“She doesn’t want to talk, Luce,” Ben said quietly. “Come on. Let me show you what I’m working on.” He glanced over at Calliope with a smile. “Luce is kind of a whiz with machinery.”
Ben's face fell slightly, but he didn't say anything. As he led her over to the desk, the door opened. A human man entered the library, wearing long robes. He had a bald head and a goatee, but power radiated from him. His fingers had rings that glittered with jewels and in his hand, he carried a large staff inlaid with rubies.
He looked down at her, raising an eyebrow before barking out. "Benedict!" Ben looked over and he frowned, approaching the man, subconsciously stepping in front of Calliope almost protectively. "Hello, Lord Reglas." "Who is this?" "The Elf," he said quietly. "The one from the Ortus."
Cal looked anxious again, as if withdrawing into herself. She hesitantly stood, her hands folded nervously.
He squinted at her for a moment before gesturing to the door. "We will talk out here." Ben frowned but nodded, looking back at her reassuringly. "I'll be right back. Finish your breakfast."
"Shouldn't you be in the kitchens, Luce?" the man growled. Luce squinted at him, but moved past them, leaving them behind. The door closed behind them.
She would be able to hear loud voices arguing outside the door. “They need it, Edgar,” she would hear Ben growl. “They need it now; we can’t afford to let them wait any longer.” “We need it,” the man replied sharply. “We need it in order to further the cause. If some civilians have to die, then so be it.”
There was a silence on the other end. "It's not right," he said after a moment. "We need to help our people." "Is that why the Elf in there is dining on our head chef's cooking, Benedict?" the man replied sharply. "She should be in a cage. You know that the Natural Races are scum. You know they only wish to exterminate us." "That's not true," he replied angrily. "That's not true. They just don't understand." "You would do well to remember your place, Benedict," the man said harshly. "We saved you from the Fae. You would do well to be grateful and remember whose side you're on. The Magyck will be funnelled into the castle and I will decide what to do with it. Not some faerie whose own kind rejected him."
He fell silent again before the conversation became too low for her to hear. After about five minutes, he returned. His hair was ruffled as he ran his hand through it in frustration and he closed the door behind him, his expression irritated.
His face softened as he looked at her, and he tilted his head, his hands dropping to his side. "Just fine. Are you alright? How was the food?"
She stood up, her body language unsure but seemed to be a little concerned. "It was great. I'm okay."
