Page 8 of Enchanting the Elf
Florence’s hands still their motion through her wavy strands. Her hair looks so soft, I wonder what it would feel like to glide my fingers through them, or wrap them around my fist.
No! There is no time for lascivious thoughts.
There is a crisis currently unfolding and as the sole heir to Alberad, I am responsible for solving it. All thoughts of Florence—and her hair—need to be firmly locked away, never to be revisited again.
With the kindest eyes and a pale pink dusting her cheeks, Florence says, “Thank you for your hospitality. Is there anything we can do to help you with your research?”
Why does she have to be so nice? So beautiful?
I answer stiffly, “No, thank you. It would be most convenient for everyone to get settled for the evening. Ladies, please help yourself to some refreshments in the dining room before retiring to the east wing. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask one of the males, or you could approach me in the library on the second floor of the main building. Once again, please refrain from making any physical contact for the time being.”
Harvey steps into my line of sight and holds up a hand. “Excuse me, Bert. If I may make a suggestion?”
I incline my head toward Harvey, signaling for him to continue and knowing the women are in good hands with his gentle, caring nature, then I silently slip out of the room and head to the library.
I don’t dare to look back to see Florence’s expression.
Chapter six
Adelbert
I trudge through the house and push open the heavy door to the library. Though only a fraction of the size of the official Alberad library in Germany, I hold a certain amount of hope that I will be able to find a way to rid ourselves of these strange markings.
I quickly scan the shelves for any books containingAmartoin their title, hoping the Elvish word for “the fates” might lead me in the right direction.
One by one, the rest of the males join me in the library and meticulously comb through the shelves. Harvey finds mekneeling on the floor as I trace the titles of each book on the bottom shelf, finding nothing promising in this section.
“Bertie, your Elvish is better than any of ours. How about you go take a seat at the desk and we will bring you anything we think might be relevant,” Harvey suggests gently.
I look up to find a few of my friends standing over me, their faces lined with determination to assist me in my search.
“That is a kind offer,” I acknowledge. “I shall start with the ones I have selected. Please bring me anything regarding the fates, unintentional pairings, or magical tattoos.”
“I’ll come with you,” Edmond says, picking up half of the stack of books I have selected. “I’ve kept up my Elvish and it will go faster if you have help.”
“Thank you,” I say, accepting Edmond’s assistance. Walking toward the heavy desk at the back of the room, I ask him, “Is there a reason you have continued reading Elvish texts?”
“I’ve always been fascinated by theories behind magic and, as a hobby of sorts, I like to spend my time diving deeper into it.”
We set our books on the desk and take our seats across from each other. Mine is a typical high-backed chair, and Edmond’s is a specially designed low-backed chair to accommodate his wings. Prior to our reunion, I made sure a variety of seating options were delivered to the estate in order to accommodate the different species present.
Opening the first tome related to magic markings, I ask Edmond, “Have you ever considered a career in academia?”
Without looking up, I can sense Edmond’s wings spreading in the way the air shifts around us. His bitterness presses against me as he says, “If schools ever accept professors of species other than elves, it would be something I’d be interested in.”
That gets my attention. I look up, placing a hand on the page to keep my place. My lip curls back, and my irritation grows with every word as I say, “It is an atrocity that they do not welcomeother species to instruct on various topics.” My disgust for the hierarchical exclusion of other species in education makes my blood boil, and a shudder rolls down my spine. “I cannot help but feel that there is a wealth of knowledge we are missing out on by not diversifying the education field.”
“Agreed. But one can only dare to dream,” Edmond says with a faint smile.
Slowly, we sift through tome after tome, modern ones and ancient ones, no closer to finding any answers. Time coils tighter around my windpipe with every tick of the clock. My hope to find anything withers away as the minutes pass.
“I think I’ve found something here. Anyone else have any luck?” Everett asks.
Without the tiniest spark of optimism, I hold my hand out for the book. “None so far. Let me see.”
The title readsSigns of Magic Through the Ages.
I shake my head and tug on my hair. “Nothing in this one. I read the English version already.”
