"I'll go and wake her," Serie said, and turned to the door, her movents as swift as ever.
"Wait, Serie," he called out to her. "Let her sleep a little longer. I have to go and speak with Lord Balin first."
She stopped and turned back, her eyes fixed on him. The intensity of her gaze made him a little uncomfortable. "What is it?" he asked.
"I was just thinking," she said, her gaze now on the floor, a lock of hair falling over her face, "that you're a little too... preferential... towards her. Or perhaps 'doting' is a better word?"
"Don't be ridiculous. And your choice of words is... inappropriate," he said, a dark look coming over his face, a vein beginning to throb in his temple. Doting? The word was too intimate, too easily misunderstood. Even 'spoiling' would have been better.
"Look," she said, either not noticing his change in expression, or not caring. She held up her slender fingers and began to count. "Leaving aside the... preferential treatnt... during her lessons for a mont, the seriousness with which you teach her is far greater than it ever was with . And your tolerance for her mistakes is much higher. And you always make sure she has her mana recovery potions. And her staff... you had that made for her, didn't you?"
She paused and then looked up, her gaze once again locking on to his, a clear reflection of his own now-flustered face in her eyes. "And just now... you even told to let her sleep a little longer. Is that not preferential treatnt?" Her voice began to rise, a note of an almost obsessive questioning in it. "I'm curious, Rhodes. Why?"
He was at a loss for words. It was true. He had been giving her preferential treatnt, without even realizing it. But for her to point it out so bluntly... it was a startling revelation.
Why?
The real answer... was it because he felt a sense of guilt for having stolen her place in history? Or was it because he wanted to witness the birth of a legend? He didn't know. He himself was a legend, of course, but he had had no choice. From the mont he and she had set out on their journey, their fate had been sealed. And when he had drawn the Divine Right Sword, Org, he had been forced onto the path of a god-slayer. It was a destiny he could not change. His own life had been a series of battles, of struggles, of being pushed forward by an unseen tide. He had been a player on the stage, in the spotlight, but sotis... he had just wanted to be a spectator. And her appearance had given him that chance.
But he couldn't tell her that. It would reveal his true identity, and 'seeing the future' was not a sufficient explanation.
"Don't be ridiculous, Serie. She's just a child. And she's exhausted. A little more rest will do her good. And our teaching styles are different. What's so strange about that? Your talent is far greater than hers. You can learn any spell with ease. You don't need so much coddling."
Her own talent, her own starting point... it was a world away from Flam's. But the elven miss was not so easily placated. She just stared at him, a clear and undeniable disbelief in her eyes. She pursed her lips, and the atmosphere in the room grew heavy, a silent, unspoken "I am not happy" that was far more oppressive than any spoken words.
He was beginning to feel a little flustered. The elven miss... she was jealous. To appease her, he had to give her a reason she could accept, an excuse to just smooth things over. And in his desperation, a flash of inspiration ca to him.
"Alright, alright! I admit it! I guess... I've been subconsciously treating her like a daughter. Yes, that's it."
"A daughter?"
She tilted her head, a look of genuine confusion on her face. Elves, with their long lifespans and their even longer reproductive cycles, had a very different concept of family. A parent-child bond existed, of course, but it was not nearly as intense, as tangible, as it was in human society. She understood the concept of 'offspring', but to 'raise as a daughter'... it was a concept that was filled with a uniquely human emotion, an emotion that she found difficult to comprehend.
"Yes, a daughter," he said, and seeing that he had captured her attention, he pressed on. "To watch her improve, to grow stronger, to go from a little girl to a fine mage... it's like watching your own child grow up."
"But you are not related by blood," she said coolly.
"That's not important. For humans, emotions are more important than that. To see such a promising young person... you naturally want to take care of them, to protect them. It's a kind of responsibility," he said, grasping at straws, trying to make his excuse sound more plausible.
She listened in silence, as if trying to process his words. She looked at his eager face, then thought of the girl. She did have a lot of potential. And she did need guidance. She tried to equate his description to an elven master training an apprentice, but it still felt different. An elven master would teach, of course, but they would never be so... involved.
But the word 'responsibility'... that, she could understand. She herself had only agreed to take the girl as an apprentice because she had seen her potential. Though their thods were different, in a way... they were a little similar, weren't they? So did that an... she was also her daughter? No, that still didn't make sense.
"So your preferential treatnt of her... it is because you see her as a daughter who needs to be cared for?" she summarized.
"Yes! That's it exactly."
She was silent for a mont, as if weighing the credibility of his explanation. Finally, with a soft "Mm," she gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod, a tacit acceptance. And the heavy, unhappy atmosphere around her began to dissipate.
"I understand," she said, her voice now back to its usual coolness.
But he could see it, in the depths of her eyes, a lingering doubt, a question that had not yet been answered. She was still thinking about it.
She looked at him for a mont longer, then turned and, without another word about the girl, said, "I'm going outside," and left the room.
~~~
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