She knew she couldn't be burned like other people, but had no idea that sufficient emotional turmoil would generate actual flame in her hands. Now, in addition to everything else, she was afraid that, if The Order found out, she'd be reclassified as dangerous. Oddly enough, no one ever questioned how the fire in the pub had started. Perhaps they were too caught up in the elf versus fae drama.
Late that night, when it would be early morning on the Pacific coast, she had called home and asked Cufay if he had any previous indication of her fire-starting. He was surprised, but didn't seem the least worried, saying he knew she would work it out.
So adding to the list of Storm's undesirable qualities of being mean, rude, and hostile to witches, he was a trigger for a heretofore unknown ability that threatened the safety of persons, property, and perhaps even Litha's own future and freedom.
Maybe he was right. Truncating the highly unconventional beginnings of a relationship that wouldn't work for either of them was the best thing to do. Better now than later.
B Team came to dinner in their dress uniforms. Like her teammates, Elora wore the black sileather pants, black long sleeve knit shirt, Black Watch tartan sash and Black Swan pin. She was surprised by how many people were in attendance.
They had allowed Aelsong to come since she was officially employed by The Order and was the inductee's sister. Only one other honoree was still living and, at eighty-seven, said he wouldn't have missed it. The royal family had sent the prince as their representative.
When they removed the silk draping from Ram's portrait, Elora didn't even try to stop big tears from rushing down her cheeks and falling on the wool sash of her dress uniform. He looked exactly as he had that Yuletide day she arrived at the cottage in New Forest, with his hair pulled back behind his ears, in hunting costume, and his Black Watch Tartan gathered around his shoulders. The artist was as masterful as Rembrandt. The portrait, beautiful beyond description with mere words, but not nearly so beautiful as the elf himself. He beamed as she pressed her lips to his ear and told him there never had lived a male more glorious.
It hadn't escaped Elora's notice that Prince Duff Torquil and Princess Aelsong Hawking continually stole furtive glances at one another throughout the ceremony. She was hoping it had escaped the attention of everyone else.
As inductee, Ram was toasted with champagne and asked to personally speak to everyone in attendance. While he was busy, Elora saw an opportunity to have a word with the fae prince, who was, in his own right, handsome as any fairytale ever imagined in his kilt which was probably his uniform for official state occasions.
She knew she might have only a couple of moments to talk without being overheard.
"Your highness," she began, "I'm Elora Laiken, proud spouse of the honoree."
Up close she could see that the dark blue in his eyes was coupled with shades of violet. They were so unusual she may have stared just a second too long.
With a smile he said: "I well remember seein' you in the pub last night."
"Was that just last night?" She looked genuinely surprised and he laughed. "Is it difficult for you being here to honor an elf?"
The prince's smile didn't falter, but he seemed to be trying to judge what she might be after. "No' at all, madam. Like many of my contemporaries, I believe 'tis time to put our differences aside. So far as I can tell, it serves no constructive purpose. In short, 'tis silly to continue for the sake of continuin'. But, if I see that in a headline on the morrow claimin' to quote me, I will deny it 'til the Highlands look level."
"I'm pleased to hear your progressive views on the subject. I vow your secret is safe with me though I must add that, if everyone keeps their more abrasive views secret, nothing ever changes."
The prince pursed his lips and nodded. "A good point and well said."
"These contemporaries who share your views were not with you at the pub."
"'Tis true. You caught me sneakin' out on my miscreant night." Elora had to laugh. "Boys from school who can be a little rough after a few pints."
The young prince had an engaging way about him. "It's been very nice to have this talk. I will try to get my husband to reexamine his position on the feud." The prince's lips twitched when she said the word feud. He was thinking that only an outsider could so minimize the past thousand years of elf and fae at war with each other. "And I will also work on my esteemed brother-in-law from the inside."
"Esteemed. A cautious compliment I would say." Torquil's eyes twinkled.
Elora laughed. "You've met him?"
The prince shook his head slightly. "Certainly no'. Let us say I have heard he is no'... a lot of laughs." They both shared a chuckle at the expense of the King of Ireland.
"Perhaps you could begin to ease your own reservations about the status quo into the discussion in your household as well?'
"'Tis a good plan and certainly I enjoy a conspiracy as much as the next prince, but my elders are no' showin' signs of bein' moved either in their political views or away from the throne. 'Twill likely be a long time fore I am king.
"If I may ask, though, what is your mate's position on this question?"
"He's never spelled it out as such, but the night I first met him, he turned red in the face and turned over a chair at dinner because he thought I was calling him a fairy."
The prince looked serious. "Were you?"
She smiled. "It was an error of innocence. I come from a culture where everyone knows a collection of stories by the name fairytales. Something about that was mentioned."
"I see. And he was much offended."