(Dylan)

‘Just like a pup with a bone,’ Dylan thought, his lips shifting into a crooked smile. ‘She doesn’t give up.’

Tenacity was something he could respect, even admired. But did that mean she changed her mind about him? There were worse fates than living happily ever after with a princess. A month ago, a girl—sorry, a woman—like her, wouldn’t have even noticed a guy like him. Unfortunately for all interested parties, he needed to figure his shit out first.

Eury squared her shoulders, suppressing a wince as she brushed a stray strand of her rose gold hair from her face. Her adamant eyes locked on him.

“Because I’ve already told you, I don’t want to be treated like a princess,” she said, looking very much like a disheveled, proper princess.

He bit his cheek, stifling a laugh at her ironic composure. Instead, he said, “I’m positive it’s not because you’re a princess.” The certainty in her eyes wavered at his response, replaced with confusion.

Her voice softened as she asked, “But… how do you know?” There wasn’t an edge to the question, no expectation of a particular answer. It wasn’t meant to test an assumption or confirm an idea—it was genuine. For the first time, she asked without knowing what she hoped to hear.

The answer slipped out before he could second-guess it. “Because I have feelings for another princess,” he said.

“Oh…” she said softly. Her posture shifted slightly, closing in on itself as she grew quiet, withdrawing into her own space.

Even Dylan hadn’t expected that answer. It hung in the air between them, irrevocable.

She glanced up, her voice hinted at surprise. “You know more than one princess?”

The words barely left her lips before her expression shifted. Her ‘thinking face’ slipped into place. After a beat, her eyes narrowed on him again with renewed determination, as if she just accepted an unspoken challenge.

Dylan’s stomach sank. He knew that look. He’d seen it before. ‘Oh no,’ he thought. ‘She’s competitive…’

He scratched at his forearm, his smile turning awkward. “Well, know might be a stretch. But, apparently, I’m her best friend? She said so when we first met. Not really sure how that works…” His thoughts trailed off momentarily.

Actually, he knew exactly how it worked. People always seemed to latch onto him. Runemist wasn’t wrong—he had a big heart. He saw everyone as a friend… until they proved otherwise.

“Huh,”—he put a finger to his chin—“now that I think of it… she’s also tackled me. Not to save my life, though.” His gaze drifted somewhere in the middle distance before snapping back to Eury. “Thanks for that, by the way. Wait, does this make us even?”

Eury seemed to be enjoying herself, a half-smile playing on her lips as she listened. She appeared content to let him keep entertaining her with his ‘thoughts-out-loud routine.’

“You know,” he continued, sitting up straighter. “Now that I think of it… we also bonded after a near-death experience. Except that time, I was the one who almost died, not her.” He absently picked at his nails.

“You’re both very pretty, by the way.” Dylan added, then froze. His gaze darted to her as he cleared his throat. “I mean, as a friend. I think you’re very pretty.”

He clasped both hands in his lap, anchoring himself. “It’s just… today’s conversation got me thinking. Maybe you need to hear kind things more often.” His words softened, and after a pause, another thought slipped in. “I wonder if Nathan needs that too…?”

“Nathan?” Eury’s eyebrows shot up at the mention of his name, her expression sharpening like she’d stumbled onto a clue Dylan hadn’t noticed.

He waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, he’s not a princess,” Dylan said, then froze mid-thought. “At least… I don’t think he’s a princess.” His face scrunched as the question hit him. “Wait—can boy elves be a princess?” He scratched the back of his head.

Eury shook her head, a soft giggle escaping before she covered her mouth. “No,” she managed between breaths.

Dylan chuckled along, the image of Nathan in a tiny tiara flashing in his mind. It was too ridiculous not to laugh.

“Sorry,” he said, composing himself. “It just occurred to me I’ve had some common experiences with you and the other princess.”

Eury’s gaze fell to the orange cloak in her hands, her fingers brushing over the fabric. “She’s lucky,” she said with a sigh.

Dylan waved his hand across the sky like he was delivering a headline. “Old fat guy has crush on pretty princess. News at nine…” He let his hand drop, shrugging. “Not sure ‘lucky’ is the right word.”

“You’re not old,” Eury said, her tone unexpectedly firm. “And if it’s who I think it is… technically, she’s older than you.”

Dylan lowered his head with a sigh. “Everyone looks so young here. And I’m already terrible at guessing ages—”

Eury, clearly done with his self-pity, cut him off. “It’s barely been a week, and you’re already less round than when we first met.” She motioned toward his midsection.

She had a point. Charles’ pants weren’t such a perfect fit anymore—his belt had been picking up the slack more each day. He’d have to fix that when he got home.

The thought hit harder than expected. Charles wouldn’t be there when he got back. A twinge built in his sinuses, his eyes watering as the realization settled in. He sniffled. It’d be at least three months before he’d see his rugged friend again.

“Well, I think she’s lucky,” Eury said, her finger tracing the hem of the cloak again. “I’ve seen what you’re willing to do for a rival—”

Dylan cut her off with a raised hand. “I don’t think of you as a rival.”

“That’s because you’re an idiot,” she replied, her smile turning wry. “A very kind, considerate, and trusting idiot.” She shrugged lightly. “At first, I thought it might’ve been because you liked me, but…” She trailed off, her gaze dropping for a moment as if weighing her next words. “But if you’d save a rival, then I wonder what you’d do for someone you loved?”

“I don’t love M—” He stopped short, correcting himself. “—her.”

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Eury raised an eyebrow, her expression equal parts curious and skeptical. “Do you want to kiss her?”

“Yeah,” he admitted, the word feeling heavier than he expected.

The realization hit him—this was what she wanted. He turned the mirror back on her. “Is that what you’re looking for?”

“Everyone wants to be loved,” she said, her gaze fixed firmly on the orange cloak in her hands. Her fingers toyed with the fabric, a quiet deflection.

He couldn’t imagine she didn’t have a line of suitors stretching for miles, waiting outside her city, her castle, or wherever she lived. “Pretty sure W’itney wasn’t just joking when they were hitting on you,” he said, then added awkwardly, “and me…”

“I know they weren’t,” she said with a sigh. “But they’re young, and draconi are ruled by their hormones. At that age, they’re still experimenting, exploring their sexuality. I don’t want to be anyone’s training wheels. They’ve got a long way to go before they figure out what they really want.”

Her voice dropped, barely above a whisper. “Besides, they weren’t the one to risk their life to save mine.”

Dylan’s intrusive thoughts slipped out before he could stop them. “At least the twins didn’t suggest you should’ve risked your life in the first place. Wedge is strong enough to hold my weight. I should’ve been the one to go down.”

Eury’s gaze sharpened as she peered at him from under her brows. “And who would’ve noticed when you passed out?” she asked pointedly. “Or realigned the chain to get you out?” She straightened with a wince, brushing off the discomfort. “Also, none of us know how to cast cardiopulmonary resuscitation.”

All three were excellent points. Fortunately, she had no idea about his ability to reset.

He suppressed the urge to point out that CPR wasn’t a spell, and from experience, he knew better than to argue. “You’re right,” he said.

Her smile bordered on smirking. “Of course I’m right, but my point is, outward appearances are easy to change, but what’s inside? That rarely changes.” She paused, her gaze lifting as she searched for the right words. When her eyes met his again, they were steady. “Dylan, I think your inner beauty is—how did you say it?” A small smile played on her lips. “An eleven out of ten,” she finished with an affirming nod.

The compliment struck him harder than expected. It was one of the kindest things anyone had ever said to him, and for a moment, he didn’t know how to respond.

“Thank you.” His cheeks warmed, a faint blush creeping up as he looked away, suddenly very interested in the remaining dirt under his nails.

A full minute passed, and he could still feel her gaze fixed on him. With no speck of dirt left under his nails, he finally looked up. The intensity of her attention made his skin prickle. Knowing her, she probably had her ‘thinking face’ on the whole time.

Dylan shot her a sideways glance. “What are you thinking?” he asked, half afraid of the answer.

Her lips quirked to one side. “Listen, if things don’t work out with your best friend and you’re still not scared of princesses, I’ve got an older sister you should meet. Technically, she’s first in line.” She held up two pinched fingers. “So there’s a slight chance you’d have to be king.”

Her hand flattened, palm out, as if to calm any objections. “But my father’s only in his four-hundreds, so that might not even be an issue.” She frowned thoughtfully. “Although… she has a bit of a reputation—”

“What?” Dylan interrupted, completely thrown by the sudden turn in the conversation.

She shut her eyes, a trace of embarrassment crossing her face. Once again, she’d forgotten he wasn’t an elf. “Sorry, do you know about Kinship?”

Dylan pursed his lips, his brow furrowing slightly. “You mean… like family relationship stuff?”

“Kind of.” She frowned, as if considering ways to explain it simply. “Kinship is an elven tradition. We arrange romantic relationships for our family.”

“You have arranged marriages?” He tried not to sound judgmental. After all, their divorce rate was way lower—or so he’d heard on YouTube…

“No.” She shook her head. “They don’t have to get married. Kinship is when we introduce potential partners to our single family members. It’s up to them whether they want to pursue a relationship, but we’ve vetted the suitor and believe they’d make a good match.”

“Oh, okay,” he said, clearly misunderstanding the entire conversation until now.

“So, you didn’t really want to kiss me.” Relief washed over him. At least there’d be no awkward love triangles in his future.

“Me? Kiss… you?” Her eyes darted around, wide and unfocused, as if searching for an escape.

‘Oh no,’ he thought, recognizing the all-too-familiar signs. Eury was pulling a Dylan.

“Uh, I… That would be silly,” she stammered, her cheeks flushing. “I—me—you?” Her words tumbled over each other, a train wreck of self-denial and fear of rejection colliding spectacularly before his eyes.

“Why would… I mean.” She cleared her throat sharply, straightening herself with forced composure. “That’s… not how Kinship works.” Her focus dropped to a blade of grass she’d plucked, tearing at it absently as she tried to steady her nerves.

Dylan frowned, less relieved now about the possibility of awkward love triangles—sorry, awkward princess love triangles—in his future. With all his new elven friends, it might be smart to learn more about Kinship, so he didn’t accidentally end up married.

After giving her a moment to compose herself, he asked, “Do elves ever find their own partners?”

“No.” Her soft voice carried a faint note of disappointment she couldn’t quite hide.

Dylan crossed his arms, confusion tangling with curiosity. Eury wasn’t just ‘asking for a friend,’ or her sister, or whatever. Even he wasn’t dense enough to miss the subtext. But how did it all work? Was she really not allowed—or worse, wouldn’t allow herself—to find love?

That seemed… lonely. He wasn’t sure he was keen on Kinship.

“But what if you meet someone that you like?” His question was blunt, reflective, but he trusted she was strong enough to handle it.

Eury tore the last shred of grass in two, her fingers trembling slightly as she tried to hide the sadness in her eyes. “You consider them for Kinship,” she said, her voice brittle. She managed a faint, despondent smile.

That was a lot for Dylan to unpack.

For one, it confirmed she liked him—or at least he was ninety-nine percent sure of it. She’d allowed herself to be vulnerable around him, sharing deeply personal parts of her life. That kind of trust wasn’t something he took lightly.

He cared for all of his friends, but the idea of Eury being alone, when it was so clear she didn’t want to be, pulled at something inside of him. Wasn’t that part of what Kinship was about? Making sure no one you cared about ended up alone? The concept, as foreign as it had seemed at first, started to click.

But then another thought crept in, quiet yet insistent. Eury had tenacity, proved herself thoughtful, showed him kindness, and, surprisingly, had a sense of humor. She even laughed at his jokes, regardless of intentionality. But was that all it was? Caring about a friend? Or was there something more—something he hadn’t noticed until now?

The question settled in the back of his mind, unanswered.

His thoughts wandered to the limits of Kinship. “What if you don’t have any family?” he asked.

“No family at all?” Eury let out a slow breath, the thought clearly foreign to her. “That’s… a tough concept to grasp. Elves live for a thousand years, and I’ve got generations of family looking out for me. But maybe through war, feuds, or a plague? That’s the only way I can imagine an entire lineage getting wiped out.”

Sorrow thickened her voice as she repeated, “But to have no one?” She shook her head slowly. “For an elf, that would be an exceptionally cruel fate. We’re social creatures—we need attachments to thrive. Kinship ensures family feels loved and cared for, even in our absence. I can’t imagine being truly alone.”

Eury lied. Dylan knew she was imagining it—her tears were proof enough. They rolled silently down her cheek as she blotted them with a corner of his cloak.

She tugged the hood of the cloak over her head, fidgeting with another blade of grass. Sniffling softly, she said, “I should probably rest for a bit.”

“Just don’t fall asleep until Runemist checks you out, okay?” Dylan leaned forward, trying to catch a glimpse of her face beneath the hood.

She nodded, keeping her eyes hidden.

“We can just sit here quietly until she gets here, if you’d like.” He caught a fleeting smile before she nodded again.

Dylan had thought he was the one distracting her from the pain, but she’d done the same for him. While they talked, he’d completely forgotten about his empty stomach. Now, in the silence, it came roaring back with a vengeance—grumbling, bloating, and generally being malcontent.

“Doesn’t matter,” he whispered to his growling stomach. Wedge gave him a job: watch over his friend. And that’s exactly what he was going to do.

They waited together in silence. The rain had stopped some time ago, leaving only a gentle breeze rustling through the canopy. Sunlight trickled through the trees, casting warm patches of light across the understory.

Dylan tapped his boot against hers at the first sign of her nodding off.

Eury sat up straighter, her eyes snapping open to lock on his. She scrunched her face in mock annoyance and tapped him back—twice as hard.

Their game continued, quiet but relentless, until Tome & Key arrived. By then, Dylan was pretty sure she’d been pretending to nod off the entire time.