Page 186 of A Queen's Game
And ifbreedingwith normal elves diluted the bloodline, did that mean both her parents were this variant? One would assume being better at aithyr would have protected her mother’s mind against the magical energy, but it didn’t. Perhaps it made a person more susceptible to it, which meant she—
“Goddess,” Brynden murmured, “I can hear you thinking. What is distracting you at a time like this?”
Her mouth hesitated, pulling away from him. “So this other type of elf we might be—”
“That we, in fact, are.”
“Okay, that we, in fact, are. How is that a secret? How are we different? It makes little sense.”
Brynden took her hand, kissing her palm. “With due time, I will explain, but realize this: our community is small, hidden from outsiders, but we’re scattered throughout Syllogi.”
“And reproducing with normal elves dilutes whatever traits we get from our elven variant.”
“Correct, my studious wife-to-be,” he said, kissing her nose.
“So then my parents were this type of elf.”
Brynden hesitated. “Well, yes and no. Your father’s grandfather was the standard type of elf, diluting that bloodline. Gyrsh only has partial traits.”
“And what of my mother?”
“Ah, she was from an extraordinary family. Many were furious when she chose Gyrsh as her partner, saying she had thrown away her breeding potential. But then we got you.” Brynden cupped her face, gazing from eye to eye. “As extraordinary as she, if not more so. I think that’s why your father despises you—you look like him, but you will amount to greater things than he ever could hope to be.” He laughed, shaking his head. “I keep telling Sylas you take after your mother, but he doesn’t believe me.”
“And that’s how Sylas knew my mother—beyond the Circle of Mages?”
Brynden blinked. “I didn’t realize how much he told you, goddess. But partially, yes.”
“And did you know her?”
“No, I never met her. Our social circles never mixed, but enough with this,” Brynden said, peering out the window. “It looks like we’ve made it to our destination, and I only wantto think of my goddess.” Brynden kissed her again, his fingers sliding into her hair, his tongue into her mouth. He pulled back, biting her lip. The only response she managed was her quickened breath and a nod of her head.
Brynden helped Elyse out of the carriage and up the front steps to the townhouse. He leaned down, kissing her passionately as he opened the door. As it shut, Brynden pushed Elyse back against the wall, one hand caressing her neck, the other squeezing her hip. Gods, what did she do with her hands? Did she put them on his hips? His neck?
Someone cleared their throat and Brynden tore away from her. In the living room, his uncle stood with her father before a group of Satiroan nobles. She knew all of them, the males who worked under her father.
Elyse’s face grew hot as Brynden laughed. “Apologies, I forgot your meeting would still be underway.” In a fell swoop, he picked up Elyse and threw her over his shoulder. “Hope you all have a wonderful evening.”
A few chuckles came from the other room as Brynden started on the stairs.
“Put me down,” she hissed.
“I’ll put you down when I have you in my room, goddess.”
“You should at least go say hello.”
He chuckled. “I have more pressing things to take care of.”
“Well, they’re all going to knowwhyI’m here.” Gods, she could imagine the rumors already.
“Good,” he said. “Then they’ll know that you’remine.”
Elyse watched as Sylas ran up the stairs behind them, as if the situation couldn’t be more embarrassing.
“Is everything alright?” he asked.
Brynden turned around, the sight of Sylas replaced by the stairs. “Nothing could be better.”
“Hello, Sylas,” Elyse added, trying to look over Brynden’s shoulder.
