Page 104 of A Court Bright and Broken

How could I have been so careless? Had he seen me?

A moment of horror stole my breath. It was accompanied by a vague sense of guilt. And then my rational thought process took over.

Most likely he had not seen me. It had only been the smallest part of a second. If hehadseen anything, it would only have been a flash of movement. He would assume it was Stellon.

Besides, at certain times of day, the sun hit the glass at an angle that made the windows reflect like mirrors from the outside.

Pharis had probably only been seeking a glimpse of his glorious, vain self.

Still, I rushed away from the window, and over to the crates that had been delivered to the room, planning to select a new book to get lost in.

What I found was an old one.

Stellon entered the suite just as I grasped and lifted it. Still a little spooked, I pressed the ancient tome to my chest.

“Well hello,” he said. “What’s putthatlook on your face?”

“I can’t believe you have this book,” I said, limping to the sofa to sit beside him.

I didn’t mention the close call with Pharis, as that was all it was. A close call. But I made a vow to studiously avoid the windows from now on during the four o’clock hour.

Stellon’s smile was wide. “It’s my very favorite. You know it?”

“Know it? I’ve read it a thousand times,” I said. “We have this one at home. It was my mother’s. It’s always been my favorite as well.”

What were the odds we’d have the same favorite book? An Elven man and a human peasant. Especially when I had so few, and he hadsomany?

All thoughts of Pharis and his mysterious tattoo and glistening muscles vanished.

“That’s strange,” Stellon said, holding out a hand, silently asking for the book.

I gave it to him, and he turned it over several times, inspecting the spine, the back cover, and then the front cover again.

“There aren’t many of these around, you know,” he said. “I wonder how your mother came to be in possession of one.”

“Is it forbidden or something?” I asked, confused.

“No, not forbidden. Just… rare. Who did you say your mother was?”

“Her name was Jeneve. She died a few years ago, remember? I told you that day at the Rough Market.”

“No, I remember that part,” he said. “It stuck with me because I’d lost my mother as well, and it made me feel… I don’t know… I guess…connectedis the right word—with you.”

His words filled me with a sense of wonderment, and the look in his eyes set off a nervous tremor in my stomach.

“I felt the same that day,” I said.

The surprise was I felt evenmoreof a connection with him now.

Who would have thought getting to know Elves would make themmoreappealing, not less?

“I think it was my first realization that Elven people weren’t so different from us,” I said. “We all love our mothers… and miss them when they’re gone. I wish I had a portrait of mine to show you. The only one I had was in the locket I lost at the market.”

Stellon bolted upright. “The locket. I can’t believe I forgot about the locket. My mind really is muddled these days.”

He dashed across the room to his writing desk as I watched.

“What are you looking for?”

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