Chapter 2

" Y ou need to eat more," Eldrin grumbles from the other side of the long table in Vaeril's chambers. He's currently working through his huge bowl of porridge, and I can't help watching with stunned curiosity. My own bowl is almost empty and had a portion half the size of his, sprinkled with nuts and berries. In the same time it took me to eat that, he was polishing off his third bowl. "You look tired, don't you ever sleep?" he presses, trying to get a rise from me.

It's the day after Tor arrived, and I barely slept last night. My mind kept running through everything that happened, replaying every single detail, so I'm sure I look like a wreck. I'm still trying to comprehend everything Master Ardeth told me, and I know I'll have to go back to the library to speak with him soon.

"How can you eat so much?" I ask in disbelief, as I run my eyes over his body. The muscles in his arm are threatening to burst out of his sleeve as he raises the spoon to his mouth. "Where does it all go?" Eldrin, while bulkier than the others, is pure muscle, and he doesn't look like he's got an inch of fat on him.

"He's a warrior. We need to eat more because of the amount of energy we burn off with our training," Vaeril chimes in as he returns to the table with his second bowl of porridge. "And he's right, we need to start fattening you up." I can feel everyone's eyes on me, making me feel self-conscious as I continue to eat. I had begun to put some weight back on at the castle thanks to Grayson, but I lost most of that while Vaeril and I were on the run. While I agree with them, I do need to get stronger, after all, I don't like how their words make me feel insecure.

"Especially for when you start training," Naril agrees, making my blood run cold. I'd just been thinking that I needed to get stronger, but I hadn't meant in that way.

When I choke on my porridge, Vaeril has to pound me on the back a couple of times before I can cough out my protest. "Training?"

"You're part elf, you should know how to fight like one," Eldrin grits out, shaking his head in disgust as I reach forward and sip my glass of water after my coughing fit.

Vaeril nods in agreement, and I feel a flash of betrayal go through me. "I want you to know how to defend yourself if anything were to ever happen to me," he explains. A flash of alarm makes me put my glass down firmly as I turn to face him.

"Not that anything is going to happen to you," I demand, narrowing my eyes as he winces before lifting his gaze to mine.

"We can't know that." His voice is much softer now, as if that makes it any better, but if anything, it only stokes my anger and fear even more.

"Vaeril, you can't talk like that. Just the thought of you dying—" I cut off, feeling sick to my stomach. I'm not sure when I started caring for Vaeril. Sure, when we were escaping and travelling, I cared, but more out of obligation. When we reached Galandell, that obligation disappeared but the feeling remained.

"Sorry, princess, but people die. It's part of life. I thought even you would understand that," Eldrin interjects, sneering at me across the table. His hatred practically oozes through his pores and fills the air with tension. His comment stings, especially considering he knows about my history as a slave, but I refuse to let him see he's upset me. Vaeril is vibrating with anger beside me, and even Naril is watching his brother with a raised eyebrow as if surprised by his behaviour.

Meeting his scornful gaze, I simply stare. I don't force a smile or try to say anything, knowing I will crack if I do, and he doesn't deserve that kind of emotion from me. Slamming down his cutlery, he pushes away from the table and leaves Vaeril's rooms without another word.

Vaeril and Naril stay silent with their eyes on me, barely moving, as if doing so will cause me to break. But I'm not as delicate as they seem to think I am, not anymore. Taking a deep breath, I pick up my spoon again and stir my porridge. I'm not hungry any longer, my appetite has fled with the angry elf who left the room, but I force myself to eat it.

"He's in a pleasant mood this morning," I murmur, and they seem to release a breath at my comment, returning to their food.

"I don't know what's gotten into him," Naril says, as he stares down at his bowl of porridge, his frustration clearly evident in his voice. "Vae is like a brother to us. We got him back when we had almost given up entirely on ever seeing him again. But all Eldrin can seem to do is make gibes at you." The pain in his voice makes me pause. Perhaps Naril isn't as vapid as I had assumed he was. He's hurting and he needs his twin to help him through it, but Eldrin is dealing with it in a different way—by taking it out on me. I can understand where his hatred comes from, I experienced it myself when I first met Vaeril, but this seems to be more personal than just a blanket hatred for humans.

"He hates humans, and humans took Vaeril," I respond with a shrug as if it's easy, like his hateful words simply slide off my back. "I'm everything he's been taught to hate."

"But you don't hate us," he observes, pointing his spoon at me, getting more animated as he speaks. "You walked into your enemy's homeland and brought Vaeril back to us, knowing you would be treated badly. You should be hailed as a hero, not treated like a prisoner."

That thought makes me uncomfortable. It's bad enough that the servants had started calling me ‘beloved' before I left, I'm not sure I could cope with people treating me like a hero as well.

"They're scared," I argue, forcing myself to finish the rest of my breakfast, even though it tastes like ash in my mouth. "There are hundreds of years of prejudice to work past, it won't go away overnight."

"You'll win them over. You already are," Vaeril comments dryly, but when I spin in my seat to look at him with wide eyes, I see he's smiling. "I keep getting messages from one of the prison guards checking that you're okay." Rolling his eyes, he chuckles slightly, with Naril joining in at the other end of the table.

"Kaelir! Is he okay? He didn't get into trouble for feeding me, did he? I'll have to go and see him and Elier." My words come in a rush. Guilt fills me that I've barely thought of them since I was released from the prison. I vow to myself that I'll find a way to visit the two of them soon.

"Wait, why would he get in trouble for feeding you?" Vaeril sounds angry, and I raise an eyebrow at him. Surely he didn't think the queen was going to make sure I was given fine cuisine while I was in prison? Is that how prisoners are usually treated here?

"The queen didn't want me to be fed." I shake my head. I don't understand where his sudden anger is coming from, his changing emotions are giving me whiplash. "Didn't you pick that up from her comments about me being starving?"

"No," he grinds out between clenched teeth, and I suddenly understand his frustration. "I thought she was making a jab at how thin you are."

I can understand why he might think that. I wouldn't put it past the queen to mock my years of starvation or the toll it's taken on my body.

"Who's Elier?" Naril inquires with a slight smile, his eyebrows raised as he watches us with thinly veiled amusement. Vaeril observes me closely, as if he wants to know the answer too.

"He's the guard who brought me back to the palace after they found us by the lake," I reply with a shrug, before taking a sip of water from my glass, feeling self-conscious under their intense gazes.

Naril barks out a laugh. "So he imprisoned you, and you want to ensure he's okay?" His tone suggests that he thinks I'm mad. A grin stretches across his features as he turns to Vaeril. "Are all humans like this, or is yours just broken?" he questions with a shake of his head.

A flare of pleasure fills me when Naril calls me Vaeril's human, but I push that feeling deep, deep down. Glaring at Vaeril, I dare him to reply, but he wisely doesn't, his eyes sparkling with humour whilst his face is set in a neutral expression.

"He was kind to me when he didn't have to be," I reason, ignoring the ‘broken' comment. I've always felt different, and perhaps that's what it is—I'm broken. Part of me also wants to point out that I'm not human, at least not fully. I don't fit with either group, and perhaps I never will.

Shaking my head at the somber thoughts, I glance over at Vaeril, who's watching me carefully, as if he felt my dip in mood through our partially formed bond.

"What are we doing today?" I ask enthusiastically, as if the positiveness I force into my voice will carry through and I might actually feel it. The look Naril gives me tells me I'm not very convincing, but Vaeril just leans back in his chair as he continues to observe me. The silence stretches out between us, and I'm about to demand that someone say something when he clears his throat.

"I thought I'd take you on a tour of the palace this morning," he offers, his voice carefully neutral as he waits for my reaction. A small flash of excitement fills me at the thought of exploring this gorgeous building, which is so different from the dark stone castle in Arhaven. The corner of Vaeril's lips twitch up as he senses my eagerness, but his eyes stay carefully blank. I arch my eyebrow as I wait for whatever news he obviously feels like I'm not going to like.

"But the queen requires my presence this afternoon."

Ah. I'll assume I'm not invited , I think, forcing myself not to roll my eyes like I want to.

The elven queen is beautiful and serene, her people hailing her as a fair and just ruler. That is, until a human enters her realm. She was happily going to murder me on the spot when she first discovered my presence, until she was stopped, realising I had brought Vaeril back to her. I'd spent the night in a jail cell before Vaeril was well enough to demand my release.

He'd had a hunch that I was more than human, thanks to my abilities to sense, amplify, and break spells, so he had brought me to his old teacher, Master Ardeth. As the master librarian, Ardeth has endless knowledge and keeps records of all the elves that live in their land. Due to the bond that Vaeril and I share, which can only form between elves, it was clear that there had to be some elvish in me.

We discovered that Jaonos, a wood elf, had left with the intent to help stop the war between the elves and the humans. Master Ardeth had received a letter from him saying he had fallen in love with a human and they had birthed a son—half-elf, half-human. They now believe I'm the granddaughter of Jaonos, making me part elf. They have no idea who my mother is or what happened to me in the first eight years of my life before I became a slave, and I have no memories of that time, but Master Ardeth believes that there could be more information in his vast library and that I should visit the wood elves.

"Clarissa, did you hear what I said?" Vaeril questions, breaking me out of my thoughts. Shaking his head as I blink at him, he speaks again. "Naril and Eldrin will keep you company."

Excitement, nerves, and frustration fill me at this prospect. I'm excited to see more of the castle and Galandell, and Naril, while sanctimonious and a trickster, has proven to be completely loyal to Vaeril, so if he trusts him, so do I. Eldrin, on the other hand… When I first met him while I was in the dungeons, he'd been a different person, one I was intrigued by. But around the others, he's been rude and surly, snapping at my every move. Despite that, a slight thrill goes through me at the prospect of spending more time with him, a mood he'll surely kill within minutes. "Will I see Tor today?" Hope lines my voice at the thought of not being the only human here anymore. It's nice to know I've got another friend close by—if that's even what he is.

If I hadn't already been looking at Vaeril, I might have missed the quick look he shared with Naril. "I don't know," he hedges, but his tone implies he's pretty sure the answer is no. "I know he will be busy catching up on diplomatic duties."

That's reasonable. He's a new ambassador here, so it will take time for him to learn everything, but couldn't he spend even just a little time with— I stop the thought in its tracks, hating that I sound like one of those privileged, needy ladies back in Arhaven. I've lived my whole life only relying on myself, until the day Grayson rescued me. I feel like I don't even know who I am anymore.

"Oh. Okay." My tone is more solemn than I hoped, my shoulders drooping slightly.

"I'm sorry."

I don't think I've ever heard Vaeril apologise to me before. Sure, he's apologised in a roundabout way, which I'm learning all elves do, but never a direct apology. That's enough in itself to make me pull my act together. Taking a deep breath, I sit up straight and give him a slight smile.

"It's fine. When do you think we can visit the wood elves?" Changing the subject, I glance between the two elves.

"I'll put in a request today with the queen. I'm hoping tomorrow," Vaeril replies with a shrug, sipping his coffee.

His comment makes me raise an eyebrow. "A request?"

"It turns out that a lot changes in a century. There's a lot I have to catch up on, and the queen is eager for me get started straightaway," he answers with a half-smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

I'm sure she is , I think bitterly. The queen hates me, that much is for certain. I wonder if it would change her mind if she knew I was part elf? Probably not, she would probably just hate you more.

"Are you ready?" he asks, pushing away from the table and walking to my side, offering me a hand.

Nodding, I take his hand and stand, but something stops me from answering immediately. Something has been bothering me since we arrived here, and I know I need to start learning to stand up for myself, so I'll begin with him. At least, that's the plan.

"Yes, but I have something I need to say before we go," I blurt, the words blurring into one as I rush to speak, worried that if I don't say something now that I won't have the guts to again.

I feel Naril's attention land on me, and as both elves look at me, I feel my face flush red, their amusement rolling over me.

"Oh?" Vaeril prompts, his lips quirked up into his half-smile, but it only looks condescending, as if the idea of me having questions is amusing. His reaction stokes my anger and confirms my need to have this conversation with him.

"You have to stop telling everyone about my past." As soon as I say the words, his smile drops and his eyes narrow on me. He's not used to being told what to do.

"Okay, I'm out," Naril declares abruptly, walking quickly towards the door. "I'll see you at lunch." We ignore him as he hurries away, and if I wasn't a mess of anxiety and frustration, then I'd probably find his hasty exit amusing.

"It is my business, therefore it is my decision whom I tell. Everyone seems to know! When we came here, I hoped I could start over. Instead, everyone knows me as the human who used to be a slave." My voice breaks, and I don't miss his wince as I speak. Closing the gap between us, he reaches towards me, his movements slow so I can see what he's doing as he cups my cheeks, his eyes locking onto mine. I'm so confused about him and his feelings for me. Is he just comforting me because the bond is pulling him towards me and the need to mend things between us is driving him? Or because he actually wants to? I freeze, not wanting to move in case he takes his hands away. I'm enjoying the feeling far more than I should.

"You are so much more than that." His voice is earnest, and I want to believe him, but he needs to understand that what he's doing hurts me. It takes a lot for me to trust, and I so desperately want to just fall into the sentiments the bond is telling me I feel, but I can't do that. Not yet. I do trust him, we saved each other when we escaped, but it's a fragile thing, and now that we're here in his home and he's surrounded by his people, everything has changed.

"They don't know that," I point out, shaking my head. I need him to understand, to see how he's only adding to their preconceptions of me. "All they see are the things that make me different."

He looks puzzled, his brows pulling down into a frown as he tilts his head. "That's a bad thing?"

"Of course!" I exclaim, not understanding why he doesn't see this as an invasion of my privacy. As a slave, privacy was not something I was granted, but now I'm free and I want to change that. This is somewhere I could start anew, but he's taking that away from me by constantly reminding me of who I am, who I was. "Please, Vaeril."

Pausing, he seems to weigh what I've said, and I can feel the slight pull on the bond. "Okay, I won't say anything else," he promises, and relief courses through me. "However, if the queen asks me anything, I have to tell her what I know. I can't deny her."

Although I don't like it, I nod my head. That is an acceptable request. I don't want him to get into trouble with the queen over me, especially when he's the only thing keeping me alive here.

"Better?" he queries, that half-smile back in place as he steps back. Seeing my reluctant nod, he gestures for me to follow him as he walks over to the door. "Let me show you around."

The palace truly is beautiful. Everything is bright, and there's a peaceful, light atmosphere that seems to follow us around. The air at the castle back in Arhaven was always heavy, knowing that a misstep could mean the loss of your life.

As we explore the palace, I start to see influences of the different types of elf. The pristine, intricate, white stone structure is all high elf by design, but the entire back half of the palace is carved into the rocks, which was created by the sea elves who live here and dwell in these cavern-like rooms. I wanted to explore more, to meet some of these sea elves, but we only looked from afar. Vaeril promised he would take me to meet them soon. As we walk around, we see a couple of high elves who dip their heads in greeting to Vaeril, but their eyes widen when they notice my round ears sticking through my hair.

My favourite part of the tour is when we leave the main part of the palace and the wood elves' influence becomes more pronounced. Plants grow through the windows, and as I step into a large wooden room, I realise the entire back wall is made up of huge tree trunks. A sticky, tingling magic drapes over me, and I rub at my skin as we walk through whatever barrier was in place there.

Glancing up, I see the ceiling is actually a thick canopy of leaves. And as I look behind me, I notice the floor changes from polished marble to a light wood.

"We've actually left the palace now. This is one of the entrances," he explains. Frowning, I look at the large opening that leads straight into the palace, thinking that it's pretty exposed, especially considering the amount of security there was at the main door.

"This seems like an odd entrance to the palace." I try to keep my voice light and without judgement, but I'm not sure I pull it off.

"Only the wood elves use this entrance," he replies, gesturing up to the canopy. "It's not easy to get to. There's magic on the door, and it's guarded pretty well." Following where he points, I see several elves kneeling in the trees with their hands on their weapons, bows in hand as they watch us closely. "If you follow along this path, you'll see most of the buildings and houses built into the trees."

"The wood elves' influence on the palace is much less noticeable than the others," I point out. The difference is pretty abrupt.

"They prefer to be out in nature and the palace is built into two cliffs, so it was always going to be difficult to have an equal mix of all three," he justifies, but his jaw tightens, and I get the feeling it's something that bothers him too. "Mostly high elves live in Galandell, and they reside closer to the palace. The wood elves who choose to live here prefer to be on the outskirts," he assures me, but I wonder if anyone has ever asked the wood elves about their preferences? Sure, I can understand why they would want to be closer to nature, but given the choice?

We head back to the main palace, and with every step I take, dread fills me. That dread only grows as we walk into the main entrance hall and see the queen there waiting for us. "Oh, Vaeril, perfect timing." She says it like it's a coincidence that she just happened to bump into us, but I get the impression she knew we'd be arriving here.

"Your Majesty," he greets with a bow. After an awkward second, he pulls me down into a clumsy curtsy. The heavy weight of someone glaring lands on me, but when I stand, I see the queen is wearing a disinterested expression. Glancing around, she takes note of who's in the room, her eyes lighting up as a small group of elves begin walking down the tall spiral staircase.

"Human," she calls out loudly, and the quiet chatter in the room dies as everyone's eyes turn to me. "Clarice, is it?"

"Clarissa, Your Majesty," I bite out, only remembering at the last moment to address her properly, knowing full well she knows my name. She just waited until there were plenty of ears to hear her calling me human. She's trying to isolate me and make me feel unwelcome, but I lived for years being considered the lowest of the low. I won't let her chase me out.

Vaeril turns to me, and I see the apology in his eyes. "The queen needs my assistance. Will you be okay if I leave with her now?" I can tell from the tightness around his eyes that he wasn't expecting to see her here. He looks around the room, and I know he's hoping to see one of the twins. "I don't want to leave you alone here," he says in a whisper. I almost don't catch what he's saying, since he speaks quietly to prevent being overheard by listening, supernatural ears.

"Vaeril, is everything okay?" the queen inquires, her voice deceptively sweet.

"Of course, Your Majesty." Vaeril turns to face her, giving her a tight smile, but her eyes flick down to where my hand is still resting on his arm.

"The human will be fine," she declares with a dismissive wave of her hand. Several of her advisers and watching elves nod in agreement, but her silent ladies-in-waiting don't move a muscle. "They're like cockroaches, they can survive anything," she continues with a snide laugh, looking me directly in the eyes as she speaks. I know she's making a dig at the fact I was a slave, but at this point, her words just roll off me.

Vaeril still hesitates by my side, obviously trying to come up with an excuse to walk me back to my rooms when she speaks again. "Your captivity has made you soft, Vaeril." His face doesn't move a muscle, but I feel him flinch at the casual insult.

How dare she , I seethe, my anger almost a living thing inside me as it demands to be released. With a strength I didn't know I possessed, and before Vaeril can stop me, I remove his solid arm from mine and stride forward so I'm standing in front of the queen. Later, I will look back on this and wonder how I managed to move faster than the elf, but right now, I don't register the speed with which I moved.

"You're wrong," I growl, looking up at her as her face changes from her fake serene expression to one of cold anger.

"Excuse me?" Her words drip with menace, and I feel Vaeril suddenly appear at my shoulder. Before he can say anything or try to pull me away, I speak again.

"You are wrong." I pronounce the words clearly so there's no mistaking them. I can hear more elves entering the entrance hall, but I don't turn away to look because I know I'll lose my nerve. I keep my focus purely on the queen. "His captivity could have broken him, but it didn't. Instead, he was still compassionate and chose to help someone he considered to be his enemy." I want to shout and scream, but I don't. My voice remains icy as I see the hatred in her eyes.

"You think that makes him strong? Helping his enemy? It makes him weak. Helping a human after everything they did to him…" She finally loses her temper, her tone seething as she takes a threatening step towards me.

All of a sudden, there's someone in front of me blocking the queen's route. I see a flash of golden hair, but I lean around his body, not taking my eyes off the danger in front of me. She does look away from me though, and I see the rage she's about to direct at whoever stepped between us, so I do something stupid.

Later, I'll blame my rage for making my tongue loose, but I'll dream of that golden mane, the look the queen gave him, and the flash of fear I felt at the prospect of him being harmed because of me.

"I'm part elf," I announce clearly. There are plenty of witnesses to hear me, so really, I couldn't have planned it better. Vaeril groans quietly behind me, and I know this isn't the way he wanted the queen to find out, but I can't seem to help myself.

"What?" Her attention is back on me now, her body frozen as her eyes widen in shock.

"Vaeril suspected I wasn't fully human, but he had to wait until he returned here to confirm it," I explain, not bothering to go into detail or the fact that I only learned of this yesterday. "I'm part elf." Keeping my chin high, I stand tall under her piercing stare, only realising I've been holding my breath when she looks at Vaeril.

"Is this true?" Her voice is icy, her eyes narrowing as Vaeril steps up to my side and nods his head in agreement.

"Yes, Master Ardeth confirmed it."

The hall fills with quiet gasps and exclamations. I hear mutters of, "Half-breed" echo around us as the weight of a dozen eyes lands on me.

"Who?" she barks—an order, not a question.

"Master Jaonos." Gasps follow Vaeril's declaration, and the hall fills with speculation, their whispers bouncing off the walls, but there are too many for me to understand what they're saying. The queen's gaze returns to mine, and I can feel her hatred for me in that one look. I know one thing for certain, she is going to do everything in her power to have me killed. She might not do it publicly, that would cause too much damage to her reputation as a ‘fair ruler.' After all, I'm not just Vaeril's saviour anymore, but also part elf, so no matter how small, a part of me belongs here.

The elf protecting me from the queen shifts, and I can now fully see his face. Eldrin. Part of me knew it was him, but I can't help but gape at him. He hates me, he's made no secret of that, so why would he jump in front of me? Sure, he tried to make it look like he was protecting the queen from me, but I can tell from her venomous glare that she knows the real reason too.

"It's true, Your Majesty," he begins, his velvety voice rolling across me as he glances at me over his shoulder. "Just look at her. She might have human ears, but look at her other features—"

A loud slapping noise fills the air as he's cut off. It happened so fast that I missed it, my human eyes too slow to see the movements, but Eldrin is clutching his cheek, and it becomes clear the queen just backhanded him. A flash of colour behind the queen catches my attention, and I see Naril watching with barely concealed anger. His hands are balled into fists, but we both know that if he steps in to defend his brother, it will only make the punishment worse.

Taking a slow step towards him, she stops just inches away, her face pulled into a snarl. "I didn't ask you," she bites out, before remembering we have an audience. Her face smooths into the tranquil expression I'm used to seeing on her face, but she just leans forward to speak into Eldrin's ear. "And if you ever stand in front of me again, I will kill you." Her whisper is meant for him, but her eyes flick to me as she speaks.

Stepping back, she finally pulls her gaze from me and looks to Vaeril. "Come," she demands, giving him no room for argument. Stiffening beside me, Vaeril removes his hand from my shoulder and begins to move forward, throwing a look at Eldrin.

"Stay with Clarissa?" I almost miss the words, they're said so quietly, but I know the queen hears them because she clicks her tongue.

Thankfully, she doesn't say anything else, simply turning and leaving the room with her entourage following behind. With one last glance at me, Vaeril follows her, the entrance hall becoming suddenly empty.

Naril appears in front of us, his jaw tight as he looks from his twin to me. "Well, that was interesting." There's a pause when neither of us responds. Eldrin just stares at the floor, and I'm pretty sure I'm in a state of shock as I look around at the now empty hall with a frown. "I thought we weren't going to tell the queen yet," Naril continues, snapping his fingers in my face to bring my attention back to him.

Frowning, I reach up and bat his fingers away as my brain tries to comprehend what just happened. "She was berating Vaeril in front of everyone. I wanted to take the attention off of him," I finally reply, glaring at him. I can't help but wonder how much of the spectacle Naril saw. Obviously, it was enough to hear me tell her I was part elf, but Naril did nothing to stand up for his brother. How often does this kind of thing happen? At least Eldrin tried to help. "She's cruel. I'd like to see her survive what Vaeril went through and come out even semi-whole," I continue with venom in my tone. I reach up and rub at my chest, trying to ease the ache that has settled there.

"Keep your voice down," Naril snaps, glancing around to check that no one is listening. "She's the queen, she can do whatever she likes." He speaks louder this time, as if to placate any listening ears.

Turning, I ignore him and look at his brother who is still staring down at the marble floor, his face twisted. "Eldrin, are you okay?" I place a gentle hand on his shoulder, but this is the wrong thing to do as he flinches away from me, his eyes wild.

Naril suddenly jumps in front of me, placing both hands on his twin's shoulders. At first, I think it's to comfort him, but as I see his arms straining, I realise it's to hold him back. "Eldrin—brother! It's okay." His words are tight, as if he's using all of his energy to keep the other elf in place. "We're back at the palace. Vaeril is here. He's safe." The words seem to break through whatever dreamlike state he's in, and he slumps against Naril, his breaths coming in fast, hard pants. It doesn't last long, but for those tense couple of seconds, I'm terrified.

"I need to get out of here," he mumbles into his brother's shoulder.

Naril nods. "Let's take her to the cliffs," he suggests, patting his twin on the back a couple of times.

Nodding, Eldrin pulls away from his brother and straightens. His gaze instantly falls on me. I stayed completely still during his whole episode, not understanding what happened, but in my soul, I recognised his pain. Whatever he's been through, it was awful and has damaged him in a way most will never experience.

"Let's go," Naril announces, seemingly oblivious to our silent acknowledgement of hurt as he starts striding away, expecting the two of us to trail after him. Eldrin blinks first and gestures for me to follow his brother. What just happened here?

Taking a deep breath, I turn and hurry after the elf, his long, fast strides meaning I have to almost jog to keep up. Eldrin is behind me, I can feel him, but I don't look over my shoulder to check, I don't need to. We're all quiet as Naril leads the way. I should be taking in the beautiful architecture of the palace as we descend to the lower levels at the back end of the building, but I'm too caught up in my thoughts to truly admire it.

It's cooler down here, and I can hear the rushing of the river beneath us, the steady rumble of hundreds of gallons of water as it travels to the ocean. I'm not sure how many different floors we pass, since the stairs are seemingly endless as we keep walking down, down, down. The architecture here, although obviously of high quality, is much simpler than the main castle.

"You need to learn to defend yourself." Eldrin's voice makes me jump, and I clutch my hand to my chest as my heart pounds from being startled. He sounds frustrated, like this is something that's being playing on his mind for a while, and as I glance over my shoulder, I see he's frowning at me. I'm surprised he cares about my safety, and my face must show it because his expression changes to a sneer. "Vaeril might not always be around to protect you," he says snidely. "You're just a liability at the moment. You could get him killed."

Ah, there's the cruel Eldrin I've come to know. Shaking my head, I turn forward as we climb down another tight spiral staircase. I know he doesn't like me, and I don't expect him to. I'm everything he's been taught to hate, but every now and again, I see a different side to him. Someone who cares too deeply and has been hurt for it. I know some of this anger and rudeness is part of his mask to protect himself, but I'm starting to lose my patience with him.

"I survived slavery for twelve years, I'm stronger than you think," I retort, my tone harsher than I meant it to be. I sound like I'm trying to justify myself.

"You survived what others didn't because of your fae heritage," he counters. "You need to use it, use every advantage you have." His voice gets louder, and thanks to the tight stairwell we're in, his words bounce around me and seem to be coming from all angles.

He's right, not that I'm going to admit that, but I realise now that's the one thing I had that the other slaves didn't. Since we arrived here, I've just felt like ‘the human,' unwanted and in the way. I need to learn to embrace this other side of me if I'm going to survive.

"He's right," Naril chimes in ahead of me. "The queen has taken a disliking to you. You need to be able to fight." The fact that it's Naril telling me this makes me think that the queen is more of a threat than I originally thought. Vaeril cares for me, and Eldrin, well, I don't know what's going on with him, but I would expect a comment like this from both of them. Naril has no feelings for me, other than perhaps as entertainment and a fragile friendship, so if he's warning me, then I'm going to take that seriously.

"You think she's going to attack me?" My voice sounds calm and even, completely at odds with my pounding heart and turbulent thoughts.

"Not directly. You're a curiosity at the moment—especially after that spectacle." I can practically hear the eye roll in his voice. "The elves will want to know more about you, so she won't kill you outright."

"That's a comforting thought," I mutter dryly, while visions of fae assassins creeping into my room late at night and slicing my throat flood into my mind.

"Having the tribesman here will help with that too. He will be a distraction," Naril comments, sounding excited at the prospect of more drama for him to watch. "Besides, he's made it clear that if anything were to happen to you, there would be war between our people." His voice changes as he says this, holding a note that tells me he has no idea why Tor might have any interests in me. "The last thing we need is another war." I don't think I'm supposed to hear this last bit since he mumbles it quietly to himself, but thanks to the acoustics of the stairwell, I hear him.

My heart thuds painfully in my chest. "Tor said that?" My words are whispered, but Naril nods his head and Eldrin makes a disgusted noise behind me.

"Yes, he was very insistent. He had it in writing, an order from his high chief," Naril continues, and I can't help but frown.

"Why would the mountain tribes care if I'm alive or not?" I ask, confused. I can understand why Tor is trying to keep me alive, but the high chief of a tribe that I've never met? It makes no sense.

"No idea, and I don't really care. I just enjoy having that bit of eye candy around," the elf in front of me comments lightly, and I can't help but laugh. Naril is so different from his surly brother, who I can feel staring daggers into the back of my head.

So, with my mind full of confusion and contradictions, I continue to climb down into the depths of the palace, hoping that Eldrin doesn't get fed up with me and push me off the cliff.