Chapter 18

B eing locked up gives you a lot of time to think. In fact, that's the only thing I can do besides stare out the window at the ocean. I'd done exactly that until the sun had set and I couldn't see any longer. The kind guard, who I've since learned is called Kaelir, returned with food, a blanket, and clothes for me last night. He even tried to make conversation with me for a bit, but it was just awkward, and he eventually made his excuses and left.

Reaching for the blanket, I pull it around my shoulders. I don't know what's going to happen now, I'm not even sure what the time is, but the sun is high in the sky so I'm assuming it's around midday. I spent a lot of time thinking about Vaeril, Tor, and Grayson, and the link I have with the three of them. I miss them, each for different reasons. I miss Grayson for the safety he offers and his encouragement and endless possibilities for my future. I don't know Tor well yet, but he brings out a part of me I didn't know I had, the strong side of myself that's been buried under years of slavery and beatings. Vaeril, he offers me adventure and growth, pushing me to become the person he knows I can be.

Wilson, Jacob, Aileen, and Jayne enter my thoughts too. I'm sad I had to leave them, but I'm sure they're safer without me there.

Light enters the hallway as the door opens, slamming shut behind whoever just entered. As the sound of booted feet comes closer, I stand, making my way to the bars. Kaelir comes into view and I try not to let my disappointment show as he walks up to my cell. I'm pleased to see a friendly face, but I've been waiting to see Vaeril. He should have healed by now, so why isn't he here?

"Any news?" I ask hopefully, as he gives me a half smile, which only drops at my question.

"I've not heard anything. I'm sorry," he replies with a small shake of his head. An awkward silence spreads between us until I point at the bowl he's carrying.

"What's in the bowl?" I inquire lightly, and I can't help but smile at his relieved expression at the change of topic. I don't know if he truly doesn't know, or if he's keeping something from me, but I know that, either way, he's not going to tell me anything.

"I've brought you some food." He passes me the bowl through the bars, and I take it gratefully.

"Thank you," I say with a small smile as he turns to leave.

I focus on the bowl, removing the lid and making my way to the bench. Porridge. At this point, I'm just grateful to have something warm and filling, not to mention something to do besides think.

The door to the courtyard suddenly opens, bathing the corridor in light again as I hear a set of hurried footsteps.

"You shouldn't be here—" Kaelir barks, but whatever he was going to say is cut off, and I hear an ‘oomph' and the sound of someone slamming into something hard.

"Get out of my way," a low voice orders, and Kaelir must do as he's told as the angry steps start up again.

Whoever this person is, they have a lot of rage, and I'm pretty sure they're heading towards my cell. Putting down my porridge with a sigh, I stand up and brush down my skirts as I take a couple of steps forward.

Someone appears at my cell door, and for a second, I just blink. He's beautiful, but every part of him is practically vibrating with fury. All of the elves are tall, but he seems even taller, and his shoulders, chest, and arms are thick and muscled. He's bronzed, and his golden hair falls to his shoulders. It's not braided like Vaeril likes to wear his, but more like a mane of untamed, wavy locks. His eyes are the same golden colour as his hair, and he reminds me of a picture I once saw of a lion. He's beautiful, but he looks brutal and cruel as his expression twists, a long scar slicing from his forehead to chin on the right side of his face. Whatever happened, he's lucky that it missed his eye.

He narrows his golden gaze on me, running it over me from head to toe.

"You," he growls, strolling up to the bars that separate us. "You're the human who saved Vaeril? His Alina?"

My heart thuds in my chest. No one else knows that Vaeril calls me Alina, meaning he must be awake. I want to rush up to the bars and demand to know how he is, but this asshole would be expecting something like that, and I fully doubt he would tell me anything anyway. I can see that I'm going to have to get used to people using my race as a slur. Anger awakens in me, and I saunter up to the bars, close enough that if he wanted to, he could reach through and snap my neck, but I don't think that's why he's here.

"Clarissa," Kaelir calls, but I hold up my hand and shake my head. I need to deal with this myself, since this won't be the last elf to challenge me like this.

"I'm okay, Kaelir," I assure him with a smile before returning my attention to the elf still scowling at me. "Was that a question or a statement?"

"I see you've got someone else wrapped around your little finger. How did you do it?" he growls, looking me up and down again, making me feel naked, but I simply cross my arms and watch him right back. "Did you fuck him, Alina?" Anger stirs within me at his words, but I know that's exactly what he wants. I'm not sure where the blushing Clarissa has gone. "Why don't you show me what you've got?" he purrs, his hands tightening on the bars.

"No, thanks, I'd prefer to stare at the wall," I reply dryly.

"What, not pretty enough for you, is it my scar?" he coos, like he was expecting the rejection, but I see a flash of vulnerability in his eyes at the mention of his scar.

"Your scar is the only real thing about you," I retort, meaning every word of it. His scar doesn't bother me, but his attitude does. "No, I find arrogance ugly, it doesn't suit you."

"How?" he suddenly questions, his whole demeanour changing in a second, giving me whiplash as he flips from flirtatious to demanding.

"How what?" I ask, confused. I don't think he's still talking about his looks... No, this is about something else.

"How did you help him escape?" He slams his hands against the bars, and I have to fight against the urge to jump back, to put some distance between myself and this feral creature. "We've been searching for him for a hundred years. Then out of the blue, a tiny human woman turns up on our lands with one of our strongest warriors," he snarls, before breaking away from the bars and pacing the small space in front of my cell. "We thought he was dead." I can hear the pain in his voice, and I realise he must be a friend of Vaeril's.

"It's not my place to say," I respond quietly, but this must not be the answer he wants as he spins around and locks his eyes on me, striding up to the cell again.

"Tell me," he growls, and any sympathy I had for him disappears in an instant.

Narrowing my eyes on him, I shake my head, wondering if this guy bullies everyone or if he saves that just for humans. "It's not my story to tell."

"Then tell me about you. How did you end up helping him?" He tries a different angle, starting to lose his patience with me.

"No. You've not earned the right to my story." Snorting, I shake my head again. I know once he's gone, I'll wonder where this attitude and strength to stand up to an elf has come from, but right now, I embrace it.

"Human," he snarls.

"Elf," I snarl right back.

His hands tighten around the bars, and the sound of crushing metal fills the room. When he moves them, they are bent and twisted. There is magic around the door, so they are still intact, but somehow, he managed to bend them out of shape. I want to marvel at his strength, but instead, I raise an eyebrow.

"Is that your party trick? Is it my turn now?"

He watches me with narrowed eyes, but I know he wants to see what I'm talking about. Walking up to the lock on the door, I reach out, praying to the Mother that my ability to break spells still works here. I'll probably regret this, but my anger is in control right now. As soon as I touch the lock, my mark glows and the draining sensation fills me. It pulls at me, trying to lull me into giving too much energy, but just as I feel my legs start to tremble, the lock makes a clicking noise, and as I step back, the door swings open.

His expression is still that cocky male one from before, but I see a flash of surprise in his eyes that he quickly tries to hide. Suddenly, he's a blur as he spins to face Kaelir. "Did you know she could do this?"

"No, sir, I sensed no magic on her. I didn't know she was a mage." His voice is firm, but I can see the slight tremble in his arms. Who is this guy who can scare a queen's guard? I'm about to snap at him to be nice to Kaelir when he shakes his head, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"She's not a magician," he responds softly, but it's more like he's talking to himself rather than the guard. His eyes run over me again, landing on my wrist where my mark dwells. A strange look passes over his face before he straightens and turns to Kaelir again. "Tell no one about this, especially not the queen."

Why wouldn't he want the queen to know? She is his ruler, wouldn't she be the first person he would want to tell? I muse, a frown pulling at my brow. Should I tell him the queen has already seen my mark?

"Yes, sir!" Kaelir replies, but the elf has already turned back to me.

"Don't leave that cell, and don't show that power to anyone else unless you want to be killed," he orders, running his gaze over me one last time before spinning on his heel and striding towards the door.

Kaelir and I stay silent until light fills the hall, followed by the slamming of the door behind him until we both let loose a relieved breath.

"Who was that arrogant ass?" I query, evoking a startled laugh from the guard. Now that the elf has gone, I suddenly feel deflated, all my energy used up on breaking the spell on the door. Slowly, I make my way to the bench at the back of my cell, groaning as I sit down.

"That was Lord Eldrin. He was one of Lord Vaeril's most trusted companions. They travelled and fought together," the guard explains, looking at my open cell door in confusion.

"Is he always so pleasant?" I pick up the now cold porridge I abandoned, frowning at the solid mass it's become. Great, not only does he offend me, he's caused me to miss out on breakfast.

"I've actually never heard him speak before. It's usually his brother who does the talking."

His words make me freeze as something connects in my mind, and I remember a conversation I had with Vaeril days ago. "Brother? Oh no." I groan, burying my face in my hands. "They don't happen to be twins, do they?"

"Yes, Lord Eldrin and Lord Elnaril are twins," he responds. "Are you okay?" he asks, after a couple of seconds when I don't raise my head.

I groan loudly. Of course this is how I meet one of Vaeril's best friends. Locked up in prison while he's potentially dying somewhere in the castle. Great first impression.

"Have you been able to open the lock on the door this whole time?" Kaelir questions, sounding both amused and a little wounded. Lifting my head, I give him an apologetic look before leaning back against the wall, exhaustion settling over me.

"Yes, but I meant what I told you yesterday, I won't cause any problems," I promise, closing my eyes as I take this moment to rest. I didn't sleep well last night, what with worrying about Vaeril, being locked up, and the uncomfortable bench. Not to mention the strange noises coming from the cells farther down the corridor.

"You really are different than what I expected."

Opening my eyes, I see the guard watching me with a shake of his head. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Oh, good, I was imagining sharp fangs and uncontrollable anger. The way the queen talks about humans is…" He trails off, realising he probably shouldn't be telling me this. "Anyway, I'll get you something else to eat."

"Thank you!" I call, as he pulls the cell door closed once again, shaking his head when it doesn't immediately lock before turning away and making his way to the exit.

As soon as he leaves, the last of my remaining energy deserts me, making me slump against the wall behind me. I just want to curl up and sleep off the draining effects of breaking the spell. It was stupid, I shouldn't have let him goad me into opening the lock, but he just wound me up in a way that brought out a different part of me, and I wanted to wipe that look off his face. I know I'm going to have to get used to the elves judging me because I'm human, but something about the way he said it just...bugged me.

If the queen talks about humans in the way Kaelir said, then no wonder they don't like me. Centuries of hate doesn't just disappear overnight. I think back to what my kind guard mentioned, and how surprised he had been that I wasn't anything like queen said. Elier, my guard who brought me to Galandell, had also been kind once he realised I wasn't going to try and escape or hurt any of them.

With a groan, I summon up the last of my energy to lay down on the bench, pulling up my legs as I turn on my side.

Must... stay awake... in case...news... about... Vaeril. My thoughts are becoming sluggish, and I know I'm going to fall asleep no matter how hard I struggle to stay awake. On the other hand, I would be useless to help him now... Maybe just a couple of minutes sleep...

"Clarissa!"

I jerk up when someone calls my name, already climbing to my feet before I even comprehend what I'm doing. Dizziness overtakes me, and I veer off to the side a little, my brain taking a couple of seconds to figure out where I am and what's happening. But that voice... I know that voice.

"Vaeril!" I call back, wincing at how needy and high it sounds. Leaning against the wall, I try to push away, taking a few steps closer towards the bars.

As soon as I respond, I hear fast footsteps hurrying my way.

"If she's been hurt in any way—" Vaeril's words echo through the long corridor, but even I can hear the threat in his growling voice.

"I promise you, Lord Vaeril, no one has laid a hand on her," Kaelir responds sternly, and I get the impression he's offended at the implication that something might happen to me on his watch.

"Vaeril, stop harassing my friend," I call out, just as he appears in front of my cell.

He freezes when he sees me standing there and looks me over, as if inspecting me for injuries. I could complain, but I'm doing the same. His colour is back now, his signature frown creasing his brow. The loose overshirts he had been wearing since we escaped didn't do him any justice, and I have to drag my eyes away from his form-fitting, deep blue jacket. Bronze embroidery depicts an intricate dragon on each shoulder, along with matching bronze buttons down the front of the jacket. His hair has been washed and part of it is braided like I'm used to seeing, but unlike usual, he has bronze threads woven into the braids.

"Are you okay?" I ask, breaking the silence that is growing between us.

Glancing over his shoulder, he looks at Kaelir. "Open the door."

Shifting awkwardly on his feet, the guard gestures towards me. "Sir, she—"

"I said, open the door!" Vaeril orders, cutting the other elf off before he can explain.

Striding forward, I grab the bars on the door and yank it open. A brief expression of surprise crosses his face, but just as soon it's open, he bursts through and sweeps me up into his arms. A huge weight that I hadn't realised I was carrying suddenly lifts from my shoulders as I wrap my arms around him. I don't know what this thing is between us, but right now, I don't care. I just need to feel him, to know he's okay. Burying his face in my hair, I just enjoy this moment, sure that as soon as he gets over his initial shock, he'll go back to being the cool, indifferent elf from before.

"Alina," he whispers, and he says it like I'm the most precious thing in his life. It awakens me, revitalises me. Pulling away from our embrace, he looks down at me, his eyes flicking over me again as if to check I'm okay. He opens his mouth to say something, but I place a hand on his chest to stop him, enjoying the texture of the rich fabric under my fingers.

"Did they heal you?" Logically, I know they must have, since he was in a magical coma the last time I saw him. He looks healthy, but I can still see a tightness on his face, so I know something must still be causing him pain.

"Yes, I'm fine," he replies, but his eyes are on my hand, which is still resting against his chest. Feeling my gaze on him, he looks up and meets my eyes with an assessing look. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, Kaelir looked after me. He kept me safe," I tell him with a smile, and over Vaeril's shoulder, I can see my favourite guard standing tall with a small, proud smile.

"In a prison cell," he growls, attempting to turn to face the guard, but I reach out and stop him. None of this is Kaelir's fault and I won't have him blamed for any of this.

"The queen ordered that. I don't think she likes me much." My smile turns wry as I remember the look on her face. If she had her way, I would be dead or spending the rest of my life locked up down here.

"She doesn't have to like you, but she has to respect who you are to me." As soon as the words leave his lips, he freezes, and panic enters his gaze. I stare at him with wide eyes.

Did he just say what I think he did?

"And who am I to you?" I press, trying to keep my voice light when all I want to do is shake him.

He looks uncomfortable and lifts his hand up to brush his hair. "Well," he starts, flustered. "You're my Alina, you helped me escape. You deserve respect," he explains, but I get the impression it's more than that. Plus, the way everyone keeps saying I'm his Alina makes it seem like it's something more than just a nickname.

"Right." I don't mean for it to sound sarcastic, but it comes out that way. "Respect is not what I sense from your queen. In fact, she wants me dead."

Placing both hands on my shoulders, he waits until I raise my eyes to meet his. "Clarissa, you will be safe here. I won't let her hurt you, and you will never be a slave again, I promise this." He says it with such certainty, the pull between us practically humming, that I want to believe him, I do, but my life has taught me that promises can be broken.

"You can't promise me that. What if I get taken by the humans—" My heart aches, torn between practicality and hope. Before Grayson, I never had that, it's something he taught me was okay, was right, but this seems like some sort of dream, a fantasy my brain has concocted to protect me from the trauma of being a slave.

"They won't lay a hand on you." His grip tightens on my shoulders. "If they want to get to you, they'll have to go through me."

It's poetic, and his pretty words make me smile, but we both know he can't promise that, he can't be with me all the time. Even if he could somehow stay with me always, there is nothing to say that he would be able to protect me. I've seen him fight, I know how strong he is, but if it was him against an army? If I was asked to choose between being a slave again to save his life, or to be free and watch him die, I know what I would do.

That thought strikes a bell within me. Taking a small step backwards to put some space between us, I clasp one of his hands from my shoulder, holding it. He looks from our joined hands and back to my face, his frown deepening.

"Vaeril, I won't be a slave again." I take a deep breath, watching his face darken. We hadn't discussed this before when we were escaping, but it's something that has been growing inside me, and I know it would destroy me to be a slave once more. "If they get me—"

"They won't," he interrupts angrily, his voice so deep now it's practically a growl as he closes the distance between us.

"But if they do, Vaeril, I want you to kill me," I demand, shaking him slightly, needing him to hear what I'm saying and not just blindly ignoring the fact that this could happen. "I won't go back to that life."

He falls silent, feeling the truth of my words. I feel a slight tug in my chest, and I know he's reaching for the connection between us. He nods, obviously finding what he was looking for. "Only if you promise the same to me."

I stare at him. Could I ever kill him if the situation was reversed? My first instinct is to say no, insist that I would find a way to get him back, but a smile devoid of humour spreads across his face and I realise how he felt when I ask that same question.

"Okay," I finally reply, even though my mind is screaming no.

We stare at each other for a couple more moments until Kaelir coughs awkwardly behind us, reminding us we have company.

"Let's get you out of here." Turning, he walks through the open door and holds out his hand to me. I place my hand in his, trying to ignore the feeling it produces, blaming the flipping of my stomach on hunger instead of Vaeril's touch.

Kaelir walks ahead of us, pretending not to listen as he opens the door to the courtyard for us. As we pass him, I look over my shoulder and smile at him, vowing that I will return to see him if I get the chance.

Closing my eyes for a second as we step outside, I enjoy the feeling of the sun on my skin, making me feel stronger already. I knew Vaeril would come find me and release me from the prison as soon as he was healed, but there was a part of me that feared I was too late, that the poison had spread too far.

"You really messed up my grand gesture, you know," Vaeril comments, and I open my eyes to peer at him. He's got a small smile turning up the corner of his lips, so I know whatever he's talking about, he's not mad at me. He leads me through the backyard of the castle, past the stables and busy workers I walked by on my journey into the dungeons. Reaching the gate, he releases my hand, gesturing for me to go through. Immediately, I miss the casual touch, and I don't miss the fact he crosses his arms over his chest to avoid touching me again.

"What do you mean?" I keep my tone light, hoping he doesn't notice the hitch in my voice or feel my disappointment through our link.

"You unlocked your cell!" His smile is bigger now, but I can feel his eyes flickering over my face, as if trying to decide something. We walk along the side of the castle until we come to the circular paved area in front of the main palace entrance that overlooks the river. "I was going to storm in and force the guard to unlock you, to rescue you. But you had already rescued yourself and made a friend in the process," he says wryly, strolling over to the observation point that faces the water.

"Oh!" I laugh, following him, leaning against the fence as I take in the beauty of this kingdom. Thinking over what he just said, a thought comes to me. "Why didn't you just try to unlock it yourself?"

"Ah. The magic in the cells is tuned only to the guards, not even the queen can open one of those cells without a guard," he explains, but an uncomfortable feeling rises as he speaks.

As I stare out at the river winding its way towards us, and then disappearing underneath and out to join the ocean behind us, I try to work out the mass of feelings in my chest.

Why does his comment make me feel so uneasy?

A memory comes to me, of Eldrin watching me unlock the cell and ordering me not to let anyone know about that, especially the queen. Of the look on his face when he realised what I could do. Frowning, I reach out and place a hand on Vaeril's arm, telling him about my encounter with the surly elf.

Once I'm done, I almost wish I hadn't told him. His smile is long gone and replaced with a frown. "Yes, I heard you met one of the twins." Turning his back to the river, he leans against the fence and stares up at the castle. "I'm surprised it was Eldrin, though, since he's the quieter of the two. Elnaril is much more impulsive, and that sounds exactly like something he would do." His frown eases as he talks about his friends. I'd been worried he was mad I'd met his friend from his expression, but he's relaxing now. He looks lighter, his eyes brighter, and as he stares up at the castle, he looks different than the elf I knew.

"Tell me what you're thinking," I murmur softly.

"I never thought I'd see this place again." He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, basking in this moment, and my heart pounds painfully in my chest. To be separated from his home for so long, his friends and people…I may be separated from my friends and people, but I made a choice, and I have to live with that, Vaeril didn't get that option. "I never thought I'd get to see this place again," he repeats, opening his eyes that are full of unspoken torment as he turns them on me. "And that's all thanks to you."

I open my mouth, to say what, I don't know, but my stomach chooses that moment to grumble loudly and protest the lack of food. He laughs and the moment is lost as he starts walking towards the castle, gesturing for me to follow.

"Let's get you some food," he says, as he practically skips up the steps. I eye them wearily, starting a slow climb to join the amused elf. He's not smiling, but I can feel his delight through our link, and I shoot him a glare as I reach the top.

"I'll need to change first." I gesture at my torn and dirty dress, made no better from sleeping in a jail cell. Kaelir had brought me clothes to change into, but the idea that anyone could walk by and see me made me anxious, so I'd chosen to stay in my travel dress. "I can't go to a meal looking like this."

He runs his eyes over me slowly, only stopping when he meets my gaze. "You look beautiful." His voice has deepened, but not in the way it does when he's angry. No, this time it's husky and sensual.

"Oh." Dumbstruck, I just stare at him, a blush colouring my cheeks as I try to figure out what to say.

How do I reply to that? Tell him I thought the same exact thing when he walked into my cell earlier?

"Well, thank you, but I've not washed properly or changed my dress in a week," I respond, reverting back to practicalities in my nervousness.

Good move, Clarissa, just remind him how dirty you are . I groan internally at my complete lack of ability to flirt. Vaeril just smiles that half smile, his eyes twinkling with mischief, enjoying flustering me. Taking pity on me, he gestures for me to follow as he strides into the castle's large, arched entrance.

"Hmm. We'll just grab something from the kitchens and head back to my room to eat then."

I'm busily looking around the entrance hall, with its stunning white stone archways and mosaics on almost every wall. In the centre is a large, circular fountain with crystal clear liquid, so the sound of running water echoes around us. Walking straight to the fountain, I sit on the edge and look into the water, delighted to see the mosaic tiles lining the bottom. My attention is so caught on how beautiful and different it is from the castle in Arhaven, that I don't notice Vaeril has stopped walking, his whole body stiff with tension.

"Lord Vaeril," a regal voice calls out, and I turn to see the queen is walking towards us. Her eyes are practically eating Vaeril up, her desire for him so obvious I could choke on it. I want to roll my eyes, but I'm sure that would result in a one-way trip back to the dungeons. Standing from the fountain, I take the few steps to Vaeril's side.

She's just going to completely ignore that I'm here, like an unwanted pest.

As soon as I have the thought, her eyes flick to mine, her disgust obvious, that is, until she darts her attention back to Vaeril again, her serene expression returning.

"I see you found the human then." She manages to keep her expression blank as she says the word ‘human,' but I can see through her mask. I know her true feelings towards me, half of the guards witnessed it, but for some reason she's pretending otherwise in front of Vaeril.

"I told you, Your Majesty, she stays by my side," he replies politely, but firmly, bowing his head to her in a gesture of respect.

"I see." She hums, turning to address me. "Human—"

"Her name is Clarissa." I can hear the anger in Vaeril's voice, and even the queen looks shocked that he would interrupt her, but she simply brushes it off, returning her gaze to me.

"Clarissa, why don't you join me in the atrium for afternoon tea? I'm sure you're hungry after being locked up all night," she suggests lightly, patronisingly, with a tilt to her head that stirs the anger inside me.

I know she's trying to highlight our differences to Vaeril—that he had spent the night in the castle, and the grimy human was in the dungeons. I also get the impression that she ordered for me not to be fed from the cruel gleam in her eyes.

Pushing my anger aside, I simply smile at her, tilting my head in an imitation of her. "I was looked after very well, Your Majesty, they brought me regular meals."

Her expression darkens, and I worry Kaelir might get into trouble for feeding me, but before I can say anything, the look disappears.

"Well, I insist. We have lots to talk about." Waving her hands in dismissal of any protests, she begins to turn, sauntering back the way she came from. Her two ladies in waiting, who I hadn't even seen before, wait for her to pass before following behind her.

Glancing at Vaeril with wide eyes, I look to him for help. He's frowning again, but I don't know if it's from what just happened with the queen, or from him having to intervene for me.

"Your Majesty," he calls, and she immediately glances over her shoulder, smiling directly at him.

"Of course, you're welcome too, Lord Vaeril."

It's clear she expects us to follow her, and I realise she wants us for ‘afternoon tea' now. I'm grimy and uncomfortable, but I get the feeling that's exactly how she wants me to feel.

"May I be excused to wash up first?" I inquire, as we start to follow behind her.

The queen stops, and even I can hear her sigh before she turns around to face me. "Oh no, come as you are. You look…" She looks me up and down, and I know exactly what she thinks of my appearance. "Fine," she finally replies, not even bothering to try and hide her smirk.

"We would love to join you, Your Majesty," Vaeril tells her, to which she makes a pleased sound before turning to lead us to the atrium.

Why in the Holy Mother would he agree? I glare at him as he starts slowly walking behind the queen, hoping he can feel my frustration down our link.

Grimacing, he leans over, his mouth to my ear as he whispers, "Just go along with it. I will be there, you are safe." His breath tickles my ear, and I know he's trying to comfort me, but instead I become hyperaware of how close he is to me, the warmth from his skin against mine. As he pulls away, I see the heat in his eyes, and I know he's fully aware of how he's making me feel. We're playing a dangerous game, especially since we're just behind the queen who could order my death with a snap of her fingers.

The palace is huge, and I'm pretty sure my mouth is hanging open for most of the walk. I don't know what an atrium is, but I'm sure it will be just as beautiful. We finally reach a room with a roof made entirely of glass panels. Three of the walls are the same white stone as the rest of the palace, with carved columns depicting vines and tiled mosaic pictures of elves swimming in the ocean. The far wall is made entirely of glass and faces out over the cliff, straight to the sea. The river from the waterfall cascades off the edge and into the ocean below, the sound a dull roar. In the centre of the room is a low table full of plates of food and small, ceramic cups, surrounded by comfortable-looking chairs.

The queen goes immediately to the largest chair, the one that has its back almost pressed up against the wall. "Please sit," she instructs, as she straightens her skirts. At first, I thought she was wearing the same dress as the day before, but now that we are much closer, I can see the neckline is different, but still in that bright bronze colour.

Vaeril takes the seat to the right of the queen, receiving a smile from her. Choosing the remaining seat next to him, I examine the food on the table, my stomach making a loud gurgling sound again. Trying to hide my blush of embarrassment, I feel the queen's amusement as she watches me.

"Oh, please, help yourself," she mocks, obviously enjoying my discomfort.

Don't let her know she angers you. Eat the food, don't let it go to waste. She wants to think you are a gormless human, so let her think it, at least you won't go hungry , I think, looking at all the beautifully made food. There is no way she is planning on eating all of this, it's just for show. Mind made up, I plaster a smile on my face as I look up at the queen, reaching over for one of the small plates.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," I reply, as I start to load up my dish, making sure to try one of every item on the table.

"So, Clarissa…" I only just manage to stop my sigh as she speaks, putting emphasis on my name, and I know I won't be left to eat in peace. Lowering my plate so it rests on my lap, I wait for whatever she's going to ask me. "Vaeril tells me you were a slave. You were a criminal in your kingdom?"

Oh, he did, did he? I hope Vaeril can feel the glare and anger I'm pushing down the link between us. That is my story to tell, and like Eldrin, she hasn't earned that right. I look over at him now, his face is blank, but I can feel a twinge of discomfort from the link, and I know he received my feelings.

Turning my attention to the queen, I see she's been watching my interactions with Vaeril with interest.

"I was a slave from the age of eight, until recently when I was blessed. I don't remember my life before that." I only tell her the basics, partially because she doesn't need to be privy the rest, but also because I'm very limited with what I actually do know. Not that I want her knowing that.

Raising an eyebrow, she glances between me and Vaeril, who is reaching forward for one of the dainty ceramic cups. Raising the cup to his lips, he takes a small sip of the steaming liquid. A laugh bubbles up within me at seeing the strong, warrior elf daintily sipping from the tiny cup, so much so that I have to look away. A pulse of amusement reaches me through the connection, and I know he's doing it on purpose.

"You were recently released from slavery? I thought you were being punished, which was how you met Lord Vaeril."

"I was blessed." I reach across and instinctively cover my Goddess mark, but I know she sees the action, her eyes narrowing. "Our priests are corrupt, the only way I could receive my blessing was to continue working for them during the day. One of the high mages saved me." I don't know why I'm telling her this, she doesn't need to know about Grayson, but it's too late.

Leaning back in her chair, she considers me with a haughty expression as she chuckles. "Not only is she a slave, but she consorts with magicians too?" She ignores me as she speaks directly to Vaeril, trying to offend me, but I know Grayson, he's a good man and the queen can't make me think otherwise.

Almost as if thinking about him makes our link grow, I feel a tiny pull on it. No other feelings, just that little tug, and I want to close my eyes in relief and sink back in my chair, because it means he's still alive. Reaching for Tor's, I see it's brighter than Grayson's, and I get the responding pull almost immediately.

Vaeril's voice draws me out of my daydreaming, and I realise how stupid I'm being. I don't know why, but I get the feeling I don't want the queen knowing about my bonds. In fact, a sense of dread falls over me at the thought, so I know I'm right. She can't know.

"Your Majesty—" Vaeril protests, and I realise I must have missed something whilst I was looking at my connections with the guys.

"Your…blessing. You can do magic?" The queen cuts him off, leaning forward in her chair as she waits for my answer.

"No, I have no magic." My answer is quick and honest. I'm able to break magic, but I have none of my own. However, she didn't ask that question.

"You are different though. I can feel it." Her eyes go to my wrist again where I'm still covering my mark.

Vaeril coughs, pulling her attention to him, and he places a hand on top of hers which is resting on the chair arm. Looking down at their joined hands, the queen's face suddenly lights up, and I have to force away the feelings of jealousy that rises.

"We wish to explore the libraries, Your Majesty, I believe we will find answers there," he requests, maintaining eye contact, and I understand why when she shakes off his hand, leaning back in her chair.

"You want a human to have access to our sacred texts? Did the poison take your mind, Vaeril?"

She's not going to let us. I need to know more about myself, and Vaeril seems to think the answers are in the library. She needs to know I'm not a threat so she will let me in.

Clearing my throat, I wait until she looks at me with a withering glare. "I can't read, Your Majesty. Even if I wanted to steal your knowledge, I couldn't."

"You can't read." It's not a question, and I know from the smug way she says it that she thinks I'm just an uneducated, useless human. If that's going to get us the information we need, then she can think whatever she wants about me.

"She won't ever be there alone, Your Majesty. She will always have an elf with her," Vaeril informs her.

"Hmm," she hums, and she thinks it over. I know she wants to deny me access, but as her eyes flick over Vaeril again, she dips her head in agreement. "Very well, I will allow it."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," I say quietly, Vaeril dipping his head in thanks.

"Where will you be staying?" The question is such a change of topic that it takes me a few seconds to answer, the queen staring at me the whole time.

"I don't know—"

"She'll be staying with me." Vaeril cuts me off, not letting me finish what I was going to say. Both the queen and I turn to look at him in shock.

He wants me to stay with him, in his rooms?

"Out of the question. You think I would let a human stay in the rooms of our returning hero?"

Vaeril sets down his tiny cup and shifts in his chair so he's facing the queen, his face grave. "She had plenty of time to try and kill me while we escaped," he reasons, gesturing towards me. "She is the only reason I am here alive today. I would either be dead in the forest or still in captivity." Anger starts to lace his tone. "You should be thanking her rather than treating her like a second-class citizen."

Oh, that's not going to go down well. I wince when I see her face cloud with anger.

"Lord Vaeril, you forget yourself," she snaps, snarling at the elf. One of the ladies in waiting makes a small noise in the back of her throat, and the queen suddenly sits back, realising she lost her temper. With a quiet sigh, she brushes an imaginary piece of lint from her dress before looking up again. When she does, she's wearing the same serene mask from before. "I will let you off on this one occasion, considering the great ordeal you've been through, but I will not tolerate anyone berating me."

"Your Majesty—" He starts to protest, but she interrupts, her eyes narrowing on him.

"The human will be granted rooms on the same floor as yours. She shall be treated as a…guest, until I get evidence that says otherwise."

I don't miss the ‘until I get evidence' part of her comment. She's going to do everything in her power to find that ‘evidence.' I'll always need to be on my guard around her.

"Thank you." Vaeril bows his head again, and I copy his gesture, not wanting to earn her wrath by being seen as ‘ungrateful.'

She pushes up from her chair, her plate of food completely untouched. "Remain here as long as you wish. I suddenly feel unwell and am going to retire to my rooms."

Getting to his feet as well, Vaeril bows at the waist, raising her hand to his lips as he presses a kiss against it. "Of course, Your Majesty."

With his head bowed like that, Vaeril can't see the look she gives him, but I can. It's full of schemes and desire, and a warning tingle runs down my spine to the mark that sits in the small of my back. Feeling my gaze on her, the queen lifts her head and glares at me, the look on her face clear— he is mine .

Letting go of his hand, she finally turns away and strolls from the atrium, her ladies in waiting following behind her.

Vaeril sits back down and turns to me, gesturing to the plate in my lap. "Are you going to eat that?" he asks, as he tries to take my plate, making me laugh at the mischievous look in his eyes. He's trying to cheer me up, shaking off the heavy atmosphere from being here with the queen.

"This is mine, get your own!" I bark at him, but I'm smiling as I move the plate out of his reach. I didn't know that Vaeril has a cheeky, mischievous streak to him, but I guess I didn't really understand him properly. Here, in his home, he's more relaxed, and I look forward to getting to know him better.