My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World
Chapter 747 - 747 On Thin Ice

747 On Thin Ice

Today I learned that Matriarchs, or maybe just Adalia specifically, have really, really nice feet.

And I mean that in the most non-promiscuous, genuine way possible. Please, believe me. I’m not a salivating sucker for finely toned ankles or anything.

But, hey, I could be.

I rented each of us a pair of ice-skates, and such is the grief of having knives for fingers, Adalia couldn’t put hers on without a little bit of help, or actually a lot of help.

So I helped.

I sat her down on a nearby rock, kneeling myself forward in front of her like a cloaked prince getting ready to fit on some glass slippers and promptly got to work.

That was when, in the most respectful way possible, I couldn’t help but admire the sight of her bare feet.

They were quite small, smaller than any I’ve ever seen before, and her skin was practically spotless, smooth, like I was holding gray porcelain, only much softer… much more tender to the touch.

It made me extremely wary of what I was doing, as if with just enough pressure, I might actually wind up hurting her.

.....

I didn’t know what it was about the whole thing, but I really wasn’t in any hurry to get it over with either way.

Kneeling like this, holding her like… this. There was just a pleasurable quality to it I couldn’t quite place.

God—why am I describing feet? I swear, this better not have awoken something in me.

Left skate was fitted proper so I promptly moved on to her right foot, starting the whole process of crisscrossing laces all over again, accompanied by the lively ambiance of hollering ice-gliders sounding right behind me.

“I’ve never… done this before…” Adalia said, her voice whispering with the faintest trace of intrigue. “This… ice…skating…”

I could feel her gaze looming over me at the top of my head, which wasn’t really helping my focus. Just what was wrong with my focus, you ask? Kindly see above.

“Neither have I,” I said, almost finishing up with the final row of thin ropes. “But I don’t think it’d be too hard to pick up.”

“You… can’t teach… me…?”

“Yeah, maybe once the ice has melted away,” I glanced up at her. “Not nervous, are you?”

“Ner…vous…” She looked on ahead, pondering on the scene of the many blurring, whizzing figures in front of her briefly. “No…”

“That’s my Matriarch.”

I stood back up, feeling the swelling relief coursing through the joints in my knees, and held my hand out to her, slowly lifting her. As slow and as steady as I could make it, I began carefully trekking us through the thick snow, inch by inch, leaving narrow lines in the coated earth, entering into nature’s skating rink.

“No friction on ice, watch me carefully,” I muttered in caution, treading myself first onto the frozen ice. “Gonna wanna keep your center of balance steady, body up, don’t lean too heavy in one direction, then with your legs, just slowly drag forward, and—!”

My tips and tricks routine was then rudely interrupted by a blur of everything as every single part of my body began to flail all at the same exact time. Before I even realized it, I was waging a war with gravity itself, desperately trying in vain to defy its inevitability.

But as a wise man once said: You can’t fight gravity.

I was lifted, weightless, for the briefest instant. Then there was a crack, something ached, and I suddenly was replaceing myself staring at my own dumbfounded expression in the frosty ice.

Some people were staring, a couple of kids laughing, sliding, seamless as they effortlessly glided past me. Adalia remained in place standing by the bank of the lake, and for once, I was glad I couldn’t read her expression.

“Slip…Slippery, like I said,” carefully, I tried to clamber to my feet, arms quivering outstretched. “You’re gonna want to, uh… be careful when you… okay, this is harder than I thought!”

Unfounded confidence had me landing ass-first flat onto the ice once again, and every time I attempted to regain my composure, I just kept drifting and falling further onto the lake. I fell enough to the point I’m surprised the ice hadn’t cracked yet. Though that might change any second now…

How the hell do people do this?!

“Drag…” I heard the quietest whisper amidst the whoops and hollers of the crowd. “Like… this…?”

In a spinning world of confusion and pain, my eyes managed to spot, focus, on a bright blue silhouette, the flutter of gray-silver, slowly coming closer and closer.

I blinked.

Adalia was skating across the ice. No quiver, not the slightest imbalance to her graceful figure. It was almost like she was flying, how effortless she made it all seem.

I was instantly snapped back into sense, my lips agape, feeling the gust of wind blow across my face as she skidded to a stop, me on my knees, and her misty stare looming over me once more.

“You were… right…” She said. “This isn’t… hard… at all…”

Okay, now she’s just making fun of me, isn’t she? Add salt to the wound, no mercy for the poor throbbing, aching me.

And it hit me then. Like, of course, it made sense. This is the same girl I witnessed streaking across walls and ceilings, spin and twist as many times as she wanted in the time it takes for me to hit the ground—why the hell did I ever think she’d have any problems keeping her balance?

It’s like trying to teach a fish how to swim, and in this case… Adalia was pretty much in her element.

Eager to stop embarrassing myself, I tried again to stand back up—sixth time’s the charm—and similarly to fifth, fourth, and every other time, I wound up flapping my arms everywhere like a baby bird trying to fly with no grasp of what direction ‘up’ was in.

But then right before my chin could become a makeshift chisel slamming into the ice, I felt my momentum come to a sudden stop. I was no longer falling, flailing. My arms suspended, held, with a cold, sharp pressure pressing lightly into the fabric of my sleeves.

Suddenly, Adalia was close to me.

Very close.

“Hold… on…” She told me, her grip leaving my arms, receding to my wrists, before slowly fastening her hands around mine. “Hold me… tightly…”

Then, inch by inch, I could feel the both of us begin to drift. At once, I was wobbling again, the muscles in my legs panicking from the lack of solid footing.

Even more than before, I leaned myself further into her trying to maintain my balance, and she stood firm, unwavering… holding onto me almost reassuringly.

“Slip…Slippery…” I said again, feeling a bit flustered by my utter helplessness. “I’ll, uh… I’ll get the hang of this soon enough.”

“Take… your time…” She whispered, continuing to lead as I continued to lean. “For now… just keep… holding me…”

And so, I did, closely following her every move, pushing as she pulled, turning as she swerved, floating almost buoyantly across the arid, cold air. We skied by other skaters, their laughter and chatter breezing us by in a flickering instant, and before I knew it, we were halfway past where we first started.

“It’s… like swimming…” Adalia suddenly remarked, her dreamy gaze veering slowly to our intertwined fingers. “Remem…ber…?”

“Now that you mention it,” I smiled, recalling a familiar scene of rippling tides and splashing water. “Except, I guess that makes you the teacher in this case.”

We kept drifting along, and gradually, I felt my weight ease away from her, my balancing steadying as I kept in close sync with the movement of her feet. In time, I was steadily becoming accustomed. I wasn’t teetering as much, panicking even less. And instead of being glided by her, slowly I felt more as if I was gliding with her.

Almost like a dance. Weaving weightless, fluid, whirling with her at the slightest touch, the slightest thought. Wordlessly knowing each other’s every action.

Sure enough, Adalia took notice of my drastic improvement.

“Should I… let go of you… now…?” She asked, cocking her eyes at me. “Swim… skate… on your… own?”

I was confident enough that in the event I no longer had her to fall back on, I’d probably do just fine. In fact, I was sure of it. I could take my hands off and soar just as easily.

But holding her now, gliding with her here, the sway of my cloak, the flutter of her hair, flowing as one in the breeze. All the noises, all the people, simply fading away immersed so deeply in her embrace. I didn’t want to lose that.

Huh, it really does feel like a ballroom dance.

“A bit more,” I said, creeping closer again. “Don’t let go just yet.”

And probably seeing, sensing, knowing my real intentions, Adalia stared at me, and straightening her gaze, simply nodded her head.

She tightened her grip.

“Okay…” She whispered, and began leaning herself onto me, just as I had before. “Take… your time…”