Ashara took more care than she usually did with dressing that evening. I’m going to see George! She smoothed down her

She dressed in a dark sky blue backless dress with a skirt with small pleats. The bodice of the dress was gathered into the front half of the waist, covering her breasts except for the deep, just v that stopped a few inches below her breasts. The whole dress was covered in silver embroidery, the vines and leaves working their way up and down her figure. Ashara left her hair down, putting a silver and pearl, diamond studded diadem with small crystal flowers dripping down small glittering ropes amongst her curls.

Eolande smoothed her dress, a pale lilac, high necked gown, made from silk. It had long skirts and royal purple embroidery. She checked one last time on Ashara’s slippers, a pair of matching blue shoes with dainty flowers embroidered in silver. Eolande smiled.

“After dinner I’ll help you change and then we can meet George.” Her words were meant to be reassuring, but they only made Ashara’s gut clench with nerves. I only have to survive dinner… I can do that, right? Ashara was able to take a few deep breaths before a knock came at her door.

Eolande opened it. Ashara smiled softly at her cousin, taking his hand. Both Eolande and a pair of guards fell into step behind her and Dandelion when she stepped into the gleaming, candle lit corridor.

“You look beautiful, My lady.” Dandelion pressed a kiss to the back of her trembling hand. His green eyes glowed in the candlelight. The green embroidery on his saffron waistcoat sparkled as they walked, arm in arm, down the corridor. They were silent as they walked down the stairs and through the maze of hallways of the palace.

The ornate cream and gold doors of the royal families private dining hall loomed ahead of them. Ashara wiped her damp palm on the skirt of her sky blue dress. Silver embroidery curved and danced in vine and leaf scratching it. As the moon breathed in through the windows it caught on the silver threads in, making them gleam.

The guards at either side of the door saluted as Dandelion and Ashara drew near. Ashara took a breath, biting her rosebud lips as they pulled the heavy doors open. Just an hour, then I can leave. He’ll understand. She let out a shaky breath and pulled another in, not that it helped much. Appraising the table made her stomach turn. Just an hour… I can make it.

Ashara looked back at Eolande. The she elf smiled at her, pointing to her lips. Ashara smiled, hoping it didn’t look forced.

Ashara entered the informal dining hall, where the king and queen waited, already sitting. Dandelion tugged her forwards, his arm still holding hers captive. They took their seats, aside one another, and waited for the servants to serve them. Eolande sat to her left, and Dandelion to her right.

Dinner seemed to drag on forever. Ashara played with the food on her plate. Tatiana’s eyes met hers over the rim of her wine glass. The green sparkling like emerald.

“Ashara. I trust you have been thinking of names.” The queen said, smiling.

“Names, your majesty?” Ashara tilted her head, pursing her lips. She felt tingles dance along her legs and arms.

“Yes. For your children.” Tatiana tilted her head slightly, a daring smile stretching her soft, berry red lips. I don’t want any children; At least not with Dandelion. Maybe not ever. Though I know such a feat is impossible. Sooner or later I’ll have to have his children, for duty.

Ashara fought to swallow the lump of food. It turned to ashes in her mouth. Setting down her fork, she wiped her mouth before replying.

“I confess I haven’t. Dandelion and I have yet to be married. I see no rush.” Dandelion was quick to agree.

“Yes mother. Are you truly so eager for grandchildren? I had thought it better for Ashara to visit the castle healer for tonics and a thorough examination before we begin working towards an heir.” Ashara stilled, feeling the blood leave her face. I knew this conversation had to be approached sooner rather than later, but they speak as if I’m not here. As though I’m a broodmare.

A buzzing noise filled Ashara’s ears and she stood, abruptly, nearly knocking the chair over. Dizzyness swam over her, making her sway.

Eolande stood, reaching for her. She mouthed something she couldn’t hear to her aunt and uncle, taking her by the arm and leading her out of the hall. I need to see him. Ashara didn’t hear a word Eolande spoke as they walked back to her room, arm in arm. When they came to a stop at her door, Eolande opened it, leading her inside. She let go, giving Ashara a smile.

Ashara waited for buzzing and nausea to clear. The heat and light from the roaring fire helped her feel more like herself. I want to see him. Eolande was quick to undo the back of Ashara’s dress and her corset. The only thing that remained was her chimese, which she kept on. The she elf went to grab Ashara’s riding clothes, helping her into them.

Together, they crawled down balcony, and dissapeared into the forest, like shadows in the night.

The human world was noisy, full of iron and sickness. Ashara listened to the humans going in and out. They paid her no mind; They did not see her. It had been a week since she'd last seen her human. She didn't know how long it had been for him. It was a risk she was willing to take.

She tried to ignore the sting and the pain. It was worth it, If only to see him. My dearest friend. My sweet companion. When I tell him, though he can do nothing; Having him listen is a comfort to my spirit.

Ashara looked over at Eolande. The dark haired elf was handling this better than the previoius few times she’d come alone.

Several patrons came and went through the pub doors, each one slurring and carrying the stench of too much spirit. Eolande crossed her arms, scowling. Ashara looked at the humans through the window. Most of them were men, laughing and red faced. The few women that were there seemed friendly enough. They smiled and blushed as they spoke with their male patrons.

Ashara looked up. The sky was light orange, with lavender smeared haphazardly across. My mortal is late. What keeps him away? Maybe he isn’t coming after all. Eolande tugged her arm, pointing into the darkness.

Ashara looked again at the sky. The orange was a faded, slender ribbon, the lavender had streaked into shades of blue and purple. Small stars dotted the sky overhead. Ashara's heart thundered in her chest. Maybe was quickly becoming a certainty. She breathed deeply, letting the old iron set her lungs and throat on fire like spiced honey cakes.

The shadows grew and lengthened. Purple and blue consumed the thin orange ribbon of light. A few stragglers wandered into the bar. He isn’t coming. He's forgotten. A fast moving, wraith-like figure tore the shadows asunder and burst into the candlelight of the tavern, breathing heavy and sweating.

His nostrils flared and snorted from above full and soft lips, High cheekbones showing as his breath moved rapidly in and out. George’s long brows furrowed as he worked to regain his breath, dark brown hair tumbling into his equally dark and expressive eyes.

George.