the moment.”
The king and the translator exchanged smiles that were faintly reminiscent of cats that had just cornered a mouse.
Arvel looked back and forth between the pair and hoped he hadn’t made a mistake. “Thank you for making the request.”
“Of course! You can consider this my send-off present, since I’ll still see you plenty during socials and what have you.” Rollo winked.
King Petyrr narrowed his eyes. “You’re certain you’re not interested in her?”
Arvel kept his expression as mild as he could muster. “What do you mean?”
The Calnorian King heaved a mighty sigh and muttered to himself under his breath. “Most unromantic sons in the whole realm! Should be awake to the delights of romance by now, but no. Not even a possible daughter-in-law candidate!”
He shook his head a little, then rocked to his feet. “I believe that covers everything we needed to speak to you about, didn’t it?” He peered back at Rollo, who bowed.
“It did indeed, Your Majesty.”
King Petyrr swiped his crown off the table and plopped it back on his head, still managing to have a royal bearing despite his casual actions. “Good, good. Oh—except, Arvel, I’d recommend hiding in your office tomorrow. Your mother mentioned introducing you to more marriage candidates tomorrow morning.”
Arvel grimaced. “Thanks for the warning. Although I’m surprised you chose to share your information. Given your penchant for daughters-in-law I would have thought you’d be on Mother’s side.”
Although his mother pushed every eligible lady she thought she could use at Arvel, King Petyrr had taken the opposite stance and rarely mentioned Arvel’s status as a single man, except to bemoan his lack of an additional daughter-in-law. And even that seemed to be only when King Petyrr used it as a cover of sorts.
“Yes…well…” King Petyrr made a gruff noise at the back of his throat. “We’ll be taking our leave. I look forward to meeting this little apprentice friend of yours—if Rollo can wrangle her for you.” He winked, and was off, marching through the library shelves with familiarity. “Come along, Rollo!”
Rollo bowed. “Your Royal Highness.” He flashed his familiar and mischievous grin. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Arvel waved, though neither of them looked back, and settled deeper into his chair. I don’t like throwing my title around, but if it means I end up with a friendly translator…I hope she doesn’t mind.
3
Myth sipped at her tea, humming in appreciation over its cinnamon flavor. “This is fantastic. I don’t think I’ve ever had it before,” she said in Calnoric.
Blaise, Myth’s best friend, carefully nestled her teacup into a saucer. “I believe Wizard Edvin said it is an import from one of our neighboring countries.” She spoke in slow but careful Elvish, then looked at Myth for approval.
“Your pitch went up at the end of that sentence,” Myth said, still speaking in Calnoric. “It should have gone down.”
Blaise pushed a lock of her gorgeous russet colored hair out of her eyes. “I believe Wizard Edvin said it is an import from one of our neighboring countries,” she repeated, stressing the lower pitch at the end.
“Excellent. You spoke a little faster that time as well. You’re rapidly improving.”
“You are too kind,” Blaise said, stubbornly sticking to Elvish. “I can barely spoke.”
“Speak,” Myth corrected. “That was the wrong tense.”
“Speak. Goodness—I should have known that.” Blaise puffed out her cheeks in vexation, then grinned. “Thank you for always tutoring me.”
“Of course. It is an honor to my people that you wish to speak our language,” Myth said.
Blaise snorted. “Yes, I’m certain my incorrect intonation brings much honor. You sound so pretty when you speak Elvish. I sound like, like…” She pressed her lips together, visibly restraining herself from speaking in Calnoric. “Not a toad, but similar.”
“Frog?” Myth suggested in Elvish.
“Yes! That’s the word!”
Myth smiled as she set her saucer down on a small table placed between their comfortable but worn chairs.
As was their custom, they were taking tea together in the central chamber of the Wizards’ Tower. Blaise was an apprentice wizard, which meant she had free run of the place and could invite guests in whenever she liked.
Myth enjoyed visiting with Blaise in the tower. The interior was unique, with a giant stone staircase spiraling all the way up the tower, cutting a clear path so Myth could see the glass windows that capped the top of the building. Today they were fogged by the weather, giving the tower a misty feeling.
The chamber itself was very…golden. The walls were carved of stone—black, white, and gray, but