Chapter 13

Elanor

The next minutes go in a blur as we follow servants through the palace, and my interest is piqued by something new at every turn. The corridors blend together in an ocean of velvet drapes, luxurious furniture, and artwork. Each corner of the palace is a different shade of dark blue, teal, green, or black, and a full display of its long history.

We go up several stairways, and when we finally stop, I’m completely lost. The human girl showing us to our rooms opens a door, stepping aside to let me in.

“Your bags have already arrived.”

A four-poster bed awaits me inside, covered in pillows and sheer curtains. Massive wardrobes line one wall, and two leather chairs face each other below the stained-glass window. The entire room is a variation of obsidian and dark grey, just like the rest of the palace, with layered rugs, gold moldings, and a crystal chandelier bringing soft light to the room.

The washroom adjacent to the bedroom has a clawfoot bathtub and copper accents on the vanity handles. A mirror with a carved wooden frame occupies the entire wall. The room is dimly lit, with only a small window.

After peaking through the door separating the two rooms, I turn and find Milan patiently waiting. I’m completely out of my element. We both are, though he manages to keep a straight face while my mouth is on the floor.

“What the hell is this place?”

Small wrinkles form in the corner of his dark eyes as a smile tugs his lips.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. I don’t know what I expected, but this is a lot.”

“Welcome to the world of Fae politics,” he says with a sigh.

“Thank you for coming with me. We’re both a long way from home.”

He nods. “I won’t leave your side. I’ll make sure my room is beside yours, and two guards will be stationed outside your door at all times.”

My shoulders sag the moment he leaves the room, and I let out a slow breath.

Savage appears in the corner of my eye, his comforting presence giving me the strength to go on. I’ve survived the most ruthless battles, and this is no different. I will adapt and play the role of the perfect ambassador until I find out where Azran is. Granted, putting on a show has never been my strong suit, but I have no choice.

I don’t usually bother with appearances and the games that come with being close to politics, and now, I’ve been dumped in the middle of them. A snort tears from my throat at the irony.

Well, at least King Airdan seems welcoming. All that’s left to see is how far his kindness extends when I start probing and looking for Az. One hour at a time, then.

I snatch the book I brought with me from my bag and hide it under the mattress.

A knock sounds on the door, startling me, and I quickly sit on the bed. The door creaks open and the petite girl I saw earlier slips in, swimming in an oversized cotton dress with a white apron tied around her slender waist. Her shoulders hunch inward, making her appear even smaller, as her wide brown eyes dart around the ornate room nervously. She clasps her hands before her, revealing fingernails ragged from hours of scrubbing.

“My lady, my name is Jaida.” She bows quickly. “I’m here to help you unpack your bag and get settled.”

She looks as old as me, but the slump in her shoulders and anxious energy radiating from her make the girl seem younger.

“Thank you,” I say with a smile.

She points to a gold rope hanging from the ceiling by the entrance. “Should you need anything, you can ring for me at any time.”

I nod and she begins putting my clothes away in the wardrobes.

Moments later, another servant walks in carrying a platter of food and refreshment. An older man, given the wrinkles on his marked face. Without a word, he puts everything down on a low table by the window seats and goes to stand in a corner.

I wait several seconds, but he remains perfectly still.

I guess I won’t have much alone time, after all.

Unable to resist the delicious aroma in the room, I move to one of the leather chairs facing the table and pick up a slice of bread. Still warm from the oven, the coarse grain crumbs melt on my tongue. I close my eyes and savor the yeasty taste before reaching for a hunk of creamy cheese. The sharp flavor complements the bread perfectly. Juices drips down my chin as I bite into a ripe peach, the sweetness bursting across my palette. I haven’t had fresh food in days and this is hitting the spot. With every bite, I feel strength and optimism return to my body.

My appetite vanishes when I uncover a folded note tucked under a plate. My pulse quickens with dread even before reading the message. Could it be from Az? I force a dry, difficult swallow as I open it.

The King is inviting me to join him after lunch. A pit opens in my stomach as guilt seeps in and reminds me I’m not here to enjoy my visit and sample the local food.

I quickly freshen up and change into a black day dress, still unsettled by the absence of Nahtar on my back.

As I’m led downstairs by the old servant, the size of the palace really dawns on me. I need to start memorizing the way and mentally mapping this place.

After an incalculable number of turns and stairs, I return to the immense throne room, although this time it’s just me. Allowing myself to study the painted ceiling more thoroughly, I don’t hear King Airdan enter.

“What do you think?”

His voice sounds so close to my ears, I almost jump out of my skin as he walks around me.

“Beautiful.” I quickly recover and put a polite smile on my face. “Your Majesty.”

His eyes twinkle with amusement, making it clear he can see right through my inexperience in these courtly affairs.

“Let me give you a tour of my residence,” he declares with a grand, sweeping gesture that encompasses the whole room. Arms outstretched, he waves expansively as if to draw my eye to every ornate detail, from the intricate crown molding to the massive artwork covering the ceiling. “I know it can be intimidating at first, but I want to make sure you feel at home here.”

He extends his left arm towards me, and I hesitate for a second before entwining my arm with his. It’s not like I could tell the King of Zetrea to keep his hands to himself.

His warm palm covers my hand gently, securing it to his elbow as heat flushes my cheeks.

“After our walk, you’ll have to join me for dinner.” He motions towards the door with his head, a strand of hair dancing over his eyes as we start walking. “We have much to discuss and discover about each other.”

“Of course, your Majesty.”

As our steps echo, my heart is beating out of my chest and I hope he can’t fucking hear it.

“Grand,” King Airdan says.

My eyes are set on a point ahead of me, but I swear I can hear him smile.

“So tell me, how do you find Nyths so far?”

I remark on the splendor of the city, determined to be a good ambassador, and for a time I feel it’s going well. Commenting on superficial shit is not usually in my playbook, but I’m a quick learner. As it turns out, it requires little focus or intelligence, and it allows me to map out each turn we make.

Airdan tells me about the palace’s history and the colors of his house, representing his family’s heritage, showing off his charm in the process. I’m starting to see how he’s stayed King for so long. Diplomacy is second nature to him.

As we step onto a balcony, he releases my arm to let me wander and take in the view. The sun and the light breeze softly caress my skin as I study the city below. My eyes dart to the palace defense walls, and a chill runs through my spine.

“I’m sorry you had to ride past that dreadful scene at the gate.” Airdan walks up behind me. “This is not a common occurrence, as I don’t rejoice in such sights,” he adds with a heavy sigh. “I wish we didn’t have to resort to such extremes, but the people have to be protected from criminals.”

He extends his arm once more, and we resume our visit of the palace grounds. An hour later, we’re still wandering the corridors, indulging in polite conversation, though he doesn’t mention Azran once, confirming he never made it to the palace.

When I step into the dining room, I’m incredibly grateful for Rina and her assistance in packing my bag. For once, I feel adequately dressed in the black gown I’m wearing, its padded shoulders encrusted in crystals and long sleeves flowing behind me as I walk.

Lit by several chandeliers hanging from the arched ceiling, a massive table occupies the center of the room, its surface almost entirely covered by plates, cutlery, and candles. Three chairs have been arranged at the end, confirming it will only be me, Airdan, and his son.

Nylren is standing behind a chair, his back straight and arms crossed in front of him, while Airdan steps towards me.

“When I heard we were to receive a delegation from Lóna, I didn’t realize they would send their most exquisite and lethal jewel.”

The King’s eyes glint as they roam over me and I freeze, my heart racing as I try to decipher the look on his face. He can’t know about me. There is no way he knows about my powers and what I can do. I’ve been careful not to let anything slip about who I truly am.

“Your beauty could bring an army to its knees, if you were so inclined. It is a good thing you come in friendship, Elanor, otherwise I might fear for the safety of my heart.” His features soften in a smile and my shoulders relax. “Can I call you Elanor?”

“Of course, your Majesty.”

My name glides smoothly off his tongue, infused with a delight that sets me on edge. He makes it sounds like it’s the most delicious word ever pronounced.

A servant steps out of the shadows and pulls out a chair for me. Airdan sits first, followed by Nylren and me. Once we’re all seated, the King claps his hands and a procession of dishes is brought in by servants. Trays laden with meats are presented first, ribs roasted to perfection with crispy fat lining the edges, juicy cuts of steak seasoned with herbs, chicken baked in a creamy mushroom sauce, and slices of pork stuffed with apricots and nuts. Next come baskets of freshly baked bread, still steaming from the ovens, along with crocks of creamy butter. An array of pies and tarts follow, their flaky golden crusts bursting with fillings of meat, cheese, fruit or spiced vegetables.

I do my best to keep my mouth from opening at the sight of the lavish courses and the delicious aromas filling the air.

My plate is filled before I can even lift my fork, but I wait for the King to eat before trying some vegetables.

“Send my best to the High Lord, Elanor.”

A piece of carrot almost sticks in my throat when Airdan’s words reach my ears. Swallowing with difficulty, I put my fork down before answering.

“I will.” A painful ripple echoes down the bond, but I keep a straight face. “Azran wanted me to personally extend you an invitation to Averion so he can show you the best Lóna has to offer.”

Guilt floods my veins as the painful reminder of his absence rings in my heart. I should be out there, looking for him, not playing house with a King set on charming me with his words.

“I am most eager to visit your island.”

Finding my courage behind a polite smile, I join the dance.

“I hope I’ll have the time to explore your beautiful capital.” I prick a piece of meat pie with my fork. “I only got a glance on our way here, but I would love to sample everything the city has to offer.”

“But of course, my dear. There will be plenty of time for that.”

I muster another cultivated smile as I lift the fork to my mouth.

Nylren, seated in front of me, hasn’t said a word yet, so I turn to him.

“Your Highness, I wanted to thank you for your welcome earlier today.”

Lifting his head from his full plate, the Prince gives me a tight smile and a nod that I return.

“As you can see, I’m the chatty one in the family,” Airdan adds with a chuckle. He locks eyes with his son for a mere second, but long enough to reveal his gaze has lost its usual warmth.

A hint of pity flares inside me. I can only imagine what it must have been like growing up in the shadow of Airdan, the charismatic King of all Fae and humans in Zetrea, whose name commands respect and allegiance in all corners of the world.