The Prince's Bargain - K.M. Shea Page 0,30
worshipful gazes with another elf? Why must I always have contestants for your love?”
“I stopped flirting with Fyn when you nearly emptied my study of my books,” Arvel snorted.
Gwendafyn smiled brightly at her husband, but she still didn’t release Myth’s hands. “Ben, this is Mythlan—she’s Arvel’s new translator, and she’s offered to help us at any social events as well.”
Us? Now Prince Benjimir is included in the list as well?? Myth kept her smile as set as iron so her eyes didn’t pop out of her skull. I don’t recall the Translators’ Circle saying anything about any of this when they foisted me off on Arvel!
Prince Benjimir tipped his head so his cheek pressed into the top of Gwendafyn’s hair.
They were a splendid pair—one for the storybooks, as Benjimir was tall, broad shouldered, and had bright gold hair with stately blue eyes like every storybook prince. Princess Gwendafyn was a stark but lovely contrast with her dark hair and purple eyes.
“Mythlan.” Prince Benjimir gave her a quick visual inspection. “Well met. Thank you for your generous offer, and for looking after Gwendafyn.”
“Your Highness.” Myth bowed awkwardly, her hands still stretched in front of her because Gwendafyn hadn’t released them.
Benjimir smiled, which significantly lightened the noble and almost molded expression of his face. Thankfully, he turned his attention to his brother. “I heard about Mother’s little request. I’m sorry for it.”
Arvel shrugged. “She felt the need to bare her teeth at me—what can I do? I don’t have the seniority to fully refuse her; Father would have to be involved for that.”
Benjimir growled. “He should have been involved. He’s normally good with that sort of thing. I question why he has suddenly turned doddering fool when it comes to Mother.”
“He probably has a plan,” Arvel said blandly. “He always plays casual or acts like he doesn’t know what’s going on whenever he’s about to pull off one of his best laid plans.”
Benjimir frowned. “Really?”
“Always. Since forever.”
“Myth.” Gwendafyn gently squeezed Myth’s fingers. “I must thank you in advance for your help. I’m afraid to say I’m aware my Calnoric still isn’t where it should be, so I’m grateful you’ll be with Arvel.”
“Again, it is my honor, My Princess.” Myth tried to bow again, but it was still a little awkward.
“Thank you. Calnoric continues to be a weak spot for me.” Gwendafyn heaved a sigh. “I wish it came to me as easily as fighting and magic.”
“Your ability to wield High Elf magic is once in a millennium, My Princess.”
“Thank you, but Seer Ringali is discovering others who can wield it, too.”
“Perhaps, but none of them with the same power and efficiency as you,” Myth firmly said. “I am more convinced of that than ever since reading more about it.”
Gwendafyn’s eyes went from laughter and beauty to sharp and deadly-elegant. “Reading about it? But there aren’t many records of High Elf magic written by Lesser Elves.”
Myth tried not to look starry eyed at the shift in Gwendafyn, which hinted at the ancient magic she used. “No, there aren’t,” she agreed. “I was referring to books written by High Elves.”
“High Elves?” Gwendafyn stared at Myth, her tone loud and passionate.
“Yes…there are a few volumes in the Library of Haven?” Myth meekly supplied.
“But how can you read them?” Gwendafyn asked. “While we technically shared the Elvish language with them, I’ve been told by various enchanters that our language has morphed over the years, changing it nearly beyond recognition. It’s feasible to pick out symbols and some words among the runes the High Elves used, but a pure translation is beyond most.”
Myth thoughtfully pressed her lips together. “It can be rather difficult.”
“Difficult?” Gwendafyn repeated.
“It takes me quite a bit of time, and it’s rather slow going,” Myth quickly said. She didn’t want to appear prideful to Princess Gwendafyn of all people. “But I enjoy the challenge, and my closest friend is a human wizard with a particular interest in the magic of Nodusigm—the bonding ceremony. She asked for my help in researching it, and since our history says the bond was originally based on a High Elf spell, I thought I might find something of use…if I can ever read the full manuscripts.”
“That’s fascinating.” Princess Gwendafyn finally let go of Myth’s hands—all so she could tap her chin as she studied Myth. “Is your friend your age?”
“Approximately.”
“It is to your credit that you are both so obviously bright and intelligent.”
“Fyn.” Benjimir stepped away from Gwendafyn, only to take up her hand. “I’m sorry to pull you