she could talk with Rowan.

What if she couldn't fall asleep again and talk it through with Blue? She'd have to keep all this bottled up inside her, while the frustration and guilt ate at her heart. Somehow, this situation had been easier to handle when she was younger. Was it because her problems were simpler back then?

No, she had just been alone back then. Without anyone to talk with, she didn't have the need to talk at all.

"Uh..." Rowan said as they walked back towards the house. "I take it you didn't plan for that thing that happened earlier to happen?"

Lotte shook her head.

"You know," Rowan whispered, leaning into Lotte. "I've never seen a real elf before. But...I think you've outdone yourself. You should've seen yourself in there. Your eyes were red and glowy and your hair moved...like it was made out of snakes. There was something in the air around you. Honestly, I don't know how to explain it. It was terri—" Rowan closed her mouth with a snap.

Terrifying. She was about to say terrifying. Lotte was terrifying.
Lotte hung her head.

"Hey," Rowan tentatively reached out and patted Lotte's arm. "It's not your fault. I wish I was terrifying. And I think the elf you is cool."

They encountered Igador in the upstairs corridor on the way to their room. He plastered himself against the wall to let them pass. Lotte looked at him from the corner of her eye. Yes, she could see his fear that hadn't been there earlier, but that only seemed to intensify that unmistakable look of infatuation in his eyes.

She locked the bedroom door behind them, as an extra measure.

Blue's tower room was considerably neat. The desks and chairs that usually inhabited it were gone. Instead, there was a rug on the floor by a circular hearth and Blue lay sprawled on top a pile of cushions, his fingers passing through the flames in the hearth, causing them to change colour.

He was lounging on his side in what Lotte was certain was a purposefully alluring pose. His wings were stretched flat over the floor, the lace on the top of his tunic was undone, revealing the clefts of his collarbones and his long hair fell in glistening locks against his sparkling cheek.

It was like he knew the particular aesthetic language Lotte liked. It was too perfect—too effective—to be anything but intentional.

Her heart began to race and her stomach squirmed when he smiled up at her, patting the cushions next to him.

"What's all this?" Lotte asked, sinking to sit in front of him.

He wasted no time, tracing her jaw with his fingers. "I was thinking...you need to do some relaxing."