In the elevator, Anna was twiddling with her fingers. A nervous habit. Her new self-proclaimed bestfriend noticed it.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Just... nervous about meeting new people."
It was a half-truth. It was about meeting new rich powerful people. Meliea was to Dryads what Dracula was to Vampires.
"Don't be. I got your back," she showed her tiny biceps, making Anna smile a little.
When the elevator door opened, the smell of earth and sweet blossoms hit them stronger than before. There were even more people gathered around than before, but the center of attention had shifted.
Instead of the elf, it was the Meliea who had waved at her. His long brown hair was flowing and he was telling a story that made all of the nature-kin laugh.
Lyra pushed Anna to get closer to the crowd listening to him.
"That's Caelan Meliea," the fae whispered into her ear.
He saw Anna. Then a small smile formed on his face.
"So I told the tree, that's a very nice bark you have there and it blushed," Caelan finished his story, earning another round of laughter. The crowd seemed to have relaxed and was dispersing.
The Fae waved to Caelan, her small wings buzzing.
"Hey!"
Caelan smiled at her. Then his attention went right back to Anna as if Lyra wasn't even there.
"Please sit down. I'd love to talk to a fellow dryad. Not many here this year," he gestured to the seat across from him.
His brown eyes were focused on her, so intense that it felt like he was trying to read the very grain of her skin.
His elf friend, who he'd been talking to earlier, rolled his eyes, clearly put out by this sudden shift in attention.
Anna and Lyra were sitting across from them.
"So you're from Revera City? I've heard it's beautiful this time of year," Caelan said, leaning back. The air around him smelled like fresh, fertile earth after a morning rain.
"It's fine," Anna managed, smiling nervously.
The elf, Holten, sighed.
"Isn't that the city of that... Larduca?" he asked, and he made the last name sound like something disgusting he'd found on the bottom of his boot.
Caelan raised his eyebrows, "It sounds familiar. Was that the Kraken slave?"
Anna's blood went cold. Her face hardened.
Holten burst into laugher, "Slave is too nice a word. More like a jester. There's absolutely no way he even has mana. The poor mermaid probably hired an actor to play husband for the status," he was waving his hands like he was telling the most amazing story.
The dryad chuckled, "Hey 1000th in line to the throne is still better than not being a Kraken."
The two of them were laughing while Anna was grinding her teeth.
Lyra finally chimed in, "I don't know. I think it's sweet that she loves him."
The two males turned to her. Their smiles vanished.
"Oh please don't tell me you believe they actually love each other?" the elf said condescendingly to the fae.
"He's not even a Dracula. He's nothing," Caelan dismissed her with a flick of his wrist as if she were an annoying insect.
"What do you think Anna? You're from the same city, you must know him."
Her chest throbbed. They were insulting the person she loved. A boy who had risked his life for hers.
Ryker was far from perfect, but he wasn't nothing.
She stood up, the wooden chair scraping against the floor with an unnerving shriek that silenced their laughter.
"Ryker is not nothing."
"And he's certainly not a jester."
She couldn't believe the words coming out of her mouth but she meant every one.
The words came out clearer, stronger than she'd anticipated, created by a righteous anger that burned away the last of her nervousness.
"He risked his life to save me, more than once," her blue eyes were cold, her jaw set. "He is a hundred times the man either of you will ever be."
She finished her sentence, feeling an exhilirating surge of confidence.
"And talking down about another person to feel better about yourselves just shows how truly weak you are. You might have the family name but that's it."
She stared right into the arrogant dryad's eyes. She then gestured to her friend whose mouth was slacking, practically falling off.
"Lyra, let's go."
Without a word, her Fae friend fluttered into the air and followed the furious dryad.
"Wait," Caelan said.
Anna turned.
A strange, curious glimmer replaced the previous arrogance in the Meliea's eyes, an unsettlingly keen interest.
"I'd like to apologize. What you said had a... thorny sort of truth to it," his smile was disarming. For a second, he seemed almost charming.
"Obviously you care about him and I made a terrible judgment," he admitted, letting out a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of ancient forests. He ran a hand through his long, chestnut-brown hair, the motion effortlessly graceful.
His hand glowed green and nature magic spread around it, a rose growing from thin air. Grabbing the rose, making sure the thorn was placed on his forearm, he pricked himself.
Everyone's eyes widened, an incredulous stare at the man, who had given her the most sacred apology a Dryad could offer.
"As I said. My mistake," He held out the rose with his blood. It was a tradition as ancient as the trees themselves. A peace offering.
The fragrance of the rose hit her, but she was too dazed by what just happened to enjoy it.
"You said he risked his life for you. That's more impressive than any title or magic rank," his gaze softened.
"I'd love to meet him someday properly. As a person, not as a piece of gossip,"
He paused, "My name is Caelan Meliea."
Offering his hand and the rose, Anna hesitated for a second. Her own anger cooling, a strange sort of equilibrium settling in. The apology was so sincere and dramatic it caught her off guard. But a new feeling fluttered in her heart. The feeling of being taller, bigger and stronger than someone. A part of her craved more.
Shaking his hand she said, "Okay I accept your apology, Caelan."
Her acceptance made him flash a warm, genuine smile.