"It has everything with being who I am." Ian started,
"You mean that you caused it?"
He said, releasing her from the hug, looking and feeling very apologetic. He got back on his chair but still held onto her.
"Why would you do that?! I- I don’t even understand what you did to me for me to experience something as awful as that. What would I have done if you were not here? Would I have starved?"
"I can’t help it, and it’s just who I am..." his helplessness was obvious, but it did not mean that it made her feel any better.
"OK, Ian, can you explain it to me so that I can better understand whatever it is that you did?"
"Actually, it’s good you brought it up. Let me tell you some peculiarities and what to be wary of us Faes. Since you are life-time bound to one, this may be important information."
It’s not like she had a choice in any of what was going on, but she was very interested in what Ian had to say.
"To start with, you have done many things that would have gone against you if you had actually met a Fae who wanted to do you real harm. First, you told me your full name,"
"... and how is that a bad thing? We introduce ourselves all the time."
"I know, Shelby, but humans are not mythical beings who are tricksters. Telling me your full name gave me absolute power over you..."
"I don’t think I like where this is going...." She muttered, frowning.
Ian applied a little reassuring pressure on her hand as if to tell her that it was okay.
"In contrast, I gave you my name too, and that showed my sincerity, for it gave you equal power over me..."
"I don’t understand what this having power over another does, but please go on."
He chuckled and kissed the back of her hand, making her feel temporally giddy.
"Remember, to never give out your name when asked by any Fair folk. I mean it, Shelby!"
Shelby nodded absentmindedly, not really sure what that meant, and he continued.
"The Faes or fair folk are very peculiar in many ways, and not much is known about them here in the human realm. I could hardly find much about them, but you should be careful in expressing your gratitude to one."
"When you say, ’thank you’ to us, it implies that you are held in debt to us... and that was the second thing you did wrong, as you are now indebted to me..."
"I am?" She asked, pointing to herself.
"But I didn’t ask for it! I am even suffering from that. Why do you say that I am indebted to you from that?"
He signed and waited for his words to sink in.
"Just by saying ’thank you’? Aren’t you being weird?"
"Hahhahahaaaaaa....."
"Well, I don’t like to be in anyone’s debt, so I’ll repay your ’debt’ now."
"How are you going to do that when you have nothing to your name?" He teased.
"Give me a blank paper and a pencil..."
Currey appeared out of nowhere with the requested materials, startling Shelby.
She tried to compose her emotions and took her hand from Ian’s.
Shelby sat back and looked around a bit, spotting a bookshelf. She got up and picked out a hardcover. She focused diligently, placing the paper on the book and scribbling on it. Ian watched her in fascination.
About twenty minutes later, she got up and nodded in satisfaction, then handed the paper to Ian, feeling pleased with herself.
"A portrait of myself?"
"It’s one of its kind in this world! Making it unique and priceless!" Shelby said proudly.
"Hahahahahahahaaaaaa!!!!"
Ian laughed so much that his sides hurt.
She had covered all her bases, and the painting, even though only in pencil, was truly magnificent!
"You are really talented."
"Thanks. But now that I have paid off my debt, I can relax and ask my question again."
Ian’s laughter died off, and he became very stern.
"The last thing to know is that, ’Don’t ever take food offered by a Fae’!"
"How will I even know that the person is a Fae? I did not recognize you as one. It’s not like you people go around announcing what you are."
"That is why Murray is with you. But to be on the safer side, try not to accept food from anyone! It is even better now that you are not able to taste food from anyone-"
"Can this be reversed?"
"Shelby, I need you to understand that the effects on the human land are not that much, but if, for some case, you ever find yourself on the land of the Fae, never ever take in any food offered..."
"You’re scaring me, Ian." She said, looking at how gloomy his face was.
"But I really can’t? You mean I can never ever eat food made by Ava again? That thought scares me! But why are you telling me all of this? It’s not like I know where the Fae land is..."
"It’s always better to know some of these..." he whispered to himself not even understanding why he was telling her all those.
"You’re life-bound. It’s never too late to know more about your husband and his people..."
"It’s even better that way. That is why I said that I will take care of you..." a tricky smile played on his lips, mostly obscured by his beard.
".... If you compensate or bribe me enough, I might try to search more to find a way around it for you, but no guarantees!"
Shelby’s shoulders slumped, "You did this on purpose, right?"
"It wasn’t. You are the only person I have ever prepared a meal for in my life!"
Boom! ’Did I hear that right?’ It sounded so surreal because when Ian had initially offered her the meal, it had seemed like something that he did often, maybe before he had locked himself up. But she couldn’t help but ask.
"What? Are you being serious?"
What Shelby wanted to really ask was, ’You never cooked for Aliya?’ But she did not want to mess up the mood.
He nodded but volunteered no other information.
The place became quiet as none of them said anything. Ian fiddled with the portrait, staring at it deep in thought. Looking at the portrait, it felt as if he was staring at himself through a greyscale mirror of a sort; he felt a smile spread out.
"Why did you never continue your education after high school?" His voice interrupted the silence.
She got dragged back to reality. She had actually been thinking of how to ’bribe him’ to help with her food dilemma when he asked that question.
’There is no need to hide information from him as he already knows.’
"James, my stepfather, never sponsored my education after middle school. I worked through high school... but never got into any tertiary institution. I felt that – it was not worth it."
"You really did not get into any tertiary institution?" he asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously,
"You really do catch on fast, don’t you, Ian? James prevented me from going out or, more accurately, continuing my education after high school with the excuse that a young girl should stay home and help out..."
"...and your mother?" Ian asked more forcefully than he would have wanted, but she was stuck in her mind’s eyes as if relieving those times and had not noticed.
"Mum, will always be herself." She sighed heavily,
"Mum does not have much say since it’s not her money. So whatever James says goes."
Ian wished he had not asked. The information had been somewhat glaring from the retrieved data, but hearing it was different. He decided to take a different approach and ask about something else more livelier.
"Who was your art teacher? Your talent here is unbelievable!"
"My drawings are self-taught. I have always loved drawing since childhood. I do it to relieve my stress. I guess I got better with time."
’She didn’t just get better. She was amazing!’ Ian continued examining the details in the portrait that had seemingly been put together within a very short time.
She smiled brightly at him.
"I also volunteered at the T-Vino Orphanage in my spare time after I was done with my house chores."
Ian nodded and reached out to touch her hair briefly. He gave her his full attention as she talked through things that she did back in her old home and, especially in this orphanage.
"Did you like doing that?"
The light came back into her eyes, and her smile broadened.
"Yes! I did! Madam Ruby is the best at taking care of the orphanage; she..."
Ian let her talk and talk for a long time without interrupting her. Her voice was melodious to him and gave him stability that he had not found in a while. Never once did his attention divert. They talked long into the day uninterrupted in that cold room.
The next morning, in the central wing and the dining room, Geneva walked leisurely with her husband, discussing their itinerary for the day. She had received an unexpected call the night before and thought long and hard about it throughout that time.
"You won’t believe who reached out to me last night, Alex, it -"
Geneva stopped talking, her face as pale as a sheet as she stared blankly in front. She opened her mouth and closed it, but nothing came out.
"What is it, dear?" Alex asked, also turning.
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