Elinia stood in front of me, arms crossed over her chest.

  Her eyes were calm—but sharp.

  As if she could see everything I was hiding.

  “So why are the elves writing to you?” she repeated quietly.

  I froze for a second.

  Then… I started improvising.

  “There’s…,” I said carefully, “a shop near my house.”

  “With elven goods.”

  “I… sold them a book. And they… liked it.”

  “They asked for more. I wrote a couple… they bought them.”

  It was the first story that came to mind.

  Elinia raised an eyebrow.

  “A shop. On the outskirts.”

  “Buying your books right there.”

  “Let’s assume that.”

  She stepped closer.

  “Then why does this ‘shopkeeper’

  send you state-level messages?”

  “With a letter about my brother speaking to them?”

  “And with the king’s reply?”

  I felt everything inside me turn cold.

  “Uh… maybe they… sent it to the wrong address?”

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  Elinia narrowed her eyes.

  “Right.”

  “Wrong address.”

  “And they accidentally sent the private correspondence

  of the Forest King—

  through every possible coincidence—

  to you.”

  Idiot.

  That was what I thought of myself.

  She waited.

  The silence made the conversation almost unbearable.

  I exhaled. And started telling… a second story.

  “Alright.”

  “Sometimes… they ask me for advice.”

  “Not magical.”

  “Just… human.”

  “They need help.”

  She listened.

  Her face was calm.

  But her gaze was far too attentive.

  “That story,” she said,

  “is much closer to the truth.”

  She sat down on the edge of my bed.

  I walked over to the desk and picked up the communication orb.

  It was still glowing—the message not fully read.

  I placed my palm on it, and the text unfolded:

  “Negotiations with the Prince were successful.

  The statement was accepted.

  We were heard.

  We are not hiding.

  The royal response has been received.

  We await your opinion.

  Geography and biology are important.

  But sending them by mail is dangerous.

  Through the orb—it’s impossible.

  We are thinking about what to do.”

  My heart skipped a beat.

  They really were moving forward…

  I typed a reply:

  “I’m glad for you.

  The books are ready.

  But I don’t know how to transfer them safely.

  Not through the orb—too much data.

  Mail is dangerous.”

  The message was sent.

  Only then did I turn around.

  Elinia was looking at me.

  Seriously.

  Quietly.

  Without anger—but with something deeper.

  “So…”

  “You’ve been hiding… all of this?”

  I wanted to say, No.

  But all that came out was:

  “…”

  She stood up. Slowly.

  Took a step toward me.

  “You said you knew nothing about the elves.”

  “That you’d never seen them.”

  “That everything was a coincidence.”

  I stayed silent.

  She stopped one step away.

  “Zen…”

  “When were you planning to tell the truth?”

  Her voice was calm.

  But inside it—there was a storm.

  And now, I had to answer.