15. Kathleen

Sitting across from the formidable figure of Captain Hayes, I can feel my hands twisting nervously in my lap beneath the elegant tablecloth. The air is heavy with tension, and even the crackling fire seems to flicker uneasily. The slaves scurry about, laying out each course with precision and grace.

The first course arrives, a display of small, intricate bites that I struggle to comprehend as food. They are arranged on delicate china plates, each one a work of art in itself. As I fumble with the unfamiliar utensils, I can"t help but feel out of place at this lavish dining table. But then again, everything about this encounter with Captain Hayes feels foreign and unsettling.

My heart pounds against my chest like a hammer, its rhythmic thuds threatening to break through my ribcage. Anxiety courses through my veins, making me feel lightheaded and dizzy. What if he doesn"t like me? His deep-set eyes bore into mine, their intense scrutiny sending shivers down my spine. My palms grow clammy with sweat as I struggle to maintain composure.

I frantically search my mind for any shred of etiquette training I may have received in the past, but my thoughts are jumbled and chaotic. I can"t remember where to place my napkin or how to properly hold a utensil. Panic sets in as I realize how ill-prepared I am for this sophisticated meeting.

I desperately search for something to say that will convince him of my worth. But as I open my mouth, no words come out. Fear grips me like a vice, rendering me helpless. This is the most terrified I"ve ever been in my life.

But I have to try. Summoning all my courage, I stammer out, "It"s an honor to meet you, sir." The words rush out too quickly, too forced in their delivery.

Hayes merely arches an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. Then, in a moment of nervous fidgeting, I accidentally knock over my wine goblet. The deep red liquid spills out, flowing like a small river onto the pristine white floor. Hayes makes a dismissive snort and my cheeks burn hot with humiliation. I quickly right the glass, avoiding his piercing gaze. As I quickly right the glass, trying to clean up my clumsy mistake, I can only pray that I haven"t completely ruined our meeting with my awkwardness.

A trio of maids, their skirts swishing as they hurry, scurry to clean up the wine I spilled. My cheeks flush with embarrassment as I watch them work. Captain Hayes stares at me, his gaze sharp and scrutinizing. I can feel it burning into my skin and I keep my eyes downcast, unable to meet his intense gaze. After what feels like an eternity, he finally sighs and his stern expression softens into a small smile. He turns to Draknir, his eyes conveying some unspoken message that I cannot quite decipher.

An entire conversation, filled with unspoken words and subtle gestures, passes between Hayes and Draknir. I try to read their expressions, but they reveal nothing to me. Anxious, I shift my gaze between them, wondering what is being exchanged in their silent communication.

Finally, Hayes gives Draknir a barely perceptible nod, which is returned with equal understatement. Something unspoken has been agreed upon between them. My heart races with desperate hope that it bodes well for our future.

As they exchange cryptic looks, I can see the deep bond between soldier and mentor. And yet, I am still an outsider in many ways. I fidget with my napkin, praying that I have not jeopardized our chances and waiting nervously for their verdict on me.

As we sit in silence, the captain suddenly breaks it with his sharp voice, drilling me about how Draknir and I came to be together. "Tell me, child," he demands, leaning in closer, "what was it that first drew you to Draknir?" His intense gaze never wavers as he awaits my response.

I scramble for believable stories of love at first sight, recalling our first encounter in the woods and exaggerating the details to highlight Draknir"s bravery and charm. Desperately trying to sound infatuated, I regale him with tales of noble rescues and handsome appearances. "Yes," I declare dramatically, "it was an immediate connection!" Hoping my performance is convincing enough, I study the old man"s face for any signs of doubt or suspicion.

But Hayes continues digging deeper, testing the authenticity of my infatuation with this man I barely know.

"And what do you find most appealing about Draknir"s character?" he prods.

"I-I... He"s a great man, the best man I"ve ever met."

Again with that derisive snort.

If I fail then Grandma"s doomed.

Captain Hayes continues his intense questioning over the multiple dinner courses. "Come now, all couples have their quarrels," he remarks. "Surely you have clashed over some matter?"

I strain my mind, searching for the perfect response. With exaggerated affection, I reply, "Darling, we have never had a single disagreement! It must be true love indeed."

Beneath the table, Draknir gives my hand a pointed squeeze and interjects, "Ah, but there was that small difference of opinion regarding the wedding decorations. You were quite insistent on those garish ornamental doves if I remember correctly." He raises an eyebrow suggestively in my direction. His rich baritone voice fills the air like honey, smooth and alluring.

"Oh yes, of course!" I reply quickly. We share a loving smile that feels terribly forced.

Hayes watches this exchange skeptically. I prattle on about how quickly we resolved the fictional spat, hoping to convince him of our supposed domestic bliss.

Just then, the captain turns to Draknir with a dubious look and raises a skeptical eyebrow. "Doves for wedding decor? That seems rather sentimental for a hardened military man like yourself."

I freeze nervously, realizing our fictional disagreement revealed more about my girlish romantic notions than Draknir"s tastes.

But Draknir smiles calmly. "What can I say, Captain? Love changes a man. I"m happy to indulge my dear Kathleen"s wishes on our special day."

He takes my hand affectionately and I blush as if thrilled by his willingness to compromise.

Captain Hayes still appears unconvinced but doesn"t push the matter further. We steer the conversation to safer waters and I breathe a quiet sigh of relief.

This subterfuge is more exhausting than I anticipated. But we have survived Hayes" interrogation thus far. Perhaps our act is working. I take a fortifying sip of wine. The night is still young...

As the evening winds down, Captain Hayes fixes us with a serious look. "You two managed well enough tonight. But this deception will take considerable work."

My hand trembles as I clasp onto Draknir"s tightly beneath the wooden table. My heart races as we wait for the captain"s verdict on our performance.

"Your stories are passable but lack natural chemistry," the captain says bluntly, his voice cutting through the tension like a sword. "Your gestures of affection feel staged, forced. If you wish to truly convince others of your love, the connection must be visceral, undeniable."

Draknir nods thoughtfully, his brow furrowing in deep contemplation. "We shall keep practicing until we find that authenticity," he vows, determination shining in his eyes. "Thank you for the candid critique, my dear friend."

Captain Hayes sighs. "See that you do. This will be difficult to pull off. But you must make your tale irrefutable."

He levels us with an intense stare. "No one observing you together should have any doubt that your bond is true and unbreakable."

Just when I am feeling despair over the immense challenge ahead, Captain Hayes" expression softens.

"Yet it may not be entirely without hope," he adds gently. "I sense genuine affection beginning to bloom between you two."

My face goes flush at his words and my heart flutters unexpectedly. Could he discern some real feeling amidst our act?

"Focus on what drew you together, that spark of something more," Hayes advises wisely. "Fan that fledgling flame into a burning fire that cannot be denied."

I sneak a glance at Draknir and find him looking at me thoughtfully. I desperately cling to this small glimmer of hope as we make our way through the nerve-wracking dinner.

Every moment feels like walking on a tightrope, trying to maintain a facade of fondness that could potentially blossom into something real.

It"s an impossible feat, but I hold onto it with all my might. As we finally leave the captain"s presence, I feel a sense of doom settling in. But then Draknir surprises me by turning to me with a wide, genuine grin. "I don"t think I"ve ever seen the captain so pleased and overjoyed," he remarks, his eyes sparkling with mischief and excitement. Despite my doubts, a spark of hope ignites within me once again.

I give Draknir a bewildered look. "Pleased and overjoyed? He barely said three words all dinner!"

Draknir chuckles. "Come now, you must have noticed how chatty and talkative he was. Why, I"ve never heard the man prattle on so!"

I stare at Draknir blankly, certain he and I attended different dinners. The captain I encountered was terse and skeptical from start to finish.

"Chatty? He asked about three questions in total and glared at us the rest of the time!" I exclaim.

Draknir just laughs and nudges me playfully. "You have much to learn about Elven culture. And your memory must be fading, my dear. No matter - let us celebrate that rousing success with more wine!"

He steers me enthusiastically toward the wine cellar as I shake my head, but can"t help giggling too. I know Draknir is just joking to lighten the tension. And I"m happy to play along if it means recapturing some levity after that ordeal.