Claimed By The Elven King: Part Three - Plot & Excerpts
I asked as we sat side-by-side, not on a marble bench as I had originally intended, but on the slightly-damp grass just a couple of steps from the edge of the pond. Upon reaching the pond, when I had tried to sit down on the bench, Sethian had squeezed my hand sharply, shaking his head when I had looked back at him quizzically. He had made a face at the ornately-carved bench and had suggested that sitting in the grass before the pond would be much more comfortable. So far I had kept the conversation on safe subjects, mostly on his everyday duties as king as well as everything he had been doing for the past month. He even seemed to enjoy talking about them, never once giving me the impression that my barrage of questions was becoming tiresome. Although his answers helped me understand more about his standing in the elven realm, it told me very little of the man, himself. We had been talking for at least an elven mark—equivalent to around an hour and a half according to Saeria—and I still hadn’t figured out how to ask him the questions I really needed the answers to.
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