Page 89 of Enchanting the Elf
“Okay. Because if that male says something mean to you, I can’t promise I won’t say something mean to him, too.”
Adelbert gives me an indulgent smile that says a lot more than his words would and takes my hand again before we cross into Alberad.
Hidden behind a thicket of trees, I peek through the leaves at the high-back chairs set up in a semicircle in the center of the manicured garden and the ten elves mingling about.
Adelbert mentioned he will present to the “top scholars of the supernatural community,” but it’s curious that the only “top scholars” here are elves. It’s something he hopes to change one day.
Adelbert stands in the center with relaxed shoulders and an easy grin when two elves approach him. He shakes hands withthe haughty males who give his hair and clothes judgmental glances.
Since Adelbert’s horns appeared last week, he’s stopped constantly sweeping his hair back and just lets the strands fall where they want. He’s now got very sexy ruffled hair that flops across his forehead in the yummiest way.
Adelbert has also swapped his sweaters for flannel shirts. After struggling with sweaters and stretching out their collars around his horns, he’s had to find alternate clothing options that are easier to work with. Plus, the material catches less on the barky portions of his skin. He had to contact Sawyer for recommendations for durable fabrics without fully revealing what had happened yet. The bear shifter had a lot of fun on that phone call and the fact that Adelbert called him for fashion advice when he wears what Dede calls “lumberjack-chic clothes.”
“Scholars,” comes the clipped greeting of Nithard Alberad.
My lips instinctively pull back when I catch sight of him as he strides into view like he’s the MVP of the day. In his mind, he probably is.
“Please take your seats for the presentation to commence,” Nithard says with a voice that matches his icy eyes. Even though Adelbert’s eyes were silver before, they were never cold like his father’s.
There’s some rustling as the other nine elves sit, but no one speaks.
Nithard stands slightly in front of Adelbert and addresses the group.
“Firstly, I would like to apologize for this highly unusual setup. It is at the request of my son to have today’s proceedings outside.”
Oh, this infuriating male.
Nithard’s little indirect jabs are so cruel, they make me want to say something. But I’ll wait. I’ll let my Adelbert have his moment. Though, if his father dares to take it too far, I won’t be held responsible for my actions.
A leaf stretches toward my face and comforts me with a brush against my cheek. I always knew I loved this forest, but since knowing I’m connected to it, it feels even more alive to me. I smile and take a deep, calming breath in, thankful that the whole forest is working to keep me obscured from view, and supporting me emotionally too.
With his gentle smile still in place, Adelbert moves next to his father and shoots me a surreptitious glance before meeting Nithard’s eyes.
“Thank you,Vater. You may also take your seat.”
Nithard’s eyes flare and the way his muscles in his jaw bunch is evident of what he thinks of the dismissal, but he turns on his heel and takes the center seat.
Adelbert looks at each elf in turn, and says warmly, “Thank you to all who have traveled from far away to be here today. I promise to make the trip worth the effort.”
Heads turn to their neighbors and brows crease at the statement. They’re probably wondering if it’s arrogance or sincerity talking, no doubt trying to read Adelbert’s emotions.
Adelbert puts his hands in his pockets and the female elf on the left bristles in her seat at the gesture. The male next to her notes it too and his chin lifts in distaste.
“When it came time to pick my topic of research, I scoured the library for an idea of which direction I wanted to take my studies. I read tome after tome, finding a multitude of interesting topics about woodland elves and elvish magic. Until one day, I stumbled upon a passage in one particularly old book.” Adelbert pauses for effect, then says, “A passage regarding mage hands.”
A scoff emanates from the right of the circle, but Adelbert ignores it.
“Once thought obsolete, even a myth at most, I am pleased to say, is an actual fact very much alive.”
Nithard crosses his arms over his chest. Mouth turned down, he says, “Prove it.”
Adelbert smiles warmly at him, perhaps even enjoying this moment of distrust.
“I already have. Please check your bags.”
A female elf leans forward and rummages through her handbag.
“Whose is this?” she asks and holds up sunglasses that don’t match her look.
