"You already look...surprisingly different from when we left you here," Dathid says when he picks me up for dinner.

"In a good way or a bad way?"

"If it was a bad way I wouldn't say anything."

I smile. Dathid thinks I look good. "You look different, too," I say. "Your hair is longer and you seem more relaxed."

He runs a hand over his dark hair and it sticks up for a second before flopping to the side. "Yeah, I might be. I'm pretty sure there's no longer a kill order hanging over my head. Now they're just rude."

I wince. I'm sorry I brought it up.

"Jonah's tied up with the council so it's just us for dinner. Do you have anywhere you would like to go?"

"I've only ever been to the place you and Jonah took me."

He takes a deep breath. "I hate elf food." He looks at me as if he just confessed something profound. When he doesn't get the reaction he was expecting he continues, "Would you mind if we went to this pub that caters to the hemots and the eurynomon? It's loud, but the food's good."

I don't know what an eurynomon is, but I think I like hemot food because I've been eating Trelix's cooking for a while now and it's good, so I agree.

We're early for dinner so the tiny pub is practically empty. Dathid pulls a table to the corner by the window.

"You scared me with your description, but so far it's nice," I say after we sit. "I like how bright it is. And that yellow paneling is so cheery. What's this place called?"

"Foervaldi," he says and then laughs. "I was about to translate it for you, but the first part is dirt. The second doesn't translate, but the closest I could get was floor."

"Well, it sounded pretty. You should've just lied."

"How about flowers? Dirt flowers?"

I shake my head as we run out of conversation.

"Do you know what you would like?" he asks, ending the silence.

Jonah usually orders for me because he knows about human foods and the stuff I enjoy. I wish someone over here would invent the menu. Dathid is an entirely different species. What if he orders insects or something grosser than that?

He smiles at me. "You look like you're going to be ill."

"Sorry. I don't know what to order."

"You seem to enjoy birds. And green leaves."

"Well, it sounds really disgusting when you put it like that."

He laughs. "Can I try to order you something? I think I can get it right."

"Sure. Birds in leaves. Yum."

He yells at the elf behind the counter and she brings our drinks. Mine is some kind of fruity water.

"So far, not disgusting," I say after I take a sip.

"That's always my goal. Not disgusting."

It's surprising he's been so chatty and friendly up to this point, but now he's run out of steam. He has a laser focus when he's on a mission, and right now the mission is talking me into staying. It's quite a task considering he's a naturally quiet guy.

We fall into our inevitable silence, so the conversation flow is left to me. Hard to believe I'm the outgoing one. "So Step One of changing my mind was empathy. What's Step Two?"

He leans back in his chair. "I haven't gotten that far yet. But I was considering blatant begging."

He smiles at me and I can't help but smile back.

He leans forward and puts his elbows on the table. "My family had several long discussions about letting you stay in Manahata. We want you to know that you are always welcome. But..."

My heart soars when he says I'm welcome. Then the but makes it drop to the floor with a painful bounce. I don't want to stay in Cromsmead, but I don't know what my options are.

"...faeries are radically different from humans," Dathid continues. I should pay more attention to what he is saying because I think I missed something important. "Humans and elves are similar socially, economically, physically. It's just unsafe being wingless in Manahata. Plus, the council believes you'd be more secure behind a wall, like they have here. We defend ourselves by scattering into the trees. You not being able to fly could be dangerous."

I wish he wouldn't have said anything. I'd love living with the faeries. Plus I could see the towers of the Manhattan skyline through the veil. I miss New York. It would almost be like being home.

"Are you going to cry?" he asks.

"No. Although now I wish I could, just to watch you freak out."

"Yeah. I don't handle tears well. Good thing Jonah's always around."

Our food arrives and Dathid did well. I do like birds, and this one is particularly good.

When I'm halfway through my salad I look at him and ask something I've been dying to know but have been afraid to ask about. "Can you explain your titles?"

He doesn't stop shoveling food into his mouth to speak. "Faeries don't have titles."

My mouth is empty so I take a big bite of bird leg. Some of the meat is hanging out of my mouth when I ask, "Isn't your dad a king?"

Dathid chuckles, wipes his mouth, and takes a sip of his drink before he properly addresses me. "My father is the negotiator to the elves. They will only deal with a person equal in rank so he's King. He's also a military leader of sorts, I guess. But that's it for titled faeries."

I squish up my nose and brows in a comical mad face. "You're being evasive on purpose."

He mimics the face back. "Okay. Well, the title of King among the elves is even less important than it is to the faeries. It's a position given to the spouse of the ruler. It was designed so any foreign dignitary could fill it and not hurt the kingdom. Although King Terek does have responsibilities. He and I don't get along, though, so I have no idea what they are."

"Yeah, what does a king do in a matriarchal society?"

He shrugs. "No idea. The elves gave me ten titles. I hate all of them. I'm a prince because I married a princess."

I roll my eyes. "Well gee, thanks for clearing that up. I'm talking about the other nine. Actually just two. I haven't heard all your titles, just Crown Prince—which I think is different than just a regular Prince—and Rising King."

"You may want to ask one of the elves to clarify that for you because I think most of my titles mean the same thing. I'm a Crown Prince because I'm married to the heir to the throne. When I speak to people with high titles they have to refer to me as Crown Prince Dathid. Everyone else is allowed to call me Prince Dathid."

"I call you Dathid."

"Yeah, that's fine. We're friends. It would be weird if you called me by my title."

I like that he said we're friends. I mean, I kind of knew it, but it's nice to hear him say it.

"I am also the Rising King. Which sounds the same to me as Crown Prince, but I think it's more of an honor to be the Rising King. Not all the spouses to a Crown Princess get that title. It's like I was chosen, or they approve. I'm not sure. I think it was part of the treaty."

"Giving a faerie an extra title seems like a waste of time."

"I know. But I think the elves did it to make the transition easier. So the people of Cromsmead would know I was chosen, or something." He sighs. "For all the good that did."

He rests his head in his hand and his brows knit together as he gets lost in thought. I'm in dangerous territory. His mood is threatening to change and I don't have anything else to talk about.

He looks up and asks, "Should I pretend that Trelix just happened to walk in?"

I don't understand the question until I spot Trelix heading our way. I glare at Dathid, who grins at me. That smile is far too good of a weapon. "One of these days I may have to knock a few of those teeth out," I whisper under my breath.

Unfortunately, faeries have incredible hearing. "You'll have to be a Knight to do it," he mutters back.

I blush. I can't believe I said that, and worse, he heard it.

Trelix pulls up a chair. "I'm glad to see you haven't left yet."

I'm upset that this trap was set for me and angry that I willingly walked into it. "How do you two know each other?"

"We met this morning," Dathid answers.

"When you were coming up with this plan?" I ask.

He smiles. "No, we met, and then we came up with the plan."

I roll my eyes.

"Were you not going to discuss any of this with me?" Trelix asks. He sounds mad.

"I did! Every day."

He shakes his head. "You complained a lot, but you never once said you wanted to leave." He's not mad, he's sad. Or maybe confused...and definitely disappointed.

I soften my tone. I want him to understand that I'm the failure, not him. "I may not have phrased it that way. But I told you I wasn't a Knight. I told you I couldn't do it. I told you all the time."

"You never said you wanted to quit. And you never said you wanted to leave."

I take a deep breath. "It just kind of happened. I was sitting in that council meeting listening to them yell at each other. And I just thought, They're right. Why am I doing this?"

"To prevent a war," Trelix says. He's still not angry, more like astounded, that I won't stop this war. But he doesn't get it.

"I can't prevent a war," I say with force, so he understands. "I'm just a girl from Queens. You know better than anyone that I'm terrible at this. I'm not the right one."

"Stratagor Ziras is slashing and burning his way through Ashra." Trelix's eyes are wide with emotion, but I can't tell which one. Anger? Fear? Frustration? "If you don't stop him he'll find that key and march onto Earth. Is that what you want? How could you not even try?"

"I have tried! You don't understand. Everything is so easy for you!" My stupid lip is quivering. I will not cry! I put my head down so they can't see the tear forming against my lower lid.

Trelix is breathing hard like he's trying to suppress his rage.

"I saw you," Dathid says quietly.

I snap my attention to him. "Saw me what?"

"At the council meeting. I saw your face when Kolomi said he wanted to imprison you."

I look out the window. My heart skips a few beats, or maybe it stops and starts again. I feel exposed and raw. "So what?"

"That's when you decided to run."

I stand and toss my napkin on the table. "You're wrong!"

"Then why are you running?"

"Shut up," I whisper as I leave the restaurant.

Thank you for reading. I could really really use some feedback on the artwork. I'm a writer, not an artist, so feedback helps, even if you hate it : )