Page 29 of Shelf-Made Man
“Now’s your chance.”
The car started to rise, and although it did so smoothly, Alfie gasped and clutched Tobias’s arm—then realized what he’d done and let go. That tiny drama made Tobias so sad he wanted to cry. But hekept his jaw set and eyes dry, and when they reached the fourteenth floor, he stepped out without waiting to see whether Alfie followed. If Alfie got stuck, that would be his own damned fault.
Alfie didn’t get stuck. He followed Tobias down the hallway and waited with him after Tobias knocked.
“Do enter!” called a familiar voice.
Everything was exactly the same as his visit several days ago, except now the air carried faint whiffs of cinnamon and balsam. Maybe Aunt Virginia had Christmas decorations tucked away somewhere.
She was not in the parlor, which was as dark as ever, but her voice carried from another room. “Do sit down, my boy. I’ll be there momentarily.”
“I brought, um, a guest.” He was met with silence.
Eventually, she said, “Whom have you brought?” He couldn’t tell whether she was angry.
Tobias glanced at Alfie but couldn’t read his expression in the gloom. “Alfred Clausen, second son of Claus Clausen. Um, King Claus Clausen, I guess.” And then he added, because why the hell not, “He’s an elf.”
Aunt Virginia came bursting into the room and strode past them much faster than Tobias would have expected from someone in her nineties. She flung open the nearest drapes, flooding that part of the room with sunlight and illuminating her appearance: tan slippers, emerald-colored silk pajama trousers, and a nubbly gray sweater. Her hair, straight and almost transparent, fell to her waist; she wore no makeup.
Alfie gasped and executed such a deep bow that he bent nearly double. “My Lady.”
After a moment of standing there stupidly, Tobias remembered his manners. “Thank you for seeing us, Aunt Virginia. This is Prince Alfred. Alfie, this is the Countess of Contovello.”
“Forgive me, My Lady, but you are the most stunningly beautiful person I have ever met. Please excuse me if I am somewhat tongue-tied.”
It was clear that Alfie wasn’t lying or offering false flattery—he genuinely appeared awestruck. Tobias was… well, a little jealous. Not that he had any right to be, he reminded himself. And he ought to be thankful that Aunt Virginia had let them in, especially since she seemed the only reasonable source of answers to his many questions.
Which reminded him.
“Aunt Virginia, did you know that I’m a troll?” Without him intending it, a bit of annoyance came through.
Instead of scolding him for his rudeness, she gave a small sigh. “Toby dear, would you please bring in another chair for your friend?” She waved toward the parlor door that led to the kitchen.
Although Tobias could have protested that Alfie was not his friend and pretty much detested him, he kept his mouth shut and hurried into the kitchen, which hadn’t changed one bit since he was a child. It was a very ordinary room, with those white laminate cabinets that hadbeen so popular in the 80s. A bowl of apples sat on the counter, and there was an old console TV on a stand near the dinette set. An ache stabbed through him as he remembered sitting at that table with a glass of milk and a piece of fancy cake, leafing through a comic book while the grown-up talk washed over him like warm waves.
He grabbed one of the chairs and carried it back to the parlor, where Aunt Virginia and Alfie stood and silently stared at each other. When she took her customary seat, Alfie sat in the kitchen chair, and Tobias, as usual, got the inquisition chair.
Then everyone began to speak at once, a cacophony of questions, until Aunt Virginia held up her hand. “Please, boys. One at a time. And I shall claim privilege of the eldest and ask first. Tobias, how did you manage to return Prince Alfred to his true form?”
“Before I answer, you should know that some nasty trolls are after us. They’ve tried to get us twice, and they can track Alfie anywhere.”
She waved a hand. “They cannot enter here. I am sorry to hear you’ve faced such difficulties. It seems, however, that you have overcome them.”
“Tobias saved me,” said Alfie, maybe a little reluctantly. “He’s strong.”
“Indeed. Tobias?”
He told her the brief story, THC snickerdoodles and all, and she nodded as he spoke. “Olve tried many times,” she said when he was done. “But he was unableto restore the prince. I do apologize on his behalf, Your Highness.”
“It’s Alfie,” he said, shaking his head. “And I think Tobias saved my life.”
Everyone was being very polite, but Tobias wanted to scream. He clutched the arms of the chair hard enough to make them creak. “Aunt Virginia, can you please tell us what the hell happened? And how my mom ended up adopting a troll? And how Alfie can stay safe?”
“Very well. But before I begin, Tobias Hilmar Lykke, you must understand one thing very clearly: your mother loved you. She was proud of you. And she never once regretted that you were her son.”
He’d been trying to appear stern, but now he sniffled. “Thank you.”
“But he’s a troll!” Alfie interjected, and then looked sorry he’d said anything.
