by Lisa Kumar
At times, though, she wanted those ties. Desire warred with reason until she couldn’t decide which might be the true victor. This whole situation would be so much easier if he were a normal man. Natalie shook her head in despair. Lorh wouldn’t be the same. He would be human then, not fey. Such an alteration couldn’t produce the same male she’d come to know in the past four days. She wouldn’t change him even if she could.
None of this helped her with her so-called decision. She let her head fall back. With each passing second, it only became harder to separate her wishes from her needs. Unraveling their horrible tangle was not only exhausting but impossible.
Where was Lorh? She hoped she didn’t have to wait much longer. He had a gift for making her most distressing thoughts flee, which was strange because he was the cause of most of them. Lifting her head, she flexed tense shoulders, seeking to relieve some of their stiffness.
Her fingers ghosted over the row of books she’d been browsing. Such a simple touch grounded her, tethering her to the present.
A hand snaked around her waist, and a warm mouth nuzzled her cheek. Long brown hair brushed against her neck. As Lorh pulled her back against him, her stiff body melted. She could never maintain her composure around him, especially when he was being romantic.
To fight or accept her attraction were the two choices, and as she’d never been one to delude herself, she gave a sigh of contentment. “I feared you might not be able to meet.”
“I always keep my appointments with you if at all possible. You might have to wait a few minutes, but I will arrive.”
“It’s a good thing I’m blessed with patience then.”
He murmured against her neck, “That isn’t what I would call it. Patience never has been your strong area.”
“And what do you know of it?”
“More than you would ever expect.”
“Not a cryptic answer again. Don’t you ever get tired of them?”
“Ah, but I would never see you flounder so charmingly then.”
She craned her neck and threw him an accusatory glance. Her reward was the gleam of white teeth. “I thought you were supposed to be ‘guiding’ me.”
“I am, but who says I can’t have a little enjoyment while I do so?”
“Your mind shouldn’t be on fun.” She swiveled in his embrace so she could jab him with a finger. He grabbed her hand, holding it flat against his chest. The beat of his heart thrummed through her fingers, making her palm tingle.
“Where should it be then?”
She stared at him. “On our situation, on me.”
His hands slipped to her back. “It is. You’re on my mind day and night, so I do what I must to keep smiling.”
“Nice to know you need something to keep you smiling when you think of me.” Her dry tone hardly hinted at the hurt his words caused.
His hands stilled on her back as he gratifyingly blanched. “I did not mean it like that. It’s the situation that pains me, not you.”
“You refuse to answer many questions about the ‘situation.’ But outside of that, what do you wish to happen at the end of our three weeks? If I can’t know what’s driving you, at least tell me your true feelings.”
His face clouded, and he didn’t reply for a while. “I don’t…I don’t want to sway you by speaking too soon.”
She pulled away from him before he could stop her retreat. “You don’t think you’ve already swayed me? That each embrace, kiss, caress doesn’t influence me?”
“Such physical affection is dangerous enough, but words are immeasurably more so.”
Crossing her arms, she shot him an arch look. “Words only play at being meaningful unless they’re backed by actions proving their worth.”
“Maybe for humans, but for fey kind, words of emotion can be binding.”
Her mind churned to fill in the blanks. “So if you confess to feelings you don’t have, you will have a tie to that person forevermore?”
He gave a wry smile as he walked toward her. “No, we can lie just as well as humans and not get caught in that particular trap. Only true words of strong emotion can tie two individuals together.”
“Tie how?” She almost hissed in pleasure as his hands slowly rubbed up and down her arms before moving to her back to repeat their ministrations.
He shrugged. “It all depends on the situation and the people involved. Emotions can and do change, but the only assurance of a tie is that there’ll always be some emotion, good or bad, between the parties. Never just a mediocre or lackluster feeling.”
“Ouch. I suppose a lot of enemies could be found that way.”
He nodded. “It has happened. That is why we chose such words carefully.”
She gently removed his hands from her so she could gain some much-needed perspective. As she paced a trail in front of Lorh, his amused gaze tracked her every movement, burning through her veins. “So if you don’t want to tell me how you feel, your emotions must be strong.”
Natalie sent him an appraising glance, but he merely lifted an eyebrow at her statement. Not subdued that easily, she narrowed her eyes in thought. “You don’t appear to have an intense dislike of me, if your behavior is any indication. So I must deduce you like me, a lot.” She almost smirked in her glee.
He clapped. “Very impressive. You caught me, but did you ever doubt it?”
Thinking back to his actions, she had her answer. “Well, no. However, you could’ve been a really great actor, though I don’t think that’s what you’re aiming for. Anyway, a girl likes to hear the words now and then.”
“Do they now?”
She halted in front of him. “Yes.”
“In that case, I do want you to stay here after your three weeks are up—for me.” He reached out a playful hand and tugged at a lock of hair hanging by her ear.
That was admitting his feelings? “This is all you’re going to say about your feelings for me?”
“You haven’t spoken of your own emotions.”
“But you know exactly what’s going on. I don’t.”
“So the rules are different for you?”
“Yes. You know everything, and I don’t. What harm would it cause if I knew how you felt?”
“Possibly your freedom if you wanted to go back. I cannot send you home if you have a tie to me.”
“And that is for you to determine?”
He gave her a slight bow. “Yes.”
She started pacing again. “The ‘right time this’ and the ‘right time that.’ Everything has a right time, except for me.”
“Even you do.”
That stopped her. “When I’ll know what to decide?”
He dipped his head in agreement.
“But what if I don’t want to stay here after those three weeks and decide to leave? You’re sure I’ll be allowed to go?”
“Yes, though I was hoping you might start to see this place as home.”
Her previous arguments flew out of her head. “I…do think it’s a lovely manor, and I’m positive this is an even lovelier land. Earth is home, though. It’s all I’ve ever known. Even if I stayed here, I know I would miss it.”
“Who said you couldn’t visit Earth, though admittedly the trip isn’t always pleasant.”
She gawked at him. “What?”
“We have kin on your human Earth, holdouts that never wanted to leave. As we do not view one another favorably, we try to not step on each other’s toes. Travel between our two worlds is heavily guarded and not easy. Possible, but not easy. They don’t want human travelers spreading tales of this world or of their presence in yours.”
“Hmm.” That was a reasonable enough explanation.
She knew she shouldn’t give any kind of encouragement or hope, but she had to know all her options, especially if they padded the deal a bit. “Say I stay. Would I be able to return to visit family and friends?”
“Yes, but not with great frequency from our side. From theirs, our trips could appear quite freque
nt.”
Even as her heartbeat rose at this explanation, so did her confusion. “Our trips? Why would the frequency appear different to them?”
“I wouldn’t let you venture off by yourself, even if only to visit family and friends. Travel between our worlds is a difficult matter, and one of fey kind should always be with you.”
“But I came here by myself.”
His mouth thinned. “That was a…special exception.”
“Yeah? How so?”
“I cannot tell you that.”
Pacing again, she crossed her arms in front of her chest and threw him a glower. “You mean you won’t tell me.”
Lorh shrugged. “It amounts to the same thing.”
She flounced away. “Pompous male.”
His strong hands gripped her waist, and his breath shivered along her neck. “What did you say, my dear?” Pulling her flush against his body, every sinew of his body pressed intimately against her back.
Heat built up in her stomach, but she willfully ignored it. “You heard me.” She elbowed him in the side, trying to gain her freedom. His hands remained bands around her.
Huffing in frustration and knowing she needed to put a few inches between them, she threw her hands up. “So what about this frequency you were mentioning?”
Lorh ignored her attitude and drew her over to a sofa, settling her against his side. “Time passes quite differently between our two worlds. We have the ability to travel through a dimensional tear to Earth’s present and past—with stipulations, of course—to a limited extent. I say limited because once a fey visits Earth, a link for that person is established between the two worlds that controls the direction of time.”
As her forehead crinkled in concentration, her body softened against his side. “Is time travel within TirAnn possible?”
“For those born here in TirAnn, it is not. Time is linear here, and we cannot manipulate it. We have hypothesized that this is due to TirAnn being our reality, as Earth is humanity’s domain.”
“This is confusing. So your people can travel forward or backward in my world but not in your own?”
“Yes, but when one of my people visits Earth, a link—the one I mentioned before—is established between our two worlds for that individual. What this means for you is that once we’ve secured permission for travel, which might be restricted to every few decades, you can schedule the timing of our arrival however you like. But once that link is established, we cannot go back in Earth’s time, only forward. However, once we are back on TirAnn, the link becomes inactive, so visits can resume without much lapsed time felt from those on Earth’s side. To the people back there, a matter of months may have only passed since our last visit, while a century could have passed here.”
Her astounded eyes gazed into his. “Okay, where’s the catch? What you’re saying is too good and convenient to be true.”
His lips quirked. “It is true.” His smile slipped. “But there is a price for everything. Think about what I have told you, and how it will apply to those on Earth you visit. Once the timelines of your loved ones’ lives are spent, you cannot revisit those years.” He paused, taking up her hand. Casting his gaze down, he ran his fingers in a soothing circle over her skin. “In other words, once they have died, you cannot go back and recapture those years.” His voice lowered. “We hold no sway over death.”
****
Nara giggled as Natalie gently tugged at her hair. A grin crept over Natalie’s face. This wasn’t so bad after all. Armed with brush and pins, the girl had come to her room, begging her to arrange her hair. Doubtful of her ability, she’d tried to refuse, but the girl wouldn't accept any excuse, real or imagined.
In the week since she'd been here, she often found herself in the company of Lorh's siblings when he had to attend to business. Nara gravitated toward her the most and seemed starved for any attention she could offer. Aiya was more reticent, but still sought her out. She thought of Sirina, and a smile played over her lips. The little girl giggled and squealed whenever she saw Natalie. Even the teenage-acting Aeron sometimes came out of his shell to make conversation.
Coming to a particularly nasty snarl in Nara's tresses, she slowed down, finger-combing the tangled strands. Even though the girl's hair looked silky smooth, the brush still found an amazing amount of tangles.
“How’s your courtship with my brother going?”
Shaken out of her thoughts, Natalie glanced up in surprise. “Um, fine.” She offered no more. For some reason it was strange to talk to Nara about her brother that way. Almost inappropriate. Even though Nara was older, Natalie definitely felt like the adult in the relationship. But that was probably due to the difference in their maturity levels. In spite of all her one hundred and eighty years, Nara's mind and body resembled that of a twelve-year-old human’s.
She watched, entranced, as the brown hair glided between her fingers. The brush strokes slowed. A hazy veil of memory, or maybe of psychosis, settled before her. The image of a woman and a younger Nara rose up before her, a phantom picture. The room, the table…everything was the same. Even she was. Except for the clothes they wore now, Nara's older age, and her own shorter hair, the scene could’ve been a replica of what a person would see right now if peeking into the room.
Her hands trembled, and lightheadedness swam through her head, causing the room to spin. But still she couldn't move or stop staring at Nara's hair. She wanted to close her eyes, to block out the sight. But body and mind failed her. A dreamy voice pierced her consciousness, and she jolted back to awareness.
“I miss my mother. She used to brush my hair just like this.”
As if the brush burned her, Natalie dropped it and stepped back a pace. Adrenaline coursed through her. She wanted to flee; she wanted to melt into the floor.
Nara shifted in the chair to look at her. “M…my lady…Natalie, are you well?”
“No, not really.” Her voice shook. “Maybe we can finish this later?”
“Should I get my brother or a medic?”
“No.” Natalie winced at hearing her own forceful tone. “No. No, thank you.”
Getting up from her seat, Nara glanced at her uncertainly. “I will leave you to rest then, but will check on you later.” She gestured toward a silken rope by the head of the bed. “Ring if you need anything.”
After Nara closed the door, Natalie stumbled to the bed, her legs hitting the wood frame. Pain shot up her shins, but this hardly fazed her. The bruise that was sure to form by tonight seemed trivial in comparison to the turmoil taking over her life.
Natalie let herself fall onto the bed. Her crowded mind protested the movement. Taking a deep breath, she watched the filtered sunlight that danced across the ceiling. It was tangible, real. But the images in her mind… Could they have been real—or, at least, how they could have been real at one time?
Before, Lorh had appeared to be the whole reason why she was here, but now she wasn’t so sure. But what connection could she have to his family? To his siblings? She couldn’t have been here before, surely? No, this incident surely had to be her subconscious’ way of resolving some inner conflict.
Her eyelids become heavy, and she scrubbed her hands over her face. Giving in to sleep might be the best choice. A fresh perspective may put a new spin on the questions roiling around in her head.
But before sleep overtook her, Natalie’s last thoughts were of Lorh’s wife, trying to picture what kind of fey woman she had been. Had she been blonde or dark-haired, like herself? Her mind shied away from this possibility, not wanting any similarities between her and the mysterious fey female.
****
Lorh started to vacate his chair, staring worriedly at the door of his chamber, but Nara pushed him back down. “She doesn’t want to see anyone, even you.”
Sitting on the edge of his seat, he attempted to rise a second time. “But—”
“I think she is remembering.”
He froze, even though he was halfway to standing. Nar
a pressed down on his shoulders, and he collapsed back into the chair. “W…what?”
She huffed, tapping her foot. “I thought this was what you wanted, what we wanted.”
“It is, but…so much rests on her. What if she decides not to stay? How will we cope?” His voice lowered to a whisper. “How will I cope?”
A determined gleam flashed through Nara’s eyes. “She will stay. She has to. How could she not choose us? We’re family.”
“One she has forgotten about.” But even as he uttered this, he knew it wasn’t quite true, not anymore. As Nara said, Natalie was remembering. He’d seen firsthand proof of that by the stream and on many later occasions. When they touched, confusion often clouded her eyes. More than not, she gazed at her surroundings in a kind of trance, a haze of suppressed remembrance pressing in on her.
This was not an easy process for Lorh to watch, but it was an even worse experience for Natalie. She didn’t have the benefit of previous knowledge. For him, though, this knowledge stirred painful memories better left to the dark recesses of his mind.
