corner of Sylas’s mouth turns up with apparent amusement. “We fae enjoy a variety of entertainment. If we can bring humans themselves over, why not their amusements as well?”
“I just—I wouldn’t have thought—” I’m not sure I have the words to explain how bizarre it is imagining the imposing faerie lord chilling out in front of the latest Hollywood flick. If I found them, I’m afraid they’d end up coming out in a way that offends him.
“It’s mostly August who plays the games,” Sylas says, ambling past the TV. “Helps him work out some of his aggressive impulses. We have to replace the controllers rather more frequently than I’d prefer.”
It’s not difficult to imagine the exuberant fae man perched on the sofa with controller in hand, whooping in triumph as he kicks digitized ass in a fighting game or sports simulation. My own mouth twitches into a smile.
“What part of this collection is yours?”
Sylas motions to the DVDs. “Mostly the movies. A… past associate of mine introduced me to human cinema.”
I step closer, peering at the spines. Some of the titles I don’t recognize—movies that must have been from well before my time or that came out after I was stolen away—but others jump out at me. Mean Girls. Zoolander. 17 Again. Legally Blonde. They stir up memories of surfing through Netflix on sleepover nights.
I glance at Sylas, unable to stop my eyebrows from rising. “You like the comedies, huh?”
Is there a hint of embarrassment in his smile now? He laughs with a casual shrug. “I have enough drama and combat in my life here. It’s fascinating how humans can make an entire story where nothing happens that really matters, and everyone ends up with what they deserve, happy or not.”
Maybe I should be insulted by that assessment of my species’ efforts, but I find it too funny that he likes watching this stuff at all. The comment spills out unthinking. “You’ll have to catch me up on some of the good recent ones.”
Sylas gives me a measured look as if trying to decide whether I’m serious. I can’t really tell whether I am myself—it’s impossible to picture sitting next to this regal giant of a man while he laughs at some slapstick joke and tosses back a handful of popcorn. Does he sit through the comedies with nothing more than one of those restrained smiles? Or maybe he does loosen up now and then… though that doesn’t mean he’d want me seeing him like that.
In the end, he chooses not to address my remark at all. “Any time you’d like to relax in here, just let me, August, or Whitt know and we’ll open the room for you. I thought you might need more to keep you occupied beyond acting as kitchen servant.”
“I really don’t mind helping with the cooking,” I say quickly, in case he’s gotten the idea that August pressured me into that job somehow. The faint pressure of the pouch of salt in my pocket makes me feel extra defensive of the younger man. Then I pause. “Why do you keep this room locked at all?”
Sylas’s lips twitch again, but this time it looks like he held back a grimace. “Kellan has some strong opinions about anything to do with humans, as you’ve undoubtedly observed. He wouldn’t go out of his way to damage what we’ve collected here, but if he happened to wander in when he’s in the wrong sort of mood—it’s easier to simply ensure that set of circumstances never occurs.”
Then I’ll be safe from that brute in here too. I’m liking this setup more and more. For however long I’m still staying in the keep, at least.
That last thought brings a gloom over me. I sink onto the sofa and pick up a video game magazine someone—August?—left tucked into the crease by the arm. My gaze skims over the computer-generated warrior on the cover, the bold headlines—and snags on the date of the issue beneath the title.
For a second, I just stare at it, my body rigid. Sylas looms closer, frowning. “Is something the matter?”
“How long ago is this magazine from?” I ask, my voice sounding distant to my ears.
“A moon or two ago,” Sylas says, which I guess means a month. “You look as if something about it disturbs you.”
“No—I mean, sort of—” An awkward laugh spills out of me. “I just didn’t realize how long it’s been. I was trying to keep track of the years while I was locked up