Page 24 of Bewitched By the Djinn
Chapter
Seven
“So before you will share this brilliant idea with me, I must be forced into manual labor?” Bennet swipes at the pot in the sink, his grip on the sponge uncertain.
I set two more plates and a cup in front of him. “If you think doing a few dishes is manual labor, you should try cleaning Kevin and Jackie’s bathroom.” I shudder. “That place is like the seventh circle of hell, complete with a rarely flushed toilet, mystery fluids stuck to the mirror, and toothpaste on the ceiling. How does anyone get toothpaste on the ceiling?”
“I assume that is a rhetorical question.”
Judging by his weak attempt at scraping the food from the plate, he probably hasn’t lifted a finger his whole life. “Do you not clean in Aetheria?”
“I have servants. And magic.” He says it so matter-of-factly. “I’ve never had need to subject myself to menial tasks.”
I snort. “And they wonder why we say ‘eat the rich.’”
His head snaps toward me, alarm flickering across his features. “What does that mean?”
I sigh. “You wouldn’t understand.” I don’t give him a chance to press further. “What did you do in Aetheria exactly?”
“What do you mean?”
I wave a hand vaguely. “Like, day to day. What did you do with your time?”
Bennet picks up a wet plate and dries it, a little too methodically, like he’s considering his answer. “I have many important duties and responsibilities to the crown.”
“Uh-huh. Such as?”
“Training with the guards in the morning, then meeting with dignitaries from neighboring kingdoms to manage disputes and hash out trade agreements and whatnot.”
“Oh. Sounds important. You must be a whizz at economics.”
The plate in his hand freezes a moment, his eyes glued to it. “Not exactly. We have ministers and advisory councils to write the agreements.”
“So that makes you the big ideas guy, and leaves the minions to hash it out?”
He turns the plate over without meeting my gaze. “Uncle sets the agenda. In consultation with his ministers.”
I lean a hip against the counter. “So you’re there to ease the way. Get the right people in the room, get them talking?”
That must be the most fascinating plate in his universe, because his eyes haven’t met mine once. “Actually...”
This conversation is like wringing water from granite. “So, how big is Aetheria? How many kingdoms are there?”
He finally sets the plate down. “I’m not sure how large it is in relation to the mortal realm. We are told stories of how our lands were once mirror images of the other, and connected, but Aetheria is shaped and formed by the connection between its magic and its people. It grows and contracts with the balance of power.”
“So it’s, like, alive?”
He rinses out a cup. “In a sense. All things are alive. The land responds to magic the way plants respond to sunlight. Strongmagic makes the land flourish. When it wanes, or is corrupted, it withers. That’s part of why borders shift.”
I squint. “Are you saying Aetheria can literally change shape?”
He nods. “It has, in the past. The old maps don’t always match the new ones. Right now, Aetheria is divided into four regions. Each has its own culture, courts, and ruling families. Sometimes allies, sometimes rivals.”
I need a map or something. “You keep calling this the ‘mortal realm.’ Does that mean you are immortal?”
“We are not immortal, per se, because we age and can be killed, but we do live longer than you.”
“How much longer?” I cross my arms over my chest.
