Page 77 of Promised to the Nightmare Realm
The card is small. simple, and yet—
Tristan offers me a tight smile, his shoulders hunched as he shifts in his chair. Right now, he doesn’t feel like the experienced knight who’d taken many lovers in the past but a young guy inviting his crush to the prom. All jock with none of the toxic masculinity.
It’s really sweet.
And for a breathless moment before my superego chastises me for my emotions, I want to agree. But just as I allow the moonlight into my heart, the gloom sinks back in, because there are so many reasons to refuse.
First of all, I asked him not to court me. Which he maybe isn’t? He knows I find this realm fascinating, and despite the romantictheme of the ball, maybe he wants to give me a glimpse of his culture?
In any case, I’ve only just left my hermitage for the first time in weeks. I am wary of all strangers and keep having episodes of panic. How could I possibly attend an official event at this fantastical court? What if something triggers me into sobs? What if I freeze? What if the guests ask me uncomfortable questions or, worse yet, quip about my shadow and how it’s paler than that of any other human they’ve met?
My breath comes out with a shudder, and Tristan leans in, golden eyes wide, blood-red locks cascading down his shoulder while he watches me as if one word out of my mouth could make or ruin his life.
Which isn’t the case.
He might be infatuated with me, but I’m just a regular guy. And my shadow… which seems to be such a big factor in the attractiveness of a human is very clearly lacking. As much as I hate it, maybe I should protect myself rather than follow my undeniable attraction to him? Because what if I fall for him, and then, years down the line he admits pursuing me had been a mistake all along, like my first boyfriend had after his religious reawakening?
I can’t take any of that bullshit again.
But Tristan’s watching me with so much hope that I can’t throw any of that in his face. Whatever might happen in a theoretical future, right now, his intentions seem pure.
“I don’t think I’m ready for a party like that.”
I hate how light dies in his eyes. Even if I was staying, he deserves someone less broken than me.
“I understand. I am obligated to go, but I will leave the open invitation with you.So. Pizza.” His smile, while wide, looks a bit fake. “The one at the ball is supposed to have human cow’s milk—I mean, humanrealmcow’s cheese, but this one is all plant.The cooks have devised this gooey algae instead for us, and the crunchy, salty strips instead of bacon are a type of mushroom. But the base is all real tomato.”
Were I earlier into my journey back to normalcy, I would have cried. My will and my morals have been crushed, but Tristan keeps supporting me in my choices, even though he doesn’t quite understand them.
I am about to reach for his hand and stop myself at the last moment. No mixed signals. He deserves someone utterly committed.
“It smells amazing. And this place…” I say, gesturing at the orangery. “Magical. Thank you for making this so special for me.”
“You deserve it. Especially after the weeks up in the Mausoleum. I need to make sure it’s worth stepping outside for.” He winks at me, acting all fine, but I know I’ve disappointed him.
The best I can do now is enjoy this day with him, so we settle into chatting over pizza. Just yesterday, I wondered when I’d get to see him again, yet now there’s nothing more natural than joking around with him and sharing stories.
He tells me more about his kelpie, how they won a race in the sea during a storm, how tall the waves were. From that, we casually move on to me telling him about rollercoasters, and his eyes go wide with excitement.
So, of course, I promise to take him out to a theme park in the vague future, because I would like to do something special for him too. For the pizza. And clearing out the palace for me. And for saving me twice.
No matter what happens, I feel we’ll always share a bond of some kind.
I tell him about helping my grandparents take care of the farm. About warm summer afternoons at the shore of a nearbylake. About realizing how much I like looking at boys when they splash around in the water.
He shares how he didn’t know he was also attracted to men until a bit later when he met a tailor’s assistant while visiting another court far away with his father. He was more often surrounded by men he competed with, whereas this elf was sweet and pliant.
Even though it was years ago, I still get a little jealous of the easy thing they shared. It’s a reminder of the fun tumble in my bed on Halloween. Just two people excited for each other, without any of the worries that now occupy my heart.
The pizza is actually good, and unlike most vegan cheeses, this one forms gooey strings, which I enjoy more than I thought I would. The ingredients are very well-seasoned, the base is crisp, and by the time our plates are empty, I feel nourished—both in body and soul.
Am I being silly?
Hopelessly romantic?
Maybe my grandfather was right when he joked that I read too many books.
There’s not a moment of uncomfortable silence, and while Tristan is charming, it doesn’t feel fake, as if he’s pandering to me, or treating me like a porcelain doll about to break.
