A Deal with the Elf King - Elise Kova Page 0,59

to Midscape, you can explore Quinnar at your leisure. Past queens would even make trips out to the various strongholds and lands throughout the Elf Kingdom…or to the royal cottage. And, of course, you’ll cross the Fade every year to commune with the Natural World.”

I purse my lips. I can see where she’s coming from—how her logic is set up. I look up toward the long stairway leading into the mountain tunnel that crosses back to the Natural World.

“Rinni, why did you want to become a knight?” I ask.

“I… Because my father was a knight and I was his only child,” she says, tension raising her shoulders slightly.

“So it was always assumed of you?” I reason. She nods. “If you could be anything you want…what would it be?” Based on what I saw in her room, I suspect I already know the answer.

“A knight, like my father, and his father before him. I come from a long line of knights who have served the Elf Kings for centuries.”

“No.” I stop walking and Rinni does as well. “What do you want? Forget your family. You’re an orphan for one minute and have no idea who your parents were or what they did. What would you be?”

Rinni purses her lips. I can tell the question is uncomfortable for her. But she seems to be making an effort nonetheless.

“A painter,” she says, finally. “But—”

“No buts,” I interrupt. “You want to be a painter. You’re a knight because it’s what’s expected of you. And that’s fine.” I try not to judge her for it. Willow comes to mind as well, following in the steps of Poppy and Poppy’s grandparents before. Elves seem to enjoy doing things for tradition’s sake. “But you didn’t make that choice for yourself, not really. You made it because it was assumed you would and because, I’d guess, it would create tensions in your family if you hadn’t become a knight.”

She sighs and starts walking again, as if she can leave this conversation behind. I’m not ready to quit yet. But I do shift the focus.

“I’m not trying to attack or upset you,” I say.

“I wouldn’t let you upset me,” she mumbles.

“Good!” I laugh and smile at her. I see the tiniest smile in return. “I’m just trying to say…we’re not so different. And, maybe, because of that, you can understand how I feel. I had my own dreams, too, Rinni. I had a shop. I wanted to help people with my talents when it came to herbs and potions. The whole town depended on me and invested in me so I could do it. That profession—herbalist—was my painting. But the world wanted me to be something different.

“So, no, I’m not held hostage in the literal sense. But it can feel that way, especially because the life I planned for myself is out of reach.”

Rinni sighs and runs a hand through her blue-streaked hair. “I suppose, phrased like that, I can understand.”

“Thank you.” I nudge her and Rinni looks at me in surprise. I flash her a bright smile. “I appreciate the effort.”

A faint blush crosses her cheeks. Is she shocked by someone paying her a compliment?

“In any case,” Rinni says hastily. “We’re here.”

“Here?”

“The best cabinetmaker in Quinnar.”

The cabinetmaker’s shop is filled with showpieces and books with diagrams of intricate furniture. Sawdust floats in from the woodworking room in the back, resulting in the cabinetmaker fastidiously dusting his counters. I decide on a few pieces that he already has pre-fabricated, rather than going for anything too custom.

“I suspect he knows who I am,” I say to Rinni as we leave the shop.

“Maybe, likely, especially after seeing me with you, but he’s from a long line of cabinetmakers,” she says. Why am I not surprised? “They’ve been working with the castle for generations, so I trust his discretion. I wouldn’t have brought you there if I didn’t.”

We’re halfway back to the castle when she pauses. “Oh, here, there’s something I want you to try.”

We navigate through the flow of people out on the street. In the daylight, Quinnar is a completely different city. Elves bustle about, carts line up in front of shops: people selling everything from food, to jewels, to suspect potions that have me curling my nose.

Rinni leads me to a cart where a woman is grilling dough on a flat griddle. Rinni orders two and the woman takes the small cake, slices it in half, and fills it with cheese. After another minute on the grill, the melted

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