Page 20 of Dark Elf's Good Girl

She despises them.

Mother picked Isla apart from the appetizer, right through to dessert which she forbade Isla from eating, because Isla “is fat enough as it is already”.

Mother started by criticizing all humans, and then she started in on human women.

Eventually, when that rant ended, she began accusing Isla’s mother of being a slut and a whore.

Isla’s pale skin had gone red at that point.

That was when I sensed that Isla had a little more fight in her than most human women.

She probably would have strangled mother if she was given the chance.

But who wouldn’t want to do that?

I wanted to defend her so badly, but I could not do anything without making things worse for her.

If Mother thought that Isla had even one supporter, she’d make life miserable for Isla.

And if Calix guesses how I feel about Isla – although I am not even sure of how I feel – then he will do everything in his power to destroy her.

All just to spite me.

Isla did not deserve that.

She did not deserve to be treated that way.

I was able to see more of her body in the dress, which was more revealing than she must have been comfortable with.

Her body is rounded and soft in all the right places, but I cannot help but wonder what she did for a living before Calix bought her.

Her upper arms are muscular, and I could see the outline of her thighs and calves through the dress, and they are muscular too.

I swallow and push the thoughts of Isla’s body away. She doesn’t need that. She already has my brother wanting to violate her.

Sleep is going to be impossible tonight.

It has been two hours since dinner ended and I have already completed my evening ablutions, and instead of being in bed, I am pacing up and down in front of my bedroom window.

The moon is bright and fat and Full tonight and the silvery-white light of it is almost blinding.

It shines directly into my bedroom – the curtains aren’t drawn – and I stop in front of it as I try to figure out what to do.

Should I go check on her?

Maybe it is better that I just leave her be.

What in the name of the Thirteen should I do?

After a while, I leave my quarters and start pacing up and down the long hallways.

Isla’s room is close by.

I have never been more tempted to do something in my life, than I am now.

My legs are straining thirty minutes later, when I am still pacing up and down.

I wonder what the servants think I am doing. Surely they can hear me?

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