Niwen hung the dresses and arranged Patrice's bedroom in preparation to assist her. She didn't know much about humans but knew that they were not aware of the realms. That meant that she would not know about royal protocols.

Niwen's attention turned to the door. Patrice was standing there with a stunned expression.

"You're not used to such luxury?" she asked.

"My entire apartment is the size of the living room."

"Oh," Niwen said softly. "I'm sure this must be quite daunting for you then."

"It is, and I hope that I am not here long enough to become accustomed to it."

Niwen remained quiet. She had pieced a few things together, and upon her return to the castle with the items the prince requested, she asked questions. Their discussion was brief, and the prince asked for her complete silence regarding the subject. If she had questions, Niwen could ask him but no one else. Evander was the human's caretaker, and it was his responsibility to ensure that everything was okay in her life while she was in their world.

"Would you like to select your outfit for the afternoon, milady?"

Patrice looked at the items, giving Niwen a shrug.

"The red one, I suppose."

She tried to play it cool, pretending that the outfit was not the prettiest she'd ever seen. Moving behind the screen, Patrice smiled. It had been a long time since she'd been in new clothes.

"There are new undergarments for you to use."

"Oh, I don't think that's appropriate," Patrice said as she held up the bloomers that were far too short.

"Milady, the prince has extended a generous financial grant for you to utilise while you are here at the palace. There are expectations that those who attend court are dressed in a certain way, and he wants you to feel comfortable and to obey the rules of his race. Aside from that, would you want to sit with the king in a dirty dress?"

Patrice could easily say that after his rude behaviour earlier, it would be fitting. In fact, she might find the closest pig pen and roll around to annoy him.

"To annoy him? Sounds positively interesting."

Hearing silence, Patrice glanced around the screen. Niwen stared in shock.

"You don't like His Highness?"

"I take it you do?"

"Of course. He is a wonderful leader. Our world prospers under his leadership and has done so for many years."

"Right, so I guess he's only rude to me then. Interesting."

Niwen pulled the shirt and long red skirt off the rack and hung them on the screen.

"I know that this is difficult for you, but understand that His Highness will be concerned about why his stakalis left him and bonded with you. This is not normal. In fact, I don't think it has ever happened before. Did anyone tell you what will be happening to him?"

"Wither and die."

Patrice turned to dress in the undergarments while Niwen remained on the other side of the screen.

"That is what eventually happens. Currently, he would be experiencing mood swings and internal pain that can be quite brutal."

"Hang on," Patrice interrupted as she moved to look at the maid. "How can you know this if it's never happened before?"

"It has never willingly left an elf. However, there have been many who have broken or lost their stakalis. The process to replace them is extremely difficult, and many die before they can reach the temple. Which, for the record, is nowhere near here. If His Highness were to choose this path, it would take quite some time to get there. The body begins to shut down,"

Niwen clutched her stakalis that hung from her necklace, trapped in a gold filigree cage.

"But enough of the morbid talk. His Highness will be expecting you, so we must not delay."

Patrice wanted to state that how fast she moved would depend on which royal was expecting them, but she didn't. It was clear that Niwen thought the world of her leader.

The lace shirt was soft and delicate. Despite it being thin, Patrice believed it was modest and to her liking. The sleeves went to her elbows, something that Patrice found incredibly pleasing.

As for the skirt, it was perfect. Flowing freely from her waist, the A-line skirt reached midcalf, which was the exact length that Patrice liked it to be.

"This is a lovely shade of red."

"It is," Niwen agreed.

She pulled the chair out, waiting for Patrice to sit down. Her hair was still damp, but that was okay. The style she planned would pull everything back to a neat bob at the back of her neck. It would dry naturally and not look any different.

When Niwen was done, she began to tidy up while Patrice collected the stakalis and her letter. It was becoming tattered. It pained Patrice to think that one day it would fall apart in her fingers.

"Alright, I'll finish tidying after I've delivered you to His Highness. Ready?"

Patrice nodded, even though it was a lie. As Niwen moved to the door, Patrice looked at herself one last time. She hadn't looked this good in a long time.

In the throne room, Jarek was arguing with one of the clerics while Evander read the book that they were discussing. It was a particular chapter that had inflamed the discussion. The king was not a happy elf at the moment.

"I'm afraid to say that he's right, Jarek."

Evander slapped the book shut, silencing the argument.

"You are wrong," he hissed. "This cannot be."

"In ink, for all to read," Evander said, waggling the book to torment his brother.

Jarek huffed in anger, slumping back against his throne.

"This is ridiculous."

The cleric said nothing as he returned to his seat at the table. When he found an answer, it had been pleasing, and he expected a happy king. What he got was the opposite.

"Must I remind you that humans are mortal?"

"If you took the time to read the passage, you'd understand that this will deal with that. In fact, I'm inclined to think that Patrice is no longer mortal. You cannot escape this fate, dear brother."

Jarek scowled at him once again. Of late, it seemed to be a regular occurrence.

"And if you bothered to spend more than an angry moment in her company, you'd find that she is quite a lovely person."

Jarek leaned on the armrests, moving closer to his annoying brother.

"Then why don't you marry her?"

Evander merely smiled, waggling the book at him once again. In anger, Jarek took the book from Evander and threw it to the side of the room.

"I will not be dictated to by a book." he barked.

"Then you will die," Evander said simply. "However, if you decide that you'd like to live, then perhaps you should reconsider your position on Patrice. You have time yet, so long as she is here, you will feel a connection to the stone, and it will sustain your life."

Jarek perked up.

"But only for a short time," he added.

Annoyed once again, Jarek sat back on the throne.

"You waste time so needlessly. Dispose of the money-hungry monster and do what fate has demanded of you."

"I have no interest in asking Adella to leave or ending our relationship. This is not my future."

Evander hummed with amusement.

"Then I shall mourn your passing but only briefly as I will have a lot to do being the new king."

A frustrated growl softly escaped Jarek. It ended quickly when his attention turned to the maid that appeared at the door. She curtsied then stepped back for her companion. Jarek became silent as he watched the human enter the throne room.

"Ah, Patrice," Evander said eagerly. "I hope that you are pleased with Niwen's selection of clothing."

"She has excellent taste," Patrice offered. "The items are lovely, and I must thank you for your generosity."

"It's perfectly fine."

Jarek's eyes narrowed. He could not hear what his brother or the human were talking about. Still, he could not detract from her. Not when she stood at the door, not when she walked next to his brother. Patrice smiled at him, and the king stared. He felt drawn to her, curious about everything and eager to learn it all.

"Jarek,"

His head snapped to the doorway, smiling as Adella approached. She thought it was for her but quickly saw the human and how easily she called the king with her mere presence. Now that she was clean and not covered in a layer of dirt, the human was quite pretty. Adella was not impressed and believed that she was an issue.

"Have you changed your mind?"

Adella glanced at the human then returned to Jarek.

"I thought that I was busy, but as it turns out, I am completely free." she lied.

Getting out of this place to cancel her plans would be difficult, but she would have to do it because Adella would not trust anyone else to attend to the task for her. Adella had no interest in staying for dinner tonight until she saw the human. Realising that she was not some little beast, Adella knew that she had to ensure that she wasn't ousted for someone else.

Crossing the room, Adella offered a supreme smile when the human looked at her. She was a shy little thing but a clear threat to her placement at Jarek's side.

When she reached Jarek, Adella held out her hand. She offered a pretty pout, hoping to keep Jarek's attention to her and not the human.

"Perhaps we could walk in the garden, my love."

Jarek knew where he should be. He knew what the book said. Still, he found himself rising from the throne to take her hand.

"Sounds calming."

They walked out of the room, hand in hand. Patrice ignored the view, even if something curled in her stomach. She believed it was bile rising.

Evander rolled his eyes and turned to collect the book that had been thrown in anger. He'd like to throw it at his brother to remind him about what had been said but didn't bother. Soon enough, Jarek will come crawling back. It was highly likely that Jarek would literally crawl back if the process continued.

Putting the book down on the table, Evander was distracted by watching his brother and the monster. He did not see Patrice pick it up.

It didn't take long for Patrice to find the passage when the cleric had marked it. A soft sob escaped.

Evander turned with fear rising quickly. Tear filled eyes looked up at him.

"Is it true?" she whispered.

Grimly, he nodded.

"I'm never going home, am I?"

Evander didn't get a chance to answer Patrice before she fired the following question at him. She rose to her feet, anger in her heart and tears in her eyes.

"Does he know?"

Regretfully, Evander nodded.

"And this is what I am faced with?"

Her hand flung toward the door, gesturing to the couple as they ventured through the entrance to the garden.

"Do you truly find it upsetting? Because I get the impression that you're not that interested anyway."

"I am trapped here," Patrice protested. "This book says that I am bound to this world. It says that this stone has decided my fate to be his lover."

The angry words were spat out like poison on her tongue.

"He knows this, and look at him. Look at how he treats me. This is disrespect in its finest form. I mean nothing to him, and yes, I know that he means nothing to me, but I am not the one that is walking in a garden with my girlfriend."

Patrice tossed the book to the table, then wiped the tears from under her eyes.

"Well, I am done. It is not me who will die if nothing changes. All I get is an immortal life remembering that I lost my husband in war only to find that the creature that trapped me into this endless nightmare could have saved him. I know that you will probably expect me to attend dinner tonight. Given the current situation, I am inclined to refuse. I'd like it if you respected my choice and have dinner sent to my quarters. Perhaps tomorrow, we will discuss my future here in this world. And by we, I mean you and me, not him."

Patrice turned, storming out of the throne room.

She did not look across the hall. Her path was direct to the stairs. If she had looked out, Patrice would have seen a woman doing all that she could to gain the attention of a king that was distracted by a fleeing figure.