"Then I believe it would be safe to assume that if he has feelings for you, he isn't afraid of it," Sedriil concluded, steadying the basket of brinefruit that they had placed close to the landing beside the cavern's exit.
"Well, Aldrec is sweet, and he doesn't seem to be intimidated by his fellow elves if they do give us the eye treatment; I've no doubt about that," Mericlou mused; now not bothering to hide the red glow upon her face. "As a matter of fact, there's this … confidence about him, almost like nothing can worry him, or it would have to be a major catastrophe in order to even faze him. I don't see that even in other elves."
She sighed pleasurably. "It's because of that quality that I find being around him so comforting. Even with you and the rest of the family, I don't feel quite that way."
She heard Sedriil chuckle.
"What?" She said, as if Sedriil had known something she did not and was dangling it in front of her nose, playing a mean-spirited game of keep-away.
"I don't know what objective logic would dictate," Sedriil said, stifling more of his gentle laughter, "but my logic dictates that you have it for him badly."
"Oh, you!" Mericlou keened in mock exasperation. She stormed into the exit hallway. "You're not helping much!"
"Logic sometimes doesn't help," Sedriil said, following after her. "It simply is."
"This coming from someone who once claimed that he had a premonition?" Mericlou quipped. She turned and flashed her brother a playful grin.
Sedriil paused on the tunnel's upward slant. And then he spoke in a most unexpectedly serious tone.
"I stand by my words of a year ago. I still believe that you should take this carefully, sister."
"I will," Mericlou replied, equally sincere.
***
"Good day, milady!" Aldrec said cheerfully to the elf maiden at the flower shop.
"Good day to you." The maiden's response was curt, even rude.
"Is … something wrong?" Aldrec asked, curious, and very much taken aback at her change in demeanor.
"No," she said. She did not once look up from her newspaper.
"Milady, you're being rude," he said in a discreet whisper. "That is very unbecoming."
"What's more unbecoming is your preference in … women," She replied, not the least bit abashed by his words.
"What are you talking about?"