The ten minutes we spent sitting on the edge of the large, plush bed were some of the quietest I had experienced since the portal opened. The chill of the room was still there, but being near Elphyete made it feel less sharp. We didn't talk much; I think we were both just trying to process the fact that I was now a "Prince" and she was back in the world she had tried to leave behind.
A light, rhythmic tapping on the heavy doors broke the silence. "Your Highnesses? It is time for the midday meal. The High King awaits," a soft voice called out.
We stood up, straightened our clothes, and followed the maid through the winding, emerald-lit hallways. The dining hall was even more impressive than the throne room. It was a long, open gallery where the walls were made of woven vines that let in the sweet-smelling forest breeze. At the center was a table carved from a single, massive piece of white oak.
King Elfhonse sat at the head of the table, looking every bit the ruler. He gestured for us to sit near him. The table was spread with a feast that looked like a work of art—vibrant fruits that glowed with a faint inner light, delicate pastries shaped like leaves, and roasted meats seasoned with herbs I couldn't name.
As the servants poured a sparkling nectar into our glasses, the King leaned back, his sharp eyes moving between the two of us. "So," he began, his voice deep and echoing. "I find myself curious. How exactly did a human of the capital and the Princess of the High Forest cross paths? When did you two meet?"
I took a bite of a honey-glazed fruit before clearing my throat. "It was the first day at the University," I said, a small smile tugging at my lips as I remembered the chaos. "I was busy staring up at a floating carriage, completely distracted by the city, when—Oof! Someone slammed into me with surprising force. Even with my training, the impact caught me off guard, and we both tumbled onto the cobblestones in a heap of limbs and bags."
I looked over at Elphyete, who was already starting to turn pink. "I looked up and saw Elphyete in her scholar's robes. She was bowing so fast her ears were practically flopping, stammering about being in a rush and how sorry she was. Before I could even ask if she was okay, she let out a tiny squeak and bolted into the crowd toward the gates."
The King let out a short, surprised bark of laughter, looking at his daughter. "Bolted, did she? That sounds like my Elphyete."
"I thought she was gone forever," I continued, "and I was almost late myself! I had to dive into the market stalls to grab as much food as I could carry—grilled meat, honey-bread, everything—and I barely slid through the University gates as they were slamming shut. I ended up skidding across the marble floor with a bag of snacks clutched to my chest."
Elphyete looked at her plate, a shy smile finally breaking through her embarrassment. "I didn't think I'd see him again either," she murmured softly. "But then we were placed in the same class... and eventually the same house. It felt like the forest was trying to tell me something."
King Elfhonse hummed, his gaze softening as he watched Elphyete. He seemed to be seeing a side of his daughter he hadn't seen in a long time—someone who wasn't just a Princess, but a girl who had found a genuine companion.
"A collision at the gates," the King mused, picking up his glass. "A messy start for a Prince and Princess, but perhaps a strong foundation nonetheless."
Claude, who was standing near the wall with the other guards, let out a faint, disgruntled huff, but the King ignored him. For the first time since we arrived, the atmosphere felt a little less like an interrogation and a little more like a meal between people.
After the heavy midday meal, we stepped away from the grand table and wandered out onto one of the many sweeping balconies that branched off the castle's upper levels. The view was unlike anything I had ever seen in the human capital. The entire kingdom was a living tapestry of silver-barked trees and glowing greenery, with houses woven directly into the massive boughs like intricate birds' nests. Down below, the elven people moved like tiny specks of light, their lanterns beginning to flicker on as the shadows of the canopy lengthened. The air up here was thin and sweet, carrying the scent of ancient pine and blooming star-flowers.
I leaned against the cool marble railing, watching the wind ripple through the leaves. "Euphyne must be losing his mind looking for us right now," I said, a small grin tugging at my lips. "He probably woke up to an empty house and started shouting for breakfast, only to find the kitchen cold and the 'King's' audience missing."
Elphyete let out a soft, genuine chuckle, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "I guess you're right... he's probably wandering the halls right now, declaring that the sun has forgotten to rise because he hasn't been fed his morning meat pie." She looked out at her home, her expression a mix of nostalgia and a lingering desire for the simplicity of our life at the university. We stayed there for ten minutes, just breathing in the quiet of the forest, before the chill of the darkening sky pushed us back inside.
Once we returned to her massive, gold-accented room, the atmosphere shifted to something much more relaxed. She pulled out a few of her favorite books—ancient volumes with covers made of polished living wood and pages that felt like soft silk. The script was elegant and flowing, and though I couldn't understand most of the elven history she was reading, she would occasionally lean over and point out a beautiful illustration of a mythical beast or a legendary star-seer.
Eventually, we moved to a small table carved from ivory and played a game of elven chess. I thought I was a decent strategist, but Elphyete was surgical. We played twenty rounds, and every single time, her pieces surrounded my king before I even realized I was in trouble. By the twentieth defeat, I just slumped back in my chair, staring at the board in disbelief while she gave me a shy, apologetic smile.
"Maybe I'm just lucky today?" she offered quietly.
"Lucky twenty times in a row?" I laughed, shaking my head. "You're just way better at this than you let on."
Dinner was a grand affair once again, though the King seemed more preoccupied with festival logistics than interrogating me. After we ate, we retreated to the sanctuary of our shared quarters. Elphyete went for her bath first, leaving me alone in the vast room for a while, and when she returned, her hair was damp and smelled like fresh rain. I took my turn, the hot water easing the tension in my muscles, and finally, we both settled into the massive, fur-draped bed.
The room was cold, the mountain air creeping in through the stone walls, making the heavy blankets feel like a necessity. As we lay there in the dark, the moonlight casting long, silver rectangles across the floor, I felt the need to say what had been on my mind all day.
"Elphyete," I said, my voice low in the quiet room. "I just wanted to say thank you. For saving me from being decapitated or thrown in a dungeon... whatever you did back there when you pulled your father aside. You saved me. Thank you."
The reaction was instantaneous. Even in the dim light, I could see the blood rush to her face. She didn't say a word; she just jerked her head to the opposite side, clutching the blankets and pulling them up so high only her eyes and the tips of her reddening ears were visible. She curled into a small ball, her entire body radiating that familiar, shy heat.
"I... I just did what I had to," she whispered, her voice muffled by the furs.
I smiled to myself, closing my eyes as the exhaustion of being a "Prince" finally took hold. "Goodnight, Elphyete."
"Goodnight, Sogha," she replied, her voice so small and quiet it was almost lost to the wind outside.
The morning sun filtered through the high glass dome of the bedroom, casting a lattice of light across the golden furniture. We managed to slip past the heavy oak doors while the morning shift of guards was distracted by a particularly loud argument between Claude and a delivery of festival supplies. Moving through the secret garden paths Elphyete knew from her childhood, we bypassed the main gates and blended into the bustling streets of the forest city.
It felt like a heist. We ducked into a small, tucked-away bar where the drinks were infused with glowing nectar, then shared a quick meal at a quiet restaurant that served savory mushroom pies. We even stopped at a flower shop, the air thick with the scent of moon-lilies and sun-ferns. For a few hours, the weight of the "Prince" and "Princess" titles vanished. We weren't royals; we were just Sogha and Elphyete, two students on a break, exploring a world made of living wood and ancient magic.
But the thrill of the escape eventually wore off as we realized the guards would be doing a room check soon. We hurried back, using the same vine-covered trellis to climb back onto her balcony, and collapsed into the room just as the heavy footsteps of the sentries passed by in the hall.
Now, we were back where we started. The excitement of the secret outing had faded, leaving us trapped in the silence of the massive, luxury suite. I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the intricate gold carvings on the wardrobe, while Elphyete sat beside me, her feet dangling and her ears drooping slightly.
"Bored..." I muttered, the word echoing off the high ceiling.
"Yeah," Elphyete sighed, leaning back on her elbows. "There's only so much chess and reading I can do before the walls start to feel like they're closing in. In the human capital, there was always something to do, or Euphyne was being loud enough to keep us busy."
The room was too quiet. The festival was happening just outside our doors, but as the "Royal Couple," we weren't allowed to participate until the official ceremony at sundown. The silence was heavy, and even Snowball, who had found a patch of sunlight on the rug, was too tired to do anything but twitch his tail.
I looked over at her. She looked smaller in this giant room, surrounded by gold and expectations. I looked at the ceiling and thought that the "Prince" announcement had made everything so complicated.
"Elphyete," I said, breaking the silence. "Since we're so bored... maybe we should do something about that 'Prince' title. Or at least, talk about why your father was so quick to give it to me."
She turned her head, her silver hair spilling across the silk bedspread. "He's just protective, Sogha. And... I think he saw that I was happy. He's not good at showing it, but he'd rather give you a title than lose me back to the human lands again."
We sat there for another long minute, the ticking of a nearby clock the only sound in the room. The boredom was starting to become unbearable, and the sun was still hours away from setting.