I opened my mouth to protest but stopped before anything came out.
I’d never agreed to be her soulmate or party member or whatever this was, but looking at her—the proud princess now fidgeting nervously with her pajama hem, her pointed ears pink at the tips, her lower lip caught between her teeth—I couldn’t say it.
I’d sound like an asshole. And honestly, she was criminally cute, so it was hard to be upset about being the object of her affection, even with a bizarre interdimensional destiny I didn’t sign up for attached.
With a sigh of resignation, I moved to sit beside her. Immediately, Elsa repositioned herself sideways across my lap.
Her legs stretched along the couch, her back against the armrest. She picked up the controller and unpaused the game, resuming as if our entire conversation hadn’t happened.
After hesitating, I wrapped an arm loosely around her waist to keep her steady. She leaned against my chest and giggled softly.
"This pleases me," she whispered. Her attention stayed fixed on the screen as her character leapt across platforms. "My mother, the queen, would faint dead away if she could see me now, sitting in the lap of a male like some common tavern wench."
"Is that something tavern wenches typically do in your world?" I asked, unable to resist teasing her.
Elsa shrugged. The movement caused her to shift in a way both innocuous and torturous. "I wouldn’t know. Princesses aren’t allowed in taverns. I’ve only read about such scandalous behavior in forbidden romance scrolls that I most certainly did not hide under my phoenix feather mattress between Proper Royal Etiquette and One Thousand Ways to Brew Tea."
I chuckled. The vibration made Elsa wiggle again as she adjusted her position.
I sucked in a breath, wondering if she was doing this on purpose. Given what I’d just learned, I figured she was. The cozy, innocent princess act was exactly that: an act.
"So," I said, trying to distract myself from her warmth against me, "this whole fated mate thing. How does that work exactly?"
"Oh no," Elsa replied. Her attention never left the game. "We’ve resumed the ruse, remember? I’m just an innocent elven princess who happens to enjoy sitting in your lap for completely non-romantic reasons. Perhaps it improves my Super Plumber Cousin prowess. Perhaps it’s a sacred elven tradition. Who can say for certain?"
"Right," I said dryly. "Silly me. And here I thought it might have something to do with you calling me your ’fated mate’ about two minutes ago."
"I said no such thing," she declared primly. "You must have misheard. Elven maidens would never speak so boldly about matters of the heart and loins."
"Uh-huh."
We sat in comfortable silence for a while. The only sounds came from the game and Elsa’s occasional triumphant exclamations or frustrated curses in what I assumed was elven.
It felt strangely domestic, sitting with her nestled against me, her small body fitting perfectly in my lap, her blonde hair tickling my chin whenever she moved her head.
"You’re learning quickly," I commented as she successfully navigated a particularly tricky section with what looked like cannonballs on chains trying to take a bite out of her.
"I excel at all things I attempt," Elsa replied haughtily as her noble pride surfaced once again. Then she immediately fell into a pit, losing her last life. "CURSE YOUR LINEAGE TO THE SEVENTH GENERATION, FOUL GAME!" she shouted at the top of her lungs.
I laughed. This earned me an elbow in the ribs sharp enough to qualify as a lethal weapon.
"It’s not funny," she pouted. "This game is obviously rigged against overly refined elven reflexes. Our reaction time is too perfect for your primitive human technology to process."
"Sure it is," I agreed, still chuckling. "Certainly nothing to do with you trying to jump onto platforms that don’t exist."
Elsa twisted in my lap to face me. Her expression turned indignant. "Are you mocking your princess?"
"I wouldn’t dream of it." I gave an exaggerated head bow. "I value my life too much. But, I mean, you’re not my princess, per se."
She narrowed her gaze as she smirked. "On the contrary, I most certainly am yours." The playful glint in her eyes tempted me to do something about the bratty look on her face. "And you are a terrible liar, Grey Coleman. You were mocking me."
"Because you’re terrible at this game," I countered.
Elsa gasped in pretend outrage. Her hand flew to her chest. "How dare you! I’ll have you know I’ve made it to the third level, which is undoubtedly an impressive feat for a novice."
"Undoubtedly," I agreed solemnly. "Truly your gaming prowess will be sung about for generations."
She glared at me for a moment before a mischievous smile spread across her face.
Without warning, she shifted in my lap, turning to face the TV properly and scooting back between my legs, her back mashing against my chest.
"Perhaps I need a more competent teacher," she suggested. Her voice sounded innocent but her intentions clearly weren’t.
My hands automatically went to her shoulders to steady her.
Her body felt warm against mine, and her hair smelled sweet, like she’d just bathed, but I didn’t think she figured the shower out yet.
"I thought we were maintaining the ruse," I said. My voice wavered as I tried to keep up.
"Oh, we are," Elsa assured me in a tone that sounded suspiciously saccharine. "This is merely a more effective learning posture. I can see the screen better this way, and you can guide my hands on the controller."
"Is that so?" I asked, arching a brow skeptically.
"Absolutely." She nodded and reached for my hands, pulling them around her to wrap my arms around her waist. "It’s a traditional elven teaching method. Completely non-romantic in nature."
"Of course it is," I said, not believing a word of it but not particularly motivated to argue.
Having her nestled against me felt comfortable in a way I hadn’t experienced in a long time—maybe ever.
I knew I should probably set her aside, establish boundaries, remind her of our conversation about the effect she had on Grey II.
But the way she leaned back against me, relaxed and trusting, made it impossible to push her away.
Besides, we’d already acknowledged the attraction between us. And if I was supposedly her "fated mate" or whatever, maybe this was just how things were meant to unfold.
"Fine," I conceded with a grunt. "But the controller’s over there." I nodded toward where she’d dropped it on the cushion beside us.
"Oh, is it?" Elsa asked with exaggerated surprise. "How careless of me. I shall retrieve it immediately."
To be clear, she made absolutely no move to do so.
Instead, she settled more comfortably against me. Her head rested against my shoulder.
I could feel her heartbeat through her back, slightly faster than normal, and wondered if she was as affected by our closeness as I was.
"We should probably get back to the game," I suggested. My arms remained firmly around her waist, all talk, no action.
"Mmm, definitely. In a moment," she murmured. "I’m quite comfortable. Besides, heroes need rest between quests."
I smirked down at the back of her head, though she couldn’t see it. "What happened to the innocent princess act?"
Elsa’s laugh sounded soft and warm. "Even a princess gets tired of pretending."
She turned her head slightly. Her cheek rested against my collarbone, her breath warm against my neck.
I closed my eyes, enjoying the closeness and the simple pleasure of holding someone who wanted to be held by me.
It was strange how quickly I’d adjusted to her presence.
Just two days ago, I’d been a solitary lawsuit winner hiding from the world, hunting monsters in my cornfield and wondering if I’d made the right choice moving to the middle of nowhere.
Now I sat on my couch with an elven princess in my arms, destined to be her "champion" in some epic battle twenty years in the future—against a guy named Black Lazarus, no less.
Not sure why he had to be black.
Somehow, though, it felt right. Being with her—not the black bad guy thing.
Being with Elsa, holding her—it was like finding a puzzle piece I didn’t know I was missing.
"Grey?" Elsa’s voice sounded small, lacking its standard imperious tone, almost vulnerable.
"Hmm?"
"I’m glad the portal brought me to you," she said softly. "Even if it was too early."
I tightened my arms around her, pulling her closer. "Yeah," I agreed. "Me too."
We stayed like that for a while, neither speaking, neither feeling the need to.
Outside, the sun was setting. Orange and pink rays leaped through the window.
I could see the cornfield where I’d fought the troll just the night before, where Elsa had first appeared in my life.
Whatever this strange new reality was, I was starting to think I could get used to it.