The Incomplete Crown Of Bethmoora

Chapter 23

Nuada found shelter in the agency's library and closed the doors behind him. He paced from side to side in the room and begged that no one barged in. He needed solitude to think. Everything was happening too fast and was out of his control. Loreto was finally out of danger. Her tears of gratitude left a deep mark in his heart. Her suggestion and the logic she had argued took him by surprise.

And what if there was another way out? A month ago I didn't know about the existence of magical creatures, let alone of elves living side by side with us in this world. What if you introduce yourself to the world as the Prince of Elves and negotiate a peaceful solution to your people? The entire world would be just as fascinated with you as I am, you'd have people's support if you explain the situation.

He didn't know whether Loreto was too naïve or humans would truly have the greatness of spirit to negotiate face to face with no schemes about the return of Bethmoora to the surface. The idea wasn't bad, to use the healing power of the forest demigods to trade and bargain. However, something in his heart warned him of the risk. The rows of warriors in Bethmoora were scarce, without the Golden Army their disadvantage before the military advance of the humans would be humiliating. It would be suicidal. Nuada had seen the humans fail themselves too many times in history to believe now they'd act differently.

Besides, he still hadn't ascended to the throne to be the one in charge of leading the conversations. And what would they trade? A lousy piece of land where his once proud people lived with no honor or dignity? Above all things, they needed the place and time to heal. To suddenly live on the Earth would weaken them to death. All creatures in the kingdom, including the elves, had suffered the consequences of eons of life underground. There, wherever Bethmoora could be rebuilt on the surface, would also need an equally large space underground to alternate day and night hours in harmony with their fragile organisms. The druids could guide the process and perhaps, if the will existed, the human specialists could also lend their help. The Prince stopped his traces. He lost his gaze on the endless bookshelf. Why did he think the humans would want to help them? They were selfish, miserable, cruel beings. Loreto was also a human. She was all the contrary. How was that possible? In her heart dwelled a warm and blinding light that enticed him whenever he was in her presence. The mere fact she had suggested using the method that cured her cancer to place the elves in a powerful and attractive position before the humans said a lot about her kindness. She was already healed. Why would she care about the rest of humans who daily die from this disease?

The doors of the library opened and interrupted his thoughts. Nuada turned and found Loreto walking downstairs towards the center. She produced her mobile telephone device and showed the screen to him. Dubious, he took it in his hands and checked. There were pictures of a building in New York. It took him a while to recognize it at first, but seconds later he noticed it was the place where Loreto had residence. The photographs showed a bunch of people gathered at the outside with dozens of cameras pointing to her apartment. Loreto took her cell phone from his hand and returned it with other pictures. It was the two of them walking in each other's arms in search of a taxi that early morning close to sunrise.

"My agent wrote to me. Speculations are all over the media. They speculate about who's the man in the pictures, why we seemed so close and whether he's the one responsible for my disappearance," Loreto said in a flat tone and put away her cell phone in the back pocket of her pants. "I can't go back home. Not in these conditions. I want peace..."

"You'll come with me then," Nuada said, taking her hand and kissing its back.

They arrived at the abandoned warehouse at Brooklyn bridge escorted by the special agents. Nuala and the druids went back home with him. Reluctantly, he allowed the Agents Krauss and Sapien to take samples of the Elemental's descendants' ichor. He observed with delight as his sister reunited with their fellow elves and disappeared in her private chambers. Immediately her servants tended to her needs and prepared dinner for her. It was past midnight. Only then Nuada noticed he had eaten nothing since the previous night in Loreto's residence. It was time to return the favor. They entered his dwelling, and he ordered Arasne to prepare a dinner for two. The fall coldness going towards winter was felt penetratingly among and under the foundations in the guts of New York. The Prince gestured towards the armchair before the fireplace. Loreto sat down and apologized as she realized that it was the only couch available. One of his servants noticed the situation and quickly dragged one of the dining table chairs next to the fireplace. He took out his lance and sword belt and sat by her side. Straight away the orange halo of the crackling flames reached the both of them and enwrapped them in heat. Loreto stretched her hands towards the fire and rubbed them. Out of the blue, he saw her approaching him until she was only millimeters away from his mouth. Her sudden proximity surprised him. Loreto touched his cheek with the tip of her nose. A chill shook him all over. She laughed and returned to her seat.

"My feet are also frozen," she said and danced her boots on the floor. "Don't stare at me like that, I won't touch you with them. I don't want to turn you into an ice cube."

He couldn't help it but be moved. He let out the laughter kept for eons behind his vocal chords. He watched her with attention. The dancing flame shadows capriciously drew her features. She was gorgeous. A goddess. Her brown hair waves shone tiny rays of fire like glitter on her locks. He supposed that, as her eyes muted to green in the day, her hairs also shone bright under the sun. He'd never see her under the daylight. He'd never see the green in her changing eyes. The damage of millions of years on the elves' skin and eyes would take the same amount of time to heal. Loreto faced him and with no words asked him what happened.

"I can't read minds like you do," she said and stretched her hand towards him. "If you don't want to tell me, I understand. But if you want to let out what's bothering you, I'm listening."

Nuada took her hand and interlaced his fingers with hers. He squeezed and looked into her eyes.

I love you.

Loreto blinked several times and tilted her head, puzzled.

"Did you just say you love me?"

"Yes," the Prince replied right away.

"It's not possible for you to love me already, we barely know each other. You don't know who I am. You don't know my traumas, my wounds, my pains. You don't know what I hope of life nor how I see the world. You don't know how vain I can be, you have no idea what makes me angry nor what offends me. You don't know whether we're compatible, whether we have the same interests, tastes..."

Loreto spoke disorderly. She let go of his hand and rubbed her face and hairs. She let out a loud exhale, deflating her shoulders, and stared at the crackling fire. Her demeanor hardened. Nuada took a deep breath.

"That's how humans see love," he said calmly, still with his hand stretched towards her with his palm pointing upwards.

Loreto faced him.

"How do you see it then?," she said with annoyance in her voice.

"I see the essential in your heart," the Prince made himself comfortable on the chair to face her. "You're mistaken, I do see your wounds. You're an open book, Loreto. Your heart carries old and new scars."

Loreto lowered her gaze and bit her lower lip. Nuada stood up, went to her and crouched before her. He touched her chest where her heart beat and closed his eyes. The cynicism was gaining terrain within her. He felt in her a hopeless bitterness at the mere mention of love. Nuada opened his eyes and faced her. There was skepticism and reluctance in her eyes. An impenetrable wall of protection.

"I know too well the road before you," the Prince said and took her hands in his. "Wounds don't close if we don't let them bleed freely on the outside. If we hide them in the darkness, the day will come when your heart will no longer recognize the light right before your eyes. Believe me, that has been my life for thousands of years. Until I met you. Loreto, you're the light that heals my wounds. May I be yours?"