Page 30 of Promised to the Nightmare Realm
The nod he offers looks almost like a bow, and butterflies once more swarm inside me until I have to look away or risk embarrassing myself by grabbing his hand. My heart melts when he takes the duffel bag with Lady out of my hands with tenderness.
I’m such a sap.
My feet take me past the unicorn fountain of dark crystal, all the way to the counter, where a handsome elven man is busy polishing frosted glasses in all shades of red.
“Welcome to Unicorn’s Rest. What can I help you with?” he asks, placing the glass on the shelf behind him. He then puts both of his wiry hands on the countertop and leans toward me. A tattoo’s peeking from under his shirt, but it doesn’t move like Tristan’s.
“I’m here with Prince Tristan. He told me to order something to drink.”
My words hang in the air while the elf watches me expectantly, before finally cocking his head. “Have you only just arrived?”
I hate not knowing what I’m doing.
“Yes. I… would like to try the most popular thing, as long as it’s vega—” I stall when the man frowns. “Not made with animal products.”
The bartender drifts off with his gaze to the shelves filled with bottles and vials as if this is some kind of laboratory. “Certainly. I will make the ‘popular thing’, and something special, on the house. You are his ‘promised’ I understand?”
Voice gets stuck in my throat, because what am I supposed to say after I’ve just kissed Tristan in public? I don’t want to be seen as anyone’s side piece.
I shrug, letting the bartender interpret it in any way he wants. “This is such a lovely place. I always loved unicorns. It makes me feel a bit sad for this one,” I say, pointing out the skull.
The bartender grabs a glass and starts expertly making a concoction for me. “Oh, don’t be. He chose this spot as his place of rest, hence the name. The founder of this tavern, Sohan of the Stormy Gates, had a special connection with the beast from a time when the unicorn saved his daughter years prior, so when its time came, it arrived here to take its final breath in Sohan’s lap.”
“That’s… a beautiful legend,” I say softly, but the bartender frowns.
“It’s no legend. My wife is Sohan’s granddaughter.”
Oh, so this is one of those worlds where elves have unnaturally long lives, which means… what, that Tristan, and my ‘promised’ will watch me grow old and die while they remain in their prime?
I shudder just thinking about it but take a sip of the drink which turns out to be light, a bit sweet, but also fruity. The closest comparison I can think of would be raspberry.
“That’s delicious!” I exclaim as someone sits on the stool right next to me. They’re a bit too close for comfort, since many other chairs are vacant, but I’m the stranger here, so I choose to ignore them and focus on my drink.
“I thought he’d choose someone more impressive,” says a voice as smooth and rich as the finest chocolate. I don’t want to engage in whatever this is, but when the bartender pulls away, leaving me alone with the stranger, I shift to the left, to create that bit more personal space, and finally grace my surprise companion with attention.
He’s so stinking gorgeous I can’t bring myself to speak for several seconds, but I did come here with a prince and can’t allow someone to look at me as if I’m a piece of used chewing gum stuck to their foot.
“Do I know you?”
The elf’s skin is a brownish lavender, his hair—black as crow feathers and styled into elaborate plaits, and by the time I see the fine cut of his doublet and the heavy rings adorning his fingers, I feel like a beggar at the feet of my better.
The elf extends his hand to me, and I’m not sure if I should shake it or kiss it. “Amrath. And I will say it myself before you hear word of it, as you definitely will. Yes, I am Tristan’s former lover.”
My jaw drops, and I glance at the bartender, seeking aid, or at least confirmation that this eerily handsome man is someone I should hear out, but the worker’s hiding behind the shelves, and my personal experience in hospitality tells me he’s avoiding my gaze on purpose.
With no help coming, I shift in the chair to face him and nod. What should I say?
Oh, he didn’t mention you?
No, that’s mean girl kind of talk, and I’mnice.
Also, far less of a catch than this guy, especially in my plain jacket and sneakers. Could I not at least still be wearing the cloak? That would have felt like getting to wear your high school boyfriend’s varsity jacket.
“Hi? I’m Nate…”
Amrath frowns a little, the expression strangely exaggerated, as if he’s looking with compassion at a rabbit caught in snares. “I’m sorry if my approach seems abrupt, but he might come back any moment now, and you deserve to know what he surely hasn’t told you.”
I’ve been here before.
