27. Adelbert

Chapter twenty-seven

Adelbert

No one has ever given me a pet name before. The closest thing to a term of endearment I have had is "Bertie" which some of my friends from school call me.

When Florence called me "baby," it felt so natural and so right that I didn't want to draw attention to it. Calling her "Liebling" also just slipped out. It's a fitting nickname for her and one I hope she never asks me about.

After the most erotic, intimate—magical—experience of my life, we put on our clothes and slipped into a familiar quiet that I wished my friends would have understood I craved regularly. Somehow, Florence is able to read these needs of mine—something about the tranquility of her nature soothing some tightness in my innermost being.

While Florence does some embroidery, interpreting the meadow onto her hoop, I lie back on the blanket, contemplating how alive my magic feels out here, and even manage some shut-eye in the shade of the old oak tree—another first for me.

When I wake, the sun is much higher in the sky and partially obscured by some threatening clouds.

"We best be on our way to the house before the heavens open up," I tell Florence, breaking the long, comfortable silence with my strangely formal words. I don't understand why I am like this, but this is new territory for us, and I'm not sure how to navigate it.

Being her usual, sunny-side-up self, Florence smiles affably and nods, already starting to gather her supplies. My magic itches under my skin, and the desire to help her takes over. With my mage hand, I reach for her supplies, gently taking them from her hands and placing them in the basket I brought, while I scratch at my scalp.

Florence stills and watches on, her lips slightly parted as the various items float through the air and settle in the basket.

"You're amazing, you know that?" Florence breathes.

Unable to help myself, my mage hand reaches out and dusts along her jaw, moving up to her temple and rake my hand into her hair. Florence follows the movement and tilts her head, nuzzling into my hand for a second before I run it all the way through her silky hair down to the ends around her lithe waist.

Florence's eyes pop open, and she rights her head.

"It was you, wasn't it?" she says accusingly. Or maybe it's just me reading the accusation in her tone.

I instantly recall my mage hand and lift all three hands up in surrender, ready to apologize for whatever I've done to offend her.

"The other night. On the patio. I thought it was the wind, but it was your magic that touched me, wasn't it?"

My shoulders slump and I stare at her dainty feet while I gather the courage to admit what I did.

I clear my throat and say, "Please accept my most humble apology. I should not have touched you without your consent."

Florence ducks her head to catch my eye. "It's okay. I'm not angry, just surprised is all. I thought it was the wind and it felt so nice to have that touch. But if I'm being completely honest, I kind of wish you would have told me then."

"You do?"

"Well, yeah. It's a pretty big deal, but I understand if you didn't trust me with such a big secret." The sting of my betrayal becomes apparent and I realize I misread the accusation earlier. It was hurt in her voice.

Before I can come up with an adequate excuse, Florence continues, "But that's all water under the bridge now. Onwards and upwards, right?" She beams at me and, in that second, my whole world stands still.

What I thought was the bond driving me to her might actually be my own feelings. Florence sees me and doesn't judge me. Just accepts me with all the numerous flaws in my character. She understands me.

There is still no way things could work between us. While she can provide what I need, I am unable to give her what she needs. My whole future is planned. Arranged. Expected. I have responsibilities.

For her own sake as much as mine, I need to keep my distance. I need to protect her from me .

For a short time, I allowed myself to imagine life with her—laughing, playing, loving. But it is unfair to lead her on when I can't give her what she deserves. I need to step back. Today was as far as it can go.

Resolute in my decision, I wordlessly gather everything and trudge toward the forest. Florence's light footsteps remain a few steps behind me until we're almost at the house.

Stopping in front of the front door, I turn and look at her. I take the opportunity to study Florence's graceful features—the pink on the apples of her cheeks, the glimmer of light in her kind eyes. I memorize the tiny details of her body—like how the hollow at the base of her throat lines up perfectly with the Cupid's bow on her rosy lips, the light smattering of freckles dusting her shoulders that I want to kiss one by one.

The urge to wrap my arms around Florence and not to push her away has my chest cracking open and my heart ripping in two.

Try as I might, I can't shield all the emotions she has awoken in me.

I make sure to look directly into her bright eyes when I say, "Thank you for sharing today with me. It was… amazing. You are amazing." My voice cracks at the end and I have difficulty swallowing around the odd pain in the back of my throat, but I forge on. "Of course, we cannot allow this to happen again. Because the bond might intensify," I add hastily.

Florence sees right through my excuse and her smile turns sad, understanding. She crosses one arm over her torso and holds her elbow.

"It's okay. It was fun. For today only. A good memory."

The sadness in the air is so acute that I don't know if it's her emotions I'm feeling, or my own. Time seems to slow down as Florence's eyes brim with tears and a single one escapes and tracks down her cheek. Unable to resist, I cup her face with my mage hand and wipe the warm drop away.

"You are more exquisite than I could have imagined, Florence Everly. Perfect. Beautiful. So deserving of everything I cannot give you: love, affection, attention, the world. You deserve to have it all, and more."

With a quivering voice, Florence says, "You are a good male, Adelbert. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You're going to make someone very happy one day."

Then she goes into the house, leaving me outside.

I allow myself a couple of shaky breaths before I steel my spine and head to my study, hating myself more with each step I take.

The door shuts behind me with a snick, and I lean against it before sinking to the floor. Resting my head against the door, I stare up at the ceiling and let all my thoughts run through my mind so I can properly process what happened today.

I can't allow myself to form any kind of attachment to Florence. I need to remain firm on this. Despite how perfect she was this afternoon, it can't happen again. If my desire for her increases only marginally or if the bond strengthens, she could get stuck here.

What would that mean for the future of Alberad? What would that mean for me?

I'll make sure Florence is comfortable, taken care of. I'll be kind and considerate, as much as is expected from a host to a guest.

We'll travel to the opening of her sister's store and maybe the bond will have broken before Florence even has to return. It will simplify everything.

I take a fortifying breath and stand up, bracing myself to run through all the exercises I want to demonstrate at my presentation. For some unknown reason, my magic feels weaker tonight. It could be because I exerted too much energy with Florence, but I didn't feel tired then. My magic didn't even feel strained.

I will keep practicing and practicing until I have perfected everything and prove that what was thought to be dormant magic in elves, has once again been awakened.