I felt a chill as she spoke. “I was wrong. And I regret supporting her. I know that doesn’t excuse-”
“You don’t have to apologize to me,” she shrugged. The elf remained cool despite the nature of the conversation and my own nervous demeanor. “Truly. I noticed the look on your face when you came in. You think my ears are disgusting.” She laughed. Why was she laughing? “Very well. That’s fine. But I know you’re not looking to support genocide.”
I felt terribly confused. So, she wasn’t upset? Then what was the point of bringing it up?
“Kalian,” Serriah twirled a fork around on her plate as she spoke with acute precision, and I was surprisingly mesmerized by the action, “I just wish to point out that when the time comes for you to resume your place in the army, I hope you’ll keep that in mind. Your actions will last. Just like those council members, everything you stand for matters.”
I felt defensive and wanted to find a point to argue with her on, but I knew there was no benefit to that. She was right. I hadn’t had to face my mistakes in a serious manner. I’d been protected from consequences by Minerva and my position. Perhaps I deserved this time of banishment to atone for that. Besides, I couldn’t help but take comfort in the way she worded her advice; she seemed so confident that I would regain my place in the army.
“Thank you,” I nodded.
She smiled, clearly a bit surprised that I’d been so receptive. “I’m eighty-four.”
“Oh,” I blinked. She did look young for her age.
“Don’t be so shocked,” she laughed. Her laugh was deep and full-bellied. It was the only thing I’d noticed so far that seemed to betray her age. There was wisdom in it, a knowledge that things could be laughed off and temporary. I got the frustrating feeling that despite my being several hundred thousand years old, this elf I’d looked down on had more sense than I did.
“You just look much younger.”
“Well,” the youthful woman shrugged. “We don’t age after about thirty.”
Right. It was easy to forget since their lifespans were more similar to humans, but the two species couldn’t be more different.
“So… about the fae realm… People are getting worried, yes?”
“Very.” She got up and crossed back to the cart, pouring herself a cup of coffee out of a golden carafe. I looked closer at what she was pouring it into and realized she had a very squatty looking mug that was clearly from Earth that read ‘Have some ELF Confidence!’ with two comically large ears illustrated on either side of the text. She seemed to be such a buttoned-up person, but there was much whimsy that had been betrayed in the last few moments. “The fae are scared. The oldest Unseelie in the world is reduced to ash, and then an agent of Death starts telling people she’s in charge? I can understand where their fears come from.” She chuckled. “I’m doing my best.”
“What are you meeting with the Kings about?”
“Just to give them a status report. They were supposed to be here a bit ago, but apparently, they got called off last minute.”
I frowned, wondering if everything was alright. My mind immediately went to Myrcedes. “I hope I’m not intruding.”
She shrugged. “Not at all. Don’t get much company in the fae world right now, anyway.”
“Don’t reapers like alone time?”
She looked at me and cocked her head. “Depends on the reaper. But even liking alone time is different from isolation.”
“Oh,” I felt my cheeks get hot, feeling rude. “I’m sorry-”
She waved me off and shrugged, leaning against the table. “No need. You didn’t know. Just the state of things.” She took a drink from her strange little coffee mug and sighed. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been in the fae world for more than a visit. If I’m honest, I’d hoped there would have been more change.”
“What do you mean?”
“People are the same.” Serriah shook her head. I tried not to stare at her ears as they moved back and forth with the gesture. A wave of realization hit me at that moment that I was most likely part of whatever problem she was referring to. “Seelie and Unseelie are considered beautiful, perfect, adored. Brownies, elves, any other kind of fae are mistrusted. But at least we’re still fae. The way some of those creatures talk about non-fae…”
An alarm bell sounded in my head. “Bahz.”
Her eyebrow cocked up in a serious manner.
“What’s going on with Bahz?” I questioned.
She set down her mug. “Your Lieutenant… he’s taken your title. I suppose you must have expected that. He’s also been very vocal about his distrust for me. His political opinions are a hot topic for gossip these days.”
I nodded. “I heard about what happened at Pukk’s bar…”
She raised an eyebrow but then relaxed and nodded. “Yeah. It wasn’t pleasant. I’ve dealt with worse. I didn’t have to get my scythe out.” She laughed. “But he does seem to be… a problem. He’s been agitating things. People that weren’t upset before are growing more and more worried, all at his prodding. I’m doing my best to keep an eye on him, but he’s succeeded at making that difficult.”
“How has he -”
I was interrupted by the doorknob rattling suddenly. The door swung open, and there stood Daath and Syrion, the two of them barely visible within the door frame. I couldn’t help but think they were so dramatic in every aspect, even their dress shirts. Daath wore black, and Syrion wore white, just like their hair… as if they were so committed to this monochromatic nonsense. Actually, every article of clothing, down to their shoes and cartoonish capes, matched their hair. If I wasn’t slightly terrified of them, I might have rolled my eyes. I pictured
