“I am safeguarding the security of our world.”
“Sounds a bit lofty to me.” She studied my list. Her hand rested on my shoulder. As she leaned forward, her thick braid of orange-scented hair slid over her arm and brushed my sleeve, the end coming to rest on the back of my hand.
“I only speak the truth.” I caught the end of her braid, stopping it from tickling me. The curls slipped between my fingers, the hair so soft and silky. “The information we collect is shared with our allies and used against those who seek to harm them and any innocent.”
“Are there always so many reports?” She withdrew and picked up the list I had been preparing.
“Not always. Nefarious activity has increased. Discontent among the warlords in the north, the resuming of the Wild Hunt outside Unseelie lands, and now there are rumors of unrest in the south as well.” I rubbed my right eyebrow. “I have been summoned by the king of Eldarlan. I am to appear before him tonight, and I have to have a plan before then.”
Avril lowered the list and regarded me solemnly over the top of it. “You can’t do it all.”
I laughed wryly. “I will do my best.”
“No, I mean it.” She set the list on the top of my stacks and turned to face me. With her standing and me sitting, her chin could’ve rested on my forehead. I had to look up slightly to meet her gaze. “One man?elf cannot do this alone. Surely there must be someone who can assist you.”
“Many do. Hundreds of elves, allies, and spies help. How do you think I get all of this?” I waved to the reports.
“No, I mean assist with the filtering and organizing of the information. Trying to ascertain what is vital from the dross of ‘this king decided to eat this for breakfast’ is something that a well-trained assistant could do.”
“But sometimes those details are important,” I protested. “Changes in habits can hint at deeper issues.”
“And who knows these details beside you?”
“Casimir consolidates the reports.”
“What about the verbal ones?”
“He doesn’t listen to those.”
“And if something happens to you?” she asked.
“Are you threatening me again?” I responded in an effort to ease the growing tension in my gut.
She sighed heavily. “No.” A flash of grief flickered in her expression before she turned away to survey my mess. “I just want to help. You should be free to walk your own garden paths occasionally.” She evaded my questing hand and walked back to her place.
I picked up my list again and tried to think of additional possibilities. My mind wouldn’t focus. It fixated on Avril’s last point. She was correct. All it would take was for me to die or be severely injured, and our whole nation’s safety would be hampered. Not paralyzed—I wasn’t that vital—but it would definitely be difficult for the king and others to make critical decisions without the information I processed and passed on daily. The analyst in me couldn’t ignore the risk our current setup exposed us to.
Dropping the page to the table, I leaned back in my chair. How could I fix it? Who could I trust with so much power and responsibility? I would have to find someone quick, efficient, and reliable. Trustworthiness was a must. Not just someone I was comfortable with, but also someone the king approved of. I needed to discuss it with him at our meeting.
My attention strayed to my companion. She sat cross-legged in the upholstered chair with her head bent over another historical tome. This one focused on the gargoyles and their culture. It was strange that the very companion I had acquired in response to his complaint only further emphasized Casimir’s point. I was lonely and a workaholic.
“You are right,” I muttered.
Avril's head rose. She regarded me with slightly unfocused eyes, still clearly thinking of the book in her lap. “Pardon?”
“I do need help. The fact I haven’t provided a backup for myself is a flaw in the system. It exposes us to unnecessary risk. I shall start rectifying that tonight.”
“Good.” She smiled, brightening the room and easing the tension in my chest.
Fighting the impulse to abandon my work and kiss her again, I nodded perfunctorily instead. She returned to reading, and I to my work.
∞∞∞
Avril
The tension in Illeron’s shoulders made my own ache in sympathy. His chocolate curls were tussled from the many times he ran his hands through them as he thought. If he rubbed his eyebrows one more time, they might disappear.
I suppressed a worried sigh. He worked too hard. Despite his protests and grumblings whenever anyone pointed it out, it was the truth. Over the weeks I had observed him and learned his habits, I had grown into agreement with his brother.