Page 39 of Enchanting the Elf
Thunder rumbles in the distance and I burrow deeper into my sweater, today’s being the same color as the dreary sky outside. Despite my strongest effort, I can’t help but bring the collar to my nose and inhale deeply.
Adelbert shows his caring side to me as he cycles through various sweaters, always leaving a clean one next to my breakfast setup—which he still preparesdaily—when the previously worn sweater is in the wash. I’d like to imagine him cuddling and sniffing those sweaters the way I do, but I’ll never know.
I wait with bated breath for our dinners together. Even though my days are filled with doing what I love, I’m starving for company. I enjoy the nature surrounding Adelbert’s house, but I feel constricted by the limit placed around the clearing. I’d love to explore other parts of the forest or maybe even go in search of a pretty meadow for more inspiration.
I have finished five large embroidery pieces since I’ve been here. Each piece tracks a different feature of the Black Forest as summer slowly ebbs away. I need to list them for sale soon, butsomething is keeping me from doing it. It’s almost like the ones I’m making are missing a major piece in the series.
I also miss my sister. Dede is getting ready to open her store soon and I wish I can go for the opening, but I won’t ask Adelbert about traveling there as his presentation date looms closer. No way will I be adding to his stress.
Outside, the trees around the clearing are veiled by the fine curtain of rain surrounding the house. My feet tap against the wooden floorboards and I mentally groan with the boredom of being stuck in the same routine. I finally allow my curiosity that has been gnawing at me to come to the fore, my desire to set off and explore a wing of the house I’ve never entered too much on a day like this.
So far, I’ve kept my movements to the living room, my bedroom, and the kitchen, occasionally venturing down the hallway past Adelbert’s study to look at my favorite painting there.
But today, I can’t sit still any longer. I unfold my legs from the couch and sit up. Sir Purrington perks up from his cushioned bed I’ve made him.
“Want to go on an adventure?” I ask my furry friend.
Sir Purrington extends his legs in front of his body and stretches lazily before trotting off toward the dimly lit corridor.
It’s as if my feet have a mind of their own as they follow Sir Purrington and take me to Adelbert’s wing.
I keep my footsteps light as I pad down dark hallways, skimming my fingers along the wall as I make my way farther into the house than I’ve been before. A tingling sensation works its way through my body and my heart starts pounding harder with each step. I try to slow down next to some landscape paintings that line the walls but nothing catches my attention enough to come to a complete stop.
A light tugging deep in my stomach pulls me toward a particular spot and my feet almost start skipping of their own accord, the excitement bubbling up through them as a sense of urgency intensifies.
Until I see it.
I come to a halt in front of a beautiful portrait of a male who looks to be a great ancestor of Adelbert. My eyes track over each detail, not quite understanding what I’m seeing.
In the center of the frame is a serene male with a secretive curve to his lips that brightens the entire image. He has the unmistakable Alberad platinum-blond hair, but where I expect to find silver eyes, his are a warm shade of hazel brown. The brushstrokes are painstakingly small, so fine you can hardly see them. And, as if to keep the male the sole object of your attention, the entire background has been painted in a solid dark brown.
“I see you have found the painting of an Alberad forefather.”
I shriek at the sudden sound of Adelbert’s voice and take a step back. I glance around the gloomy hallway, trying to find Sir Purrington as if he should’ve warned me of Adelbert’s arrival.
The traitor is nowhere to be seen.
“When did you get here? Don’t you know not to sneak up on people?” I chastise Adelbert as my cheeks flush with embarrassment at being caught, my heart ready to jump out of my chest.
“I was hardly trying to be quiet. You were just unaware of anything outside your realm of vision. What are you staring at?”
Do I detect amusement in his voice?This is the first time in weeks he’s attempted levity with me.
I clear my throat and tuck some hair behind my ear. “I’m sorry. I don’t know if I’m allowed to be here, but my feet—and Sir Purrington—just kind of brought me to this painting.”
Adelbert tilts his head and studies me, then the painting. His brows contract into their more familiar frown.
“Interesting.”
“Why do you say that?”
Adelbert crosses his arms and looks at the painting as he speaks. “This is a four-hundred-year-old painting and the only kind of it in the house. I pass it on a daily basis since my bedroom is right over there.” Adelbert points with his chin at a door on the left and continues with curiosity lacing his words, “I have not looked at this painting in years. However, related concepts to it have been on my mind lately.”
“Could these concepts maybe be about why this male has branches coming out of his head?” I ask and take a step closer to the painting without crossing into Adelbert’s comfort bubble.
“He is a woodland elf. My grandmother used to tell me old stories about them. Legend states that my lineage descended from these elves. What you are seeing are actually horns resembling branches.”
“That’s so cool. Could your ancestors talk to trees?” My excitement spills over to my words as I imagine being able to be one with nature and having conversations with the tall trees surrounding this property.
