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“Then stop digging. Let it go.”
“It seems like I’ll be here for a while.” I wouldn’t go as far to say this place is my home, but it’s starting to become a lot better than where I come from. “I just wish he’d stop treating me like a—a—”
“Like what? Like a human?” Das Celyn smiles smugly at me, their annoyance from a moment ago washed away. They reach for a tin of cosmetics on the table beside me, rubbing a pale peach coloring on their finger before softly smearing it across my forehead and cheeks. “This is the tin you chucked at his head, by the way.”
I scrunch my face, still embarrassed about that.
“Relax your face. Stop moving like that.” I oblige, and they continue blending the color in. “Good aim, by the way.”
“It was an accident,” I mutter.
“So you didn’t mean to hit him?”
“No—I meant to. I just didn’t think I actually would.”
Das Celyn covers their laugh with a cough and I chuckle. After a second, we both lose it, snorting with laughter.
They set the tin down, squatting down so we’re eye to eye.
“Not all humans get laid up in such luxurious accommodations,” they say. “Not all humans get the privilege of training with Viv and Ken—two of the most prolific warriors from the courts. Stop pouting and be grateful for what he’s given you.”
The words sink in, and I slowly nod. I see where they're coming from. The situation is a lot better than I initially had thought, when it’s put like that.
“I am extremely grateful for that. But it’s hard to call this place home when I’m so unwanted here.”
Das Celyn snorts. “You are unwanted here. Yet here you are.”
“Gee, great.”
“At least you’re learning.” They pull back, tilting their head to the side as they eye their handiwork.
After a few beats of silence as they smudge kohl on my eyes, I can’t help but saying, “Rainer likes Fern.”
Das Celyn snorts so hard that I flinch. “Is that jealousy I hear?”
“What? No!” Yes. My cheeks heat as I think of my dream last night… and even worse, of Rainer walking in on me afterward.
“Well, I don’t like Fern. Neither does Ken. Consider yourself at an advantage there.”
My lips twitch at the admission from Das Celyn. Whether they realize it or not, they just admitted to liking me. At least in their own way. For some reason, it does little to soften the sharp pang in my heart at the idea of Rainer not liking me, though.
“Rainer doesn’t much care for her either,” they say, eyeing me curiously. “I’ve told you before: stop assuming things.”
“Fair enough. But can I ask something else?” They grunt, and I take it as a reluctant affirmative. “Is Fern really okay? She seems…”
“It’s nothing personal,” Das Celyn says.
“No. It’s not that.” I chew my lip, glancing away. “I saw her take a pill.”
Das Celyn surprises me when they step back and level a serious stare at me. “Fern struggles with her reality. She depends on substances to survive.” They reach for a small tapered brush, leaning forward to dust a translucent powder across my skin.
“An addict?” My brows pinch with confusion.
“Stop wrinkling your face.” Das Celyn grips my chin as they continue to work. “Something like that.”
“She doesn’t look like an addict.”
Das Celyn purses her lips as she scrutinizes me. “And what do you suppose an addict looks like, huh?”
