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A rare smile crosses their lips. “No, fix your damn hair. I’ve been aching to tame those curls for you.”
“That sounds an awful lot like you want to help me. Out of kindness.”
“Don’t get it twisted.”
“Does Das Celyn have a heart?” I tease.
“This is a purely selfish act. It’s only because I can’t look at your raggedy appearance a second longer. It pains me.”
“Whatever you say, but I think I’m starting to grow on you.”
“Like fungus on an unwashed buttock.”
A burst of laughter escapes me.
“You’re growing on me, too,” I say. “Everyone here is.” I think about the kindness Ken and Viv have showed me. The care in Eoin’s eyes yesterday when he healed me—despite being strangers to one another. “Except Rainer,” I lie.
“Good thing he doesn’t care about a measly human’s opinion of him.”
Thinking back to Das Celyn’s rumbling stomach, and taking in their small frame, a surge of pity overcomes me.
But Rainer sent up food that day in the kitchen, the day we shared doughnuts. I suppose I’m desperate to know if the soft sides I’ve seen of him are real.
I need to know.
“Das Celyn, does the prince treat you poorly?” I whisper.
Their eyes narrow and they plant a hand on their practically nonexistent hip. “You think he treats me poorly?”
“I hope not.” My hands twist in my lap. “It’s just—I don’t know. Nevermind.”
They finish running their fingers through my curls. Then they put a bit of cream on their hands, rubbing them together, before returning to my hair. They yank a little too hard and I let out a yelp.
“Whoops,” they say. “That was an accident.”
“It’s fine.”
Another silence drags on.
“You didn’t answer me,” I say quietly.
“Mind your business, gal.”
“If you need help, I can—”
“You can, what?” Das Celyn steps in front of me and leans down. We’re so close that we’re eye-to-eye with just a few inches separating our faces. I can smell the berries on their breath. “You think that you—a human—knows best? You think you know everything? That you can help everyone?” They shake their head, backing away while they mutter something to themselves.
“I didn’t—” I don’t know how to react to their outburst. I was only trying to help them. Steeling myself with a heavy breath, I say, “I don’t know why everyone takes offense when I offer to help them, but where I come from, it’s a kind offer. It’s not meant to offend.”
“Fern said you offered to help her, too.”
“I did.”
That was so many weeks ago, and though I’ve given up on thinking she needs the help, the offer still stands.
“Neither of us need your help, nor do we want it. Like I said, you know nothing. Just because you dislike the prince, it doesn’t mean we all do. And he doesn’t starve me, so stop flapping your lips about that.”
Swallowing the knot in my throat, I shake my head. “I don’t dislike him.”
