7/24/2026 Author Note: Chapter 19 is updated.

7/21/2026 Author Note: I've updated the first part of the chapter and refined it more to show Ena's pain. I hope it is elevated more.

PoV:

1. Ena (Our Elf Lady!)

Rosen Flame Index

Previous Chapter

[Hours Earlier]

Heart in a frenzy, Ena took Malik’s coin pouch. It was filled with a fortune that surpassed her bank’s entire on-site currency.

How did it turn out like this? 

The hero she’d seen in her dreams for two years, someone she’d waited to be reunited with and continue where they’d left off… The first thing she did with that hero was become his banker?

A lizard… A damn lizard…

She shooed him off with Rose, curses filling her thoughts as she maintained her excited mask. Ena stood in the hallway and waved.

They were going on a breakfast date, something she wanted more than anything, and at her favorite place.

These stupid lies and games I played in my heart…

Malik gave her a strained, thankful grin that made her want to box his ears before jumping out of the window. She was his crutch, not his heart.

“Thanks again, Ena.”

“Of course.”

“I know it must be hard springing this on you out of the blue. We’ll be back at two.”

He turned his back on her, his stressed voice cutting at her heart.

And I thought I’d be the one to burn this bridge…

I suppose my true colors… These antique elven ways can’t escape the brush of fate.

Ena’s ears drooped the second he looked away. Her jaw locked so as not to blurt out the confusing, sharp, and spiteful words tearing up her heart.

She wanted to scream at the blissful dragon.

Yet here she was, silent, watching the lizard’s elated tail swaying without a care in the world from beside Ena’s hero.

Unable to hold back as they turned the corner, Ena mumbled, “Crib robber.”

It would have been lobbed at her had she opened up about her feelings.

That was beside the point.

There he goes… 

I’m so stupid. 

Yes, Malik, just introduce me to your pretty little rose that makes me bleed.

She justified it by telling herself their brush of fate would never work.

What humans called ‘flings’ didn’t exist amongst wood elves. 

Though her heart wouldn’t accept that for some reason, no matter what she told herself. 

And now, Rose taunted her with the idea that he’d live longer. 

It was cruel.

Fate was cruel.

Ena went to the stone balcony, stilling her trembling fingers on the railing as she saw the perfect, beautiful dragon snatch his hand without hesitation and leave with a smile. 

Malik didn’t even resist it. 

Why would he? 

And for a second time, Ena watched the tall, black-haired hero walk away from her.

Everything she’d been taught back home echoed through her mind.

So why wouldn’t it reach her heart?

All her parents’ warnings, the elders’ advice, it all slid off of her as if waxed in butter… 

Hopeful, helpless, buttery desire.

The elation upon seeing Malik again had opened a box she’d half-hoped had long closed. She’d buried her love with broken hands, but it still clawed from underneath the grave moment his eyes met hers. Only for her to see a stunning, perfect pink-haired girl holding his hand.

Something she’d never done.

He shows up out of nowhere with a goddess dragon… 

What was I expecting? He’s on a quest…

That’s just like him. A quest. 

But this isn’t just a quest…

A tear fell down her cheek, and she brushed it away.

Looking up at the ceiling, she cursed

Damn you, Titania.

Comfortably in pain, she slipped her heart back into the box it had been tugged out of.

But the damn lid wouldn’t slide on this time.

Her hopeful, elven-cultured heart was in a lagoon, separated from the sea, and too deep for Malik to recognize signs he had no reason to discover in the first place.

How can he always slip into girls’ lives at the right time, make us feel special…only to strike with a dagger at our hearts? 

Titania… 

All his words, the way he said it, the look in those powerful emerald eyes…

How he asked for my help… 

Something only I can do.

Patience… Serenity.

She moved to the office door beside hers, fooling herself into being happily insane. 

Breathing out a solemn sigh, she rapped her knuckles against the door.

Diantha, a gossip lover, would have lingered after hearing about the incident from the witnesses. The dark-haired human woman in her early forties opened it with an innocent face.

“Yes? Oh, are you okay, Ms. Ena… Your hair?”

“I will freshen up. Thank you for your concern,” she said with a mask she’d learned through years of dealing with dishonest humans. “Call the management staff to the downstairs conference room when they arrive. We have a very busy day.”

“I’ll…call them,” she whispered.

She could see the dark desire in her eyes; she wanted to press the topic but was also scared since she hadn’t seen Ena so disorganized before, no doubt.

Her shining brown eyes were alive with fantasies.

Ena had to redirect those at all costs.

She had to give them a different story than her behavior suggested upon meeting a soon-to-be-known lord. For his sake. For the barony’s sake. As the town’s central hub for daily financial transactions, this place was where most rumors spread.

“Also, send a notice to Lord Luca and Lady Isadora that Lord Malik Silverwing—a powerful hero and Adventurer—is looking to purchase this barony. And, yes, it is a dragonborn princess that is with him. I will discuss it further in the meeting.”

“A dragonborn princess—b-buy the barony?!” the woman whispered. “Wow! No wonder you’re frazzled. Umm. Our town?! Umm, yes, yes! I’ll get everyone together right away!”

She rushed out, leaving Ena to enter her own office and close the door. 

Sucking in her bottom lip, she flipped the lock and went to a cabinet.

Opening it, she looked at her own reflection in the medium-sized mirror fixed to the door.

Outlined in guilt, her portrait stared.

It fractured in her mind into a gallery, where her walls lay bare.

Beautiful, pure moments with him reflected in each.

And suddenly her hazel eyes began to water. 

She’d been so proud of these eyes while growing up; hazel was rare among wood elves.

…Not so infrequent in humans.

My eyes? Common. 

Rose’s are sky-blue… Beautiful. 

Glowing sky-blue orbs of sapphires. 

Unique.

Ena’s throat constricted, and her thoughts returned to the annoyed fidgets the dragon made to her gorgeous, thick pink hair.

Yet again, unique and vibrant. 

Ena’s fingers found her messy, somewhat thick, brown hair and pressed it down.

It was nothing special compared to the standard wood elf: brown was the most prevalent color.

Boring. 

A boring, brown-haired banker elf.

Wood elves were taller and more lanky than most humans.

She was just shy of 6 feet.

Most human men liked shorter women. 

Her hand balled into a fist to hide the double-edged sword of playing a string instrument.

Awkwardly tall… Not curvy enough, and calluses…rough hands…

Her ears were nothing remarkable back home, but here they drew attention. 

Rose’s would make most wood elves faint at their perfect dimensions.

She wasn’t even an elf. 

Ena untied her banker's top, peeling it back to examine the light scars left by her 97 years of life. Rose didn’t have a blemish, stretch mark, wrinkle, or a single imperfection.

I’m a masterpiece… 

A masterpiece of mistakes.

How is it fair when she can tweak and change her appearance with a thought? 

How can anyone compete…

A tear slid down her cheek before she was able to breathe and brush it away. 

Fixing her hair and uniform, she tried to swallow her unboxed emotions; it was working until her gaze fixated on the guitar in the corner of the room, resting beside her beloved cello.

It’s not sorrow… 

It’s not!

I’m seething.

Malik had hauled around the bulky instrument when he’d offered to take her to some Dungeons to show her how to level efficiently. She cherished those memories… It was where she’d realized she loved him. 

Ena knew he was just blowing off steam at the time.

She wasn’t anything special.

But her songs did make him smile. 

He’d even let her teach him a few elven dances, not that he was good at it, but it gave her an excuse to touch him. It was cute, connecting even, to see he did struggle in some places.

Rose probably can’t sing or dance, right? she asked herself.

She moved to pull the guitar up. 

Malik wanted me to learn an easier instrument… 

Only for me to choose only a slightly better candidate in a guitar case to drag around… 

Why didn’t he resist her more? 

Why come to me? It’s not fair.

Her fingers plucked at the strings, activating a Bard spell.

She whispered a few verses to a song she’d written over the course of the last two years… A song she’d written in the hope of seeing Malik again.

The song was practically useless in actual combat, but a spell she used often enough. She’d practiced the guitar on the beach and thought about their time together while creating this piece:

“Bard’s Song: Area Silence.

“When I’m washed up on the shore

“And you’re traveling through

“My heart is a crustacean

“Could you come and crack it open?

“Before the tide takes you from me…”

A 6-foot-wide dome appeared around her as she sang, not even her voice heard within it. 

All sound died.

And Ena swung the guitar around to smash it against the tile, sending fragments scattering across the floor and rug as she screamed into the void.

Eight years! 

It hurt. 

Human customs hurt. 

Human perception hurt. 

Human expectations hurt. 

Her parents were right. She was in her nineties, and sure, intellectually, she had knowledge—she knew things—but that didn’t mean her heart aged the same. 

How could Rose, a goddess who lived eons, be so open and oblivious? 

She was ignorant!

Human courtship was like the blink of an eye. She’d tried to explore human love in the first six years. She knew the differences when she left her home.

She knew.

But it was something else to experience. 

She couldn’t believe humans wouldn’t wait five years—five measly years—to let her slowly open up enough to hold hands, much less ten, or, Titania forbid, the customary fifteen for wood elves back home.

Breathing heavily, the sound barrier lifted, and she held the neck of her broken guitar, arms quivering. Then, her bottom lip trembled, and more tears bubbled up.

Why did I do that? I’d never do that… 

What is happening to me? 

She choked back the tears, chest puffing up before easing out her confusing frustration.

Ena’s puffy face lifted to see the picture she’d drawn of Malik in the cabinet.

How can you apologize and put the tears back in my eyes…

When I can’t even confess these sins?

She rubbed her cheeks free, chest fluttering, and got up.

Ena set the broken instrument on her desk and grabbed a rag.

She dipped it inside a small jug of water and dabbed at her cheeks, trying to calm the hiccups. But she couldn’t stop cursing.

Pink clawed fingernails clawed at the walls of her heart.

It took everything she had not to break down again.

Her success in those efforts was debatable.

Just learn to scream without sound.

If I can do that… I’ll be fine.

I’ll be fine.

Chapter Nineteen: I Will Protect His Heart!

Ena numbly stared at the broken instrument. Instruments were expensive.

She had memories she’d made with that guitar over the last two years. 

So, why had she done that? 

Fighting the suffocating feelings strangling her, she moved to the window to block it out of her mind. Not that it worked.

She stared down at the townsfolk, going about their early-morning business.

These romance-obsessed human women and men would rush into things in days to months. So why take the time to help her be comfortable when there was an iron-a-dozen willing to jump right into a relationship? 

She, who was considered forward and rushing into things back home, was impossible to romance among humans. Too fast for wood elves, too slow for humans. 

What was she supposed to do? 

Malik was different, though. He made it so easy.

He didn’t rush into things like all the other men, obsessed with the singular point of her being an elf; it didn’t help that the women, jealous of the attention she received, would turn most men she talked to against her.

Malik hadn’t had a relationship before. 

He didn’t even seem to seek one, but, as he’d said in one conversation she’d overheard: if it happens, it happens. 

That resonated with her.

He appeared to have a similar guarded heart as wood elves, careful not to rush into something that could cause deep scars for centuries. Plus, his knowledge, as a reincarnate, surpassed hers in some areas. 

Yet, she’d learned so much more about how humans went about courtship in her eight years. It frightened her; something she told her parents would never happen.

Then she met Malik.

A hero.

One of the strongest mortals on the planet. 

Personally chosen by Titania herself.

He’d talked to her like she were any normal human girl. Not a fetish or overly-sensitive elf. She was a friend. And somehow, as that continued, she thought she might have felt a little of what it was like for human women and their heated rush to jump into relationships. 

Suddenly, she had hopes of meeting him again.

She had dreams of holding his hand.

That had never happened to her.

Now, Malik was holding the hand of a perfect dragon goddess…

Someone he didn’t even love! 

No, he was in trouble. 

It wasn’t only Rose’s fault, either.

Dammit, Ena! she yelled in her mind. Pull your shit together! 

There’s too much to do to make this work… I have to be patient. 

Malik has defended and saved this world for a decade… 

Arms crossed, she glared down at the street, emotions settling down. 

Who is there to save him now that he needs it? 

Someone has to do something about Rose…

If Rose wanted a challenge, at least in this mortal emotional world, then she’d give the goddess a challenge. Rose would not force herself onto Malik.

She wouldn’t get the chance to compel him into bed if she broke her soul-pact. 

A dragon goddess was far too smart to do it so easily, though. 

Naive to mortal ways, she may be, but stupid, she was not.

Ena cupped her chin, mind spinning with everything she’d learned about courtship.

Rose was a terror beyond words, possibly knowing more about the universe than the entire elf race as a collective. Yet, in this arena, the dragon was a child.

That dangerous challenge was why she’d accepted the task of living as a human woman in the first place.

Moving to check herself in the mirror one last time, Ena made a few more corrections.

She was ready.

Ena unlocked the door and strode toward the conference room. 

She took one short stop at the janitorial office, poking her head through the doorway with her pleasant mask back in place.

“Ondat, can you do me a favor?”

The elderly dwarf man lifted his gray eyebrows. 

“Always, Ms. Long Ears. Uh, have ya heard anythin’…odd from the gossip-gang? Somethin’ about that dragonborn princess being with a new lord out of the far east?”

Far east, hmm? I can work with that.

“Ondat, I thought you abhorred the gossip that travels through here,” she pointed out, and for good reason.

“Aye, I do, but ol’ Ondat ain’t stupid either,” he grumpily grunted. 

“I saw the blasted door was blown clean off on my way in. Good. Hinges were a joke. I’ve been warnin’ ya lot fer years. An’ it be best ’ta keep ’ta yerself, an’ all, but a bleedin’ dragonborn—much less a drekin’ princess of the flamin’ lot…”

He gave her a deeply troubled stare.

“It brings trouble, Ms. Ena. All I’m sayin’.”

Ena nodded without hesitation.

“I’m right beside you there. But not much we can do about it. Right?”

“There… Aye, ya got a point,” he sighed. “Anywho, what can this ol’ dwarf do for a young elf lass like yerself?”

On point as usual, Ena internally chimed.

“I’ll keep your opinion in mind. As for my task, I broke my guitar in my office. I would clean it up myself, but I’m a little swamped, and I need my office and the private conference room spotless for Lord Luca and Lady Isadora’s arrival at two.”

“Ah-huh.” Ondat worked around his jaw.

He obviously knew something wasn’t right if she was breaking instruments. Fortunately, the dwarves were a fairly tight-lipped and discerning race. One reason why she hired him when he’d rolled into town.

“I’ll see ‘er done. Now be off ’ta yer meetin’s. I’m here for ya if ya need anyin’ else.”

“You’re amazing. Thank you!”

He bustled over to get some supplies to get to work, and she proceeded to the gossip cartel of Emisberg. If she was going to sell this, then she had to lay it on heavy and leverage many of Malik’s stories he’d told her.

Malik Tasnia was a staple in almost any community.

Ten years of endless service and good deeds had elevated him to legendary status. However, because of that, many other heroes’ tales were left unsung by Bards—like herself—when he was nearby.

So, Malik Silverwing, someone who shares the same name as the legend, would be easy to sell. That also included the undeniable fact that he is accompanied by a princess dragonborn. Well, undeniable as far as gossip was concerned.

True or not, it didn’t matter for the most part in a small town. 

She could push almost anything. 

If she then sprinkled in a few tantalizing romantic details, she had a whole backstory to put all eyes on Rose. She’d have expectations to fulfill.

Malik and Rose would need help in this new lordship.

Neither of them knew how to handle ethical slave laws, a town, finances, or hundreds of other specialized fields of a noble. 

Her presence would be required. 

She would have to be close enough to aid them.

She would be close enough to free Malik from Rose’s grip.

It didn’t take long for her to put the ideas into the gossiping group’s minds; in a medium-sized port town like this, gossip was the highest form of entertainment. 

Typically, she kept to herself, but it paid to pay attention to the right voices.

Leaving the meeting in a buzz, she took an early lunch and let the birds spread their song. 

They’d spin it more and more each time it was passed to a new set of ears. 

How would Rose react to being spoken about by the town? 

She was already under contract to not harm them.

Malik laid out a perfect trap for Ena to set.

He was so much more competent than he often thought.

Traveling through the streets, she took the back alley shortcuts to reach the other person to blame for this fiasco. Ena wore a scowl while the beastkin runaways kept their distance, and she tapped on the door until the Cleric of the shrine opened up.

“Good morning, Ms. Ena,” Tabia greeted.

Her ears fell back upon seeing the look on her face. 

“Is something wrong? Come in…”

Ena shook her head and took the invitation. 

“I’ll only be a minute. Sorry for the interruption.” 

Moving to the glowing, sanctified tree, she knelt in front of it and shot a venomous glare at the lustrous bark as she began her silent communication with the Greater Goddess.

I don’t know what plot you’ve cooked up for Malik. 

I’m sure you have your reasons for putting him up to this…

But I won’t let Rose have her way!

Malik deserves better.

Getting up, she moved to leave.

“Leaving already, Ms. Ena?”

Showing the lovely and wonderfully generous Panthera woman a thankful smile, Ena made a tilted cross pattern over her left breast in her Tribe’s sign of thanks. 

“I have delivered my message. Have a blessed day, Shine Maiden Tabia.”

She returned the gesture. 

“Hmm. Delivered your message? I see. I am sure The High Lady has heard your heart.”

A wry smile dropped Ena’s gaze to the cobblestone street outside as she hesitated in the doorway. 

“That…is sort of what I’m afraid of. Good day.”

Tabia wore a troubled expression as she closed the door and returned to her job.

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