Page 16 of Enchanting the Elf
“Eager to finish your research? I must say, I am very much looking forward to your presentation this fall.”
“Yes, I am well prepared.”
My father’s jaw tightens. “I shall hope you do not embarrass me by postponing for another year. It has already brought so much shame to the Alberad name.”
“Yes,Vater. My apologies.”
His upper lip curls back. “I do not need your apologies. I need your excellence.”
“Yes,Vater.” I incline my head again.
He narrows his eyes at me. “I expect everything went smoothly at our Caribbean estate?”
I take a surreptitious breath and follow my age-old method of dealing with my father: keep responses short and deflect as soon as possible.
“Everyone had a great time. Is there any way I can be of assistance to you this morning?”
My father picks some invisible lint off the lapel of his jacket.
“Nothing I cannot manage. Though, I did detect a peculiarity in the ward this morning on your side. Must have been you crossing over earlier than anticipated.”
My Adam’s apple bobs on a hard swallow at the thought of not being thorough enough when we crossed the wards. I resist the temptation to curl my hands into fists at the mere possibility of my father discovering Florence sitting alone on the bench outside.
Knowing I need to conclude this conversation before he gets more suspicious, I say, “It most likely was. I better be off now. There is one specific case I would like to revisit before finalizing my presentation.”
My father raises his chin and looks down his nose at me, despite my taller height.
“I have high expectations of this… ‘research’ of yours that has taken so long. I still do not understand why you have not consulted me. Myexpertise has been sought by many who have come before you.”
I bow my head in submission, or perhaps to hide the frustration that is surely evident on my face by now.
“I wish to keep my theory private until the day of presentation.”
My father’s mouth turns down, disapproval radiating from him like I have just dog-eared his favorite book.
“So you have said. Best be off.” He makes a shooing motion and walks in the opposite direction.
When the main door shuts behind him, I finally allow myself to release the breath I had been holding.
I glance at the windows and note how much lighter it has gotten in the short time I spent talking to my father. An unpleasant sensation stirs in my chest thinking about Florence sitting unguarded and alone behind the stone wall, and a sense of urgency nips at my heels as I hasten to the section dedicated to the fates.
Canting my head to see around the stack of Elvish tomes in my arms, I adjust my grip, taking care to hold the books steady against my body. I may be in a rush to return to Florence, though, not at the risk of facing the librarian’s wrath over a damaged book.
Luckily, I make it through the back corridor without encountering anyone else, and I exit into the morning light.
My feet carry me to Florence, and I ignore the brief, weak sensation in my knees when she spots me and a wide grin blooms across her face.
That smile will plague me for months once she has left.
If seeing my father today proved anything, it is that I should get her out of Germany and away from me sooner rather than later.
Perched on Florence’s lap is our resident library cat—the laziest, most inept of creatures. It showed up at Alberad one day, made itself at home, and no one has been able to get it to leave.
“You’re back,” Florence whispers brightly. Her eyes are on me, but her attention remains on the cat as she keeps stroking it.
“What are you doing with the cat? It is not a pet.”
“What? He’s lovely and so sweet,” Florence says with her lips forming a pout.
