A Fey for Valentines Day

A Fool's Choice

"Two-hundred and twenty-five," I repeat, still trying to wrap my head around such an outrageous age. "You're telling me that you and Alaric are two-hundred and twenty-five years old."

"Give or take," Kael says with a smile. 'Time moves differently in each realm."

I clear my throat and forced myself to close my open mouth, stumbling over what to say to that.

"You ah," I stutter, "that is — you look good for your age."

He laughs again — that genuine, surprised sound that transforms his face. "Was that a compliment, Sophia from the land of no magic?"

I blush. "Just an observation. I'm full of them tonight."

"So I've noticed."

The music draws to a close. Other couples around us separating, bowing and curtsying to each other before drifting toward the edges of the dance floor. Our time is up.

I should find Alaric. I should do the safe, sensible thing. But I don't move. Neither does Kael.

"You know telling him might help," I say quietly, picking up the thread of our earlier conversation. "Talk to him, Kael. Tell Alaric how you really feel."

"It won't change anything."

"Maybe not. But it might make you both feel less alone."

He goes still then. Completely, utterly still, it's obvious I've struck a nerve.

"And who says I'm not happy alone?" he asks finally. There's a bite in it.

"I know what it's like to be lonely." I hold his gaze, letting him see the truth underneath my own mask. "I know what it's like to feel like you're on the outside of everything, watching other people live the lives you were supposed to have. I know what it's like to wonder if there's something fundamentally wrong with you. Something broken. Something that makes you..."

I trail off, but the word hangs between us. Unlovable.

"...broken." I say instead.

The ballroom is in motion around us, yet in this moment it's just us, only Kael's beautifully cold eyes holding mine. Only the cool press of his fingers wrapped around mine. Only two people realizing they have so much more in common than they could have ever imagined.

"You're not broken," he says roughly. His voice cracking on the words.

"Neither are you."

The clock chimes somewhere above us — a single, resonant note that reverberates through my teeth. A reminder of the urgency of our situation. A reminder that time is passing quickly. Midnight drawing nearer.

I step back a half step — or try to, but Kael doesn't release me. The dance is over. Instead, he pulls me back to him, wrapping his free arm around my waist, holding me tight against him as something flickers in his expression- vulnerability.

"One more dance," he says.

It's not a command. Not a challenge. It's a tentative request, from a man who has clearly never learned how to ask softly for the things that he wants.

"I should..."

"Just one more," his lips curve, just slightly. "I'm enjoying your company, Sophia. It's been a long time since I could say that about anyone."

Alaric is probably watching from somewhere across the ballroom, his amber eyes tracking our every move. I should say no. The smart thing would be to thank Kael for the dance and walk away. But there's something in his voice. Something raw and real beneath the carefully constructed walls that surround him.

I think about how he laughed when I rambled on about elves and mages. How his eyes softened when I touched his face. How he looked at me like I was the first person in two centuries to see him as a person, not as a monster.

I swallow hard, then agree with a small nod. "One more dance."

A sort of relief flashes across his features before he can hide it fully. He spins me around as the new melody begins — slower, more intimate than the last one — and we start to dance again.

"You're a unique woman," he murmurs against my hair.

"I've been called worse."

"I meant it as a compliment."

"Then thank you." I tilt my head back to look at him. "You're unique too, for what it's worth. Not at all what I expected."

"Is that so? And what did you expect exactly?"

"More biting," I tease. "More evil villain monologue's about how darkness will consume us all."

His chest rumbles with quiet laughter. "The night is young."

"Oh? Is that a threat?" I can't help but smile as I say it.

"Merely a truth." But his eyes are warm — warmer than I would have thought possible when he'd first emerged from the shadows. The shadow cape still clings to him, but even it seems lighter, warmer even. "You should be more careful, you know. Most people have the sense to at least be afraid of me."

"Most people are sheep. And most people haven't seen you laugh at being compared to an elf."

"No, in fact, most people wouldn't have dared to make that comparison directly to my face."

I leaned into him then, lips brushing his jawline. "Then it's a good thing I'm not most people."

I hear his breath catch, watch his eyes darken as I draw back again. Grinning with satisfaction. I don't know what's possessed me all of a sudden, but I find that I enjoy getting this reaction from him.

We dance in comfortable silence for a while, the tension between us shifting into something else entirely. I'm away of every point where our bodies make contact — his hand on my waist, my fingers resting on his shoulder, the cool press of his palm against mine — it no longer feels dangerous. It feels...right, somehow.

"Sophia," he finally says, breaking the silence. His voice thoughtful. "Why did you touch the water?"

The question throws me slightly, catching me off guard. "I don't know, honestly."

"The fountain calls to many. But they still have to answer, even when chosen." His eyes search my face. "What were you looking for?"

I consider lying. Consider deflecting with humor like I always do when I'm uncomfortable. But something about the way he asks the question, about this night altogether, makes me want to tell him the truth.

"Connection, I suppose," I admit. "I was lonely. Walking through Central Park, watching all those couples, well, it made it worse. I've been lonely for a long time, I just don't say it out loud. If I do, it makes it too real, too painful. And when I saw the fountain, I thought..." I shake my head. "I don't know what I thought. I just felt it... drawing me in... seeing me when no one else did."

Kael's hand lifts from my waist. For a moment, I think he is going to pull away — but instead, his fingers brush my cheek, cupping my jaw, tilting my face up toward his. His touch is cool but achingly gentle.

"I see you," he says quietly. "For whatever that's worth."

My breath catches. "Kael..."

Something flares in his eyes as my own vulnerability suddenly surfaces, and he stiffens, drawing his hand away quickly. "Sophia, you should go back to my brother. He's the safe choice. The good choice. He won't get you hurt."

He tries to step back then and I cling to him, refusing to give in just yet. "And if I don't want safe?"

"Then you're a fool."

"I've been called worse." I say, holding my ground.

"Sophia..." He breathes my name, warning and worship all in one. "I'm not the hero of this story. I'm not even sure I'm the villain anymore. Either way, I'm tired of playing a role I never asked for."

"Then stop playing it."

"It's not that simple."

"According to you nothing is ever simple, Kael."

He opens his mouth to protest further, but before he can speak, the air shifts. Warms. Brightens. A familiar golden glow cutting through the shadows around us, and I know without looking that Alaric has finally lost his patience.

"Time's up, brother." Alaric's voice is careful, controlled, but commanding all at once. There's steel beneath the silk of it. "You've had more than your share of Sophia's time this evening."

Kael's jaw tightens. A flash of rebellion in his eyes as he glares at Alaric. The urge to fight him rising. Then a shift happens, and I watch as the walls rebuild themselves before my eyes, brick by brick. The icy cold returning in full force.

"So I have," he says smoothly, releasing me with a bow that is more performance than courtesy. Stepping back and breaking all contact between us. "Thank you for the dances, Sophia. It was...intoxicating."

He takes another step back, and the shadows reach for him, wrapping around him once more as he turns on his heel and walks away. But just before he disappears into the darkness at the edge of the ballroom, he pauses, glancing back at me over his shoulder. His eyes finding mine one last time.

And then he's gone.