Page 39 of The Elven Spymaster's Thief

He straightened in his chair and turned to eye me. “You seem to have a misunderstanding about our arrangement. You are here to keep me company, not for me to entertain you.”

“Ah, but you said I could annoy you.”

He sighed without conviction. “And you have been exercising that right with concerning frequency.”

I smirked at him. “It entertains me.”

His eyes darkened to the mossy green that promised what I sought, but without the flare of silver that almost guaranteed that I would get it.

“Take a break. Only a few minutes won’t hurt.” I prompted because that was more important than kisses.

“Fine.” He stood. “But only a few moments.”

“Good!” I set aside the book and leaped to my feet. “What shall we do?”

“Someone was suggesting I take a walk in my gardens.”

“Definitely good advice.” I shelved the book, and he cleared the table. When I returned, I caught him pocketing the pebbles.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yes. You won’t regret this,” I assured him as I led the way.

He muttered something I didn’t catch, but when I turned to ask him, he motioned for me to precede him.

Heart light at the prospect of his undivided attention, I had to slow my steps to a more sedate pace as I approached the stairs. But before I could descend, he caught my hand. Lacing his fingers through mine, he brought it up so he could kiss the back of my hand. “Now, which door should we take?”

Ignoring the sharp twist of eager delight, I smiled up at him and tugged him toward the conservatory. “Come. I want to show you the frog pond. Gnoble, his name has a silent G, you know, says he counted twenty frogs there this morning. I told him I was certain I had seen more than that.” I pulled Illeron out into the sunlight. “Will you help me count them?”

He did. I kept him out in the gardens for two hours before the arrival of a shadow elf called him back to work.

∞∞∞

Chapter Eleven

Avril

Three weeks passed. I managed to cajole Illeron into the gardens at least every other day.

Casimir seemed to approve of the change. He actually smiled at me one day when I was pestering Illeron about how under-exercised I was. As his pet, I needed regular walks in the garden, or I was liable to cause trouble and destroy things.

Although the news pouring in through his various spies did not improve, Illeron appeared less stressed than before my campaign. The elf king had approved Illeron’s plans for hiring an assistant. In fact, he demanded Illeron hire two because it would ease the flow of communication and offer even greater security. Hiring the assistants was taking far longer. The candidates had to be reliable, honest, organized, above reproach, and meet a whole host of additional requirements set forth by Illeron, Casimir, and the elven king.

The arranging of the meeting with the Seelie king had also run into difficulties. The Seelie king had apparently been cursed by the king of the Unseelie court. The restrictions of the curse put limits on when he could leave his realm and by whom he could be seen.

So, a meeting in the cool of the evening on the last night before a full moon was arranged. Illeron banished me from his study as the sun began to set. I didn’t catch all the details, but those I did included something about a human woman being the means of breaking the curse. Illeron decided this meant I needed to be out of sight.

So, I enjoyed a delightful dinner in the kitchen, during which Waldorf chattered about his latest recipe book and all the concoctions he wished to try. After this, I slipped into the gardens as the sun released its last grip on the sky and night settled in earnest around the estate.

The gardens were almost as beautiful at night as they were during the day. Tiny lights powered by magic lined the hedges. Strategically placed glowing plants offered further light so the paths were clearly lit.

Wandering toward the frog pond, I drew my shawl tightly around my shoulders against the subtly cooling breeze. The midnight blue fleece trimmed in silver-gray had been a gift from Illeron, along with the rest of my wardrobe. Unlike the rest of my new clothing, the shawl had clearly been made for someone taller than me. The ends fell past my knees, and the middle effortlessly draped my back from shoulders to hip.

Blagden appeared in one of the shadows. “Greetings, Lady Avril.” He inclined his head to me. “Pleasant evening for a walk.” He glanced about. “No, Master Whispier?”

Despite our rough beginning, he had warmed to me over the past few weeks. I glanced up at him. “Illeron had something of importance to attend to this evening. I decided a walk would be the perfect end to the evening. The gardens are so lovely.”

The elf scanned the landscape once again with a more considering gaze. “They are.” He offered me a weak smile. “I suppose I have always passed through them with far too much haste to appreciate it.”

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