Chapter 3

I stare at myself in the mirror, not recognising the figure that looks back at me. This is becoming a common occurrence for me, and if I'm not careful, I'm going to become vain—or develop a complex. The latter seems more realistic at the moment as I turn to admire the dress I'm in.

Once we'd met some of the sea elves in their cave-like rooms carved into the rocks beneath the palace, the twins brought me back to my quarters. Naril had wanted me to stay with them longer, feigning that Vaeril had told him to keep me busy all day, but I'm beginning to think he enjoys spending time with me. He finds my human views and the way I speak amusing, and although he thinks he's better than me, I do like him. Perhaps we could be friends after all. Eldrin continues to be a mystery to me, quiet and sulky one moment, then demanding and rude the next, and I just couldn't deal with that anymore today, so I requested they take me back to my rooms.

Any plans I had for a quiet evening alone were scuppered when a knock sounded at my door not even ten minutes after I had returned. Maids piled into my room, carrying boxes and reams of fabric as they started setting up. Vaeril's orders apparently.

"You look beautiful," my maid, Lillia, tells me, as she smooths the fabric on my shoulder tentatively. She's still terrified of me, but I think we're beginning to make progress. "Is—" She begins quietly, cutting off as I glance at her in the mirror. Smiling slightly to encourage her, I wait silently, knowing I will scare her off if I speak now.

Gathering her courage, she tries again. "Is it true you're part elf?"

Well, that could explain why she feels more comfortable around me. All of a sudden, I'm not just the scary human, but part elf too.

"Yes." My reply is simple, too simple really, but her resulting smile makes me glad I didn't tell her the truth—I don't know. I don't know who my parents were, so it's purely speculation that Jaonos was my grandfather. However, the evidence that I'm at least part elf is stacking up—my unusual ability to sense, amplify, and break spells, and the bond between myself and Vaeril. He also believes that's why the sprites, imps, and kelpies respond to me, because of the wood elf heritage.

A knock at the door has her scurrying away to see who's come to see me. I've learned not to follow her to the door, it just makes her nervous, so instead, I continue to stare at the stranger in the mirror. The pale skin on my face has been brushed with a fine powder, smoothing it out and hiding the dark marks under my eyes, which have been lined with kohl. A pale rosy blush was applied to my cheeks, and a pink gloss to my lips. My usually straight, dark hair has been pulled up into a bun, with just the two curls hanging down to frame my face. A chain of tiny golden leaves has been woven into my hair, glistening in the light as I turn my head.

It's the dress, however, that I can't stop staring at. For someone who has spent her life in dirty shifts that barely cover her, I am certainly being spoiled now.

Soft, pale pink fabric falls beautifully to the floor from a small golden band that sits just under my bust. Above the band, the fabric folds and pleats over my breasts until it is pinched together on each shoulder by a small golden band, creating a deep V-neckline. At the back of the shoulders, loose flowing fabric hangs down behind me like a cape, attached to two golden bands on my wrists. I'm grateful for the golden bands as they cover my slave marks, and I'm sure it was Vaeril who thought of that touch as the dress is completely sleeveless.

" Alina ." The word is spoken as a whisper, but as I turn from the mirror to face the elf walking through the doorway, I can't fight the blush that flushes my cheeks. "Clarissa…" He trails off as he seems to lose his words, his eyes trailing over my face and down the length of my dress. I don't miss his gaze lingering around the deep neckline of the gown, but he quickly looks up at my face again. His expression confuses me and isn't one I've seen on him before, but it looks something akin to wonder. Feeling self-conscious under his regard, I reach across and fiddle with one of the bangles.

"Thank you for the dress, it's beautiful," I murmur, running my hands over the soft, flowing fabric. It hangs all the way down to the floor, covering the hideous scars on my ankles, but the toes of my golden sandals poke out as I walk.

"It suits you. You look like a fae." He takes another step closer until he's within touching distance. His voice has deepened, and when I glance up, I see his eyes have heated, making the bond in my chest flip in pleasure. Flashes of memory from yesterday assault me, of before Tor arrived and how close we were to sealing the bond between us.

Reaching up to touch my rounded ears, I feel a flash of uncertainty. "Not fae enough." My words are quiet as I think of the queen. I could be full fae, but she would always hate me because of my connection with the humans.

Not to mention how close you are to Vaeril, she's jealous , my inner monologue points out, but I think there's more to it than her wanting him romantically. In her head, Vaeril belongs to her, but he was taken by the humans, and then when he returned, human in tow, he was different, no longer the Vaeril who belonged to her completely.

"I see the servants have heard about your fae heritage," he comments lightly, his light touch brushing the gold leaves in my hair before tapping on the golden band at my wrist.

"I don't understand," I say breathlessly, his slight touch awakening something within me.

"The leaves," he explains, watching my face carefully. His supernatural hearing picked up on the hitch in my voice and the quickening of my breath. "You're part wood elf," he reminds me. "They're making their claim on you."

His comment takes me by surprise, and I turn back to look at myself in the mirror. The idea that the wood elves are claiming me in some way, that I could belong somewhere… Don't get ahead of yourself , I chide, trying to calm my racing thoughts. You've not even met them yet. Just because they dressed you in golden leaves doesn't mean they've accepted you. Regardless, I can't dampen the small spark of hope that has nestled its way into my heart.

"You didn't request for this?" I ask, watching him in the mirror as he moves behind me, the atmosphere in the room becoming heavy. He positions himself just behind me. I watch as he slowly raises his hand and touches my shoulder, lightly stroking down my arm until it comes to rest on the bangle. Leaning forward over my shoulder, he brings his face to the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply before placing a gentle kiss against my pulse point. My body feels alive, every nerve ending tingling where he touches me.

"The bangles, yes, but not the carvings or headpiece," he mumbles against my neck, the vibrations of his voice make my eyes close in bliss as his lips brush against the delicate skin there.

"It could just be a coincidence." Even I don't sound convinced as I speak, just enjoying the feel of him so close. Since we've arrived, other than when Tor came, we've not had any time alone to explore this bond he claims is between us. I believe him, I do have a connection with him, but I also feel a connection with two others.

"Hmm," he hums noncommittally. The hand on my arm drops, and I feel him step away, but not before he threads his fingers with mine. "Are you ready?"

Slowly, I open my eyes, still clinging onto the feel of his body pressed against me and the heat of his skin against mine. Spotting myself in the mirror again, I can't help but think once again how different I seem—cheeks flushed and eyes heavy with desire, I look like a different woman altogether.

"Yes." Turning from the mirror, I notice he's still watching me with a satisfied smile on his handsome features. He's still holding my hand, and with a gentle tug, he pulls me towards him, offering his arm to me as I press up against his side. "Will you tell me what's going on? Why are we dressed up?"

The maids hadn't answered me when I asked them earlier, whether they didn't know the answer or were told not to tell me, I don't know, but I can't help the nerves that have settled in my stomach. Every time I was dressed up in Arhaven, something awful happened, and I still have nightmares of the faces of the women who were poisoned at the daily evening balls. Vaeril knows a little of what happened in the great hall, but I've never been able to tell him all of it.

"There's a celebration tonight," he replies, as he leads me towards the door, but I pull him to a stop with a frown.

"Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"It was a last-minute decision by the queen." The way he says this implies that this isn't the first time she's done something like this. Thinking back to my encounters with the elven queen, I have to admit that she does seem quite impulsive despite the graceful, cool-headed persona she tries to emanate. "A homecoming for me, and a celebration at the new alliance between the elves and the people of the mountain tribes," he continues, his voice even, but I can tell there's something off about him as he avoids my eyes.

"You don't want to go." I realise then that he's just as adverse to going to this as I am, although I think his reasoning not to attend is different than mine.

"This is just a celebration of my failure." His voice is bitter now, and my heart aches for him.

"Vaeril…"

I'd known he felt guilty that he'd been caught, that he could never return home, bound to serve his enemy, but he got away, he returned home! I suppose those thoughts were never going to just disappear overnight , I think to myself as I watch his face. Although the queen shouting about his failure in front of witnesses was never going to help. My anger rises again as I remember her reaction earlier this afternoon .

"I am looking forward to seeing my old friends however," he admits, reaching for the door and escorting me out into the hallway. "Your mountain friend will be there too." His voice is tight, even though he tries to hide his dislike for my friend. Usually I might scold him, but right now I don't care, my excitement rising at the prospect of seeing Tor so soon.

"Tor will be there?" My smile lights up my face as I fall into step with him, making our way through the quiet halls.

"Yes," he replies quickly before changing the subject, pulling me closer so our hips brush as we walk. "Tell me what you've been up to this afternoon."

"Naril and Eldrin took me down to meet some of the sea elves," I respond carefully, not wanting to say anything that might offend any listening ears.

Of course, Vaeril immediately picks up on my discomfort and narrows his eyes on me. "What did you think?"

I think back to my trip this afternoon and the caves they live in. There was such a stark contrast between how the high elves live in the palace and the caverns that the sea elves reside in. I understand they need to be lower so they can access the ocean easily, but they live much more simple lives than their counterparts above them. I can't help but wonder how much of that is by choice. Their caves have beautiful carvings all over the walls. I spent hours exploring the caverns, hearing the stories behind the pictures. The sea elves I met were all ambassadors and their families, and they seemed really pleased to tell me their stories. I got the impression that the high elves don't visit often.

"It was not what I was expecting," is all I choose to say, aware we are no longer in the relative safety of my rooms.

"They do look quite different from the high elves." He responds with a nod of his head.

He's right, they do. The sea elves are shorter than the high elves, but still taller than me. Their skin is a dark ebony, almost blueish in the light of the sun. They have broad chests and striking yellow eyes, their pointed ears poking from their dark braided hair. Vaeril had been right when he said they had webbed fingers and toes, but what he hadn't explained was that their hands and feet are much bigger than those of the high elves. They have long, elongated palms and fingers that form a point. They remind me of the paddles used in the harbour at Arhaven, but that's not what I meant when I said it was unexpected.

"No, I don't mean them, they were lovely." I pause, trying to think how to explain it without offending anyone. "The palace is beautiful, every inch of it is perfect, yet the sea elves almost live in poverty."

My words strike something within Vaeril as he suddenly looks at me, his expression thoughtful. After a few seconds, he relaxes and quickly dips his head once in agreement. "They prefer to live close to the sea," is his diplomatic response, and I get the impression we're being listened to.

"I feel like they are only here for political reasons, and they would much prefer to return to their people," I say lightly, and I feel his arm tighten against mine—a warning. He slows us down, almost coming to a stop as he turns his head, his lips close to my ear.

"I would be inclined to agree," he whispers, his breath tickling my skin, but I barely breathe, staying motionless, not wanting him to move away. "However, I would advise not to share this theory with anyone outside of our circle. The queen would not take those comments kindly."

He stays like that, my body almost pressed against his for a couple of seconds, until I nod once in silent agreement. Pulling away, he reaches up and turns my head towards his, his expression intense. Anyone who might be watching might think we're about to kiss, two lovers flirting quietly in the hallway, but I know better. We're being watched. I understand , I tell him with my eyes. Squeezing my hand, he takes a step back, returning my hand to his arm as he starts walking again.

"I'd like to see where they live one day," I comment flippantly for the benefit of whoever is listening to our conversation, but I mean it. The leader, Borro, told me about their glorious halls built into the cliffs of their homeland, so much grander than the caves they inhabit here. I'd love to see them.

"I'm sure we can arrange that." I feel his gaze on me again as he speaks, but I keep looking forward.

"How was your meeting with the queen?" I don't anticipate an answer, but I can't help but ask. All afternoon, I've been wondering about this ‘meeting.' Part of me believes that the queen made it up just to be able to spend time with Vaeril—or to stop him from spending so much time with me.

"Tedious," he replies with a snort. It's so unlike him that it brings a startled laugh from me, making him grin in return. "But you can't tell her I said that, she'll have me hanged." His voice is lowered, but certainly not quiet enough to stop someone with supernatural hearing from listening to his words. Given his smile and teasing tone, he gives off the impression he's joking, however the tightness around his eyes tells me enough.

"What was it about?" Lowering my voice, I ask the question that's been plaguing me since he left earlier.

"Mostly going over details about the agreement between us and the mountain tribes," he explains. I'm still not completely sure what Vaeril's role is in Galandell. I know he's a lord, but I have no idea what that entails or what duties he has to carry out, so I don't know if him attending a meeting such as that is unusual or not. "She also wanted more details about what happened while I was away." He sounds different now, and I'm trying to decide why. His voice is tighter, and when I glance at his face, I can see a hint of anger in his eyes. Although, if I didn't know him as well as I do, I'd just dismiss it for a neutral mask that the elves seem to be so good at wearing.

"What is it?" I say with more force than necessary, but a sense of dread lingers in the back of my mind, whispering that things are not as they seem.

Glancing over at me, he meets my hard eyes and sighs, knowing I'm not going to let this drop. He looks around quickly. We are still in a relatively quiet section of the palace. In fact, I have only seen one other couple who exited their rooms not long ago, but thanks to their elven speed, they are already out of sight. Pulling me into an alcove, he stands in front of me, blocking me from view as he lifts a hand to rub at his brow.

"I'm going on trial."

My eyes widen and my mouth drops open as I stare at him in shock. "What?" I'm not sure what I had expected him to say, but it wasn't that. "What do you mean?" Mind spinning, I search for answers in his expression. How can this be happening? They are hailing him as a returning hero, we're going to his homecoming celebration—how is it that he's going on trial?

"I created elven weaponry for our enemies to use against us in battle," he responds, his jaw tight. "I broke the law."

This takes a few seconds for me to process before my icy rage surges to the surface. "You were forced to do it. You were a prisoner of war," I point out, my voice cool and eyes narrowed, not quite believing what I'm hearing.

"Yes, and the queen plans to grant me a pardon," he explains. "But there are people who believe I'm receiving favourable treatment, hence the trial." I can tell exactly what he thinks of these people from the tone of his voice, and I get the impression he's had problems with them before.

"What people?"

He frowns at the force of my anger, but he answers my question. "A group of some of the younger lords." Shaking his head, he laughs humourlessly. "I think they enjoyed the benefits of me being away, and don't like that I've returned and taken them back."

Footsteps sound in the hall, making him pull away and offer his arm to me again. Curiously, I glance around the hallway, knowing that elves are quiet enough that I wouldn't hear their footsteps unless they were walking loudly on purpose, and I see Naril walking towards us.

"Come, we're expected. We can't keep the queen waiting any longer." He doesn't wait for us, just simply speaks over his shoulder as he passes. Vaeril nods in agreement, and we follow behind him.

"What are you doing here? I expected that you'd already be down there flirting with all the lady elves," I tease, smiling as I wait for his witty response.

Except that retort doesn't come. Frowning, I watch as he shares a pointed look with Vaeril. "I was just dealing with some pests," he replies, finally looking at me, his expression changing from serious to sly. "Just what were you two doing in a quiet alcove, all alone?" Wiggling his eyebrows, he laughs as my cheeks flush red at what he's implying despite my innocence. Spluttering, I try to come up with a response, but thankfully, Vaeril takes over with a gentle squeeze of my hand.

"We've been discussing your trip to see the sea elves."

He raises his eyebrows. It's obvious he knows we're lying, but thankfully, he doesn't comment on it. "Yes, I think Clarissa was a bit underwhelmed by their caves."

"No, I loved them!" I correct, frowning at the back of his head as he continues to walk ahead of us. "I was just surprised at the difference between the palace and their homes." I remember how I felt this morning when we visited the edges of the palace and saw where some of the wood elves lived, and how uncomfortable I felt at how different their accommodations were. Not at their choice to live with nature, but how unfairly the obvious wealth of the high elves was spread out.

We enter the grand entrance hall and descend down the large spiral staircases to the ground floor, which is filled with more elves than I have ever seen in one place before. My chest tightens with a flash of fear at being surrounded by so many of my enemies, but then I remember that they aren't my enemies—the King of Arhaven is. The elves, barring the queen, have been welcoming if not a little afraid of me, but those I've been getting to know are warming up to me.

The hall seems to amplify their voices, so a hum of lilting laughs and their musical language echoes all around me. Although, as we walk through the hall, the voices start to fade, until the only sound I can hear are my footsteps on the marble floor. As I feel their eyes on me, the old frightened part of me wants to hide. Attention was never a good thing as a slave, but I try to push those feelings aside. That's not who I am anymore. Naril seems to be lapping up the attention as he strolls in front of us, a wide grin fixed firmly in place as he winks at a couple of elves who are looking at us.

"They're all staring at us," I whisper out the corner of my mouth, my palms sweating under the weight of their attention.

"No," he disagrees lightly. "They're all looking at you." I'm about to bite out that his comment isn't helpful when he quickly glances over at me. The look in his eyes makes my retort die in my throat. "They are all jealous of how beautiful you are," he purrs, his eyes heating as he flicks his gaze over my body once again. "Jealous because they can't be the one at your side."

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, I raise my chin and try to channel my wood elf genes, assembling my face into a blank mask as we leave the stairs and keep walking through the gap in the group that seems to form like the parting of waves as a ship sails through, Naril acting as our bow. I want to ask where his brother is and if he'd be joining us tonight, but I know now is not the right time. So instead, I keep my eyes forward as I'm guided towards the large set of double doors that sit directly under the two staircases. The doors have always been shut when I've been through here previously, but they're open tonight, and my breath is taken away when I see the grandeur of the room.

If I thought the hall in Arhaven was grand, then this is on a whole different level. It's made of the same pale stone and marble, but everything seems to be inlaid with gold leaf, making the hall seem to glitter in the candlelight.

"You might want to close your mouth," Naril calls out, as he grins at me over his shoulder. Glaring at him, I do as he says, not even realising I had opened it in the first place. I turn that glare to Vaeril as he starts to chuckle next to me, and he wisely stops, but not before winking at me.

Leading me over to a long table at the back of the room, which is ladened with glasses, he takes two and passes one to me. I hold the glass up to the light, realising that it's some sort of sparkling drink from the bubbles rising to the surface.

"What is it?" The liquid is pale, and as I lift it to my lips, I wrinkle my nose at the burning sensation as I inhale the strong smell of the alcohol.

"Fae wine. It's much stronger than the human variety, so I would recommend sticking to the one glass," Vaeril suggests, and I nod in agreement. This is the last place I want to get drunk and make a spectacle of myself.

Back in Arhaven, I had been introduced to wine when I became ‘Lady Clarissa.' It seemed to be a staple at the table, but the liquid had been a deep red colour and hadn't fizzed like this one seems to. The alcohol had always gone quickly to my head, so I used to water it down under the table or stick to water. Arhaven wasn't the sort of place where you could make a drunken mistake and survive.

"Vae, you have to ruin all the fun," Naril comments with a feral grin, swirling his own glass of fae wine, which I notice is already half empty. I'm sure he would like nothing more than for me to make a fool of myself. Throwing him a glare, I turn my back on him and look up at the elf on my arm. I'm acutely aware that everyone seems to be watching us, although as I glance around, most have the decency to look away.

Taking in the hall, I frown as something occurs to me. There are no tables other than the one behind us containing the glasses of fae wine. "I thought this was going to be a banquet to celebrate?" I ask as we walk farther into the room, noticing that everyone is standing in small groups.

"We don't sit down to eat with our celebrations, although there will be some food." He points over to a server I hadn't seen before, standing by a marble pillar holding a tray full of small portions of food. Now that I look closer, I see more servers blending in as they stand still, holding out their trays, their expressions carefully blank. In the far-left corner is a band. The musicians are setting up their instruments, however some of the instruments are ones I've never seen before. At the back of the hall, an intricately carved white stone throne stands empty.

"Come," Vaeril calls, pulling my attention back to him. "I want to introduce you to some of my friends." I wince at his words but quickly try to school my expression. I knew I'd have to meet Vaeril's peers at some point, but I don't feel ready. Laughing at my failed attempt at a neutral expression, he leads me towards two immaculately dressed elves who are standing a little way from everyone else. "You'll like them, I promise." As we draw closer, I realise that they look older than everyone else—still beautiful, but soft creases line their faces. Thinking back to what Vaeril had said about elves' ages, I can't even imagine how old these two would need to be to show the signs of age.

The pair turn to face us as we approach. The female smiles kindly. She's wearing a beautiful, understated, light blue wrap type dress, with her light hair up in a bun decorated with a thin silver chain. The male is watching me with a curious expression, like he's not quite sure what to make of me. He's wearing a fitted embroidered jacket that seems to be a popular style here, as most of the males, including Vaeril and Naril, are sporting one of the same style.

"Taelir, Saril. I'd like you to meet Clarissa," Vaeril introduces us, gesturing first to the male, Taelir, then to the female, Saril. The latter of the two smiles warmly at me before her gaze flicks up to Vaeril, her eyes glittering with excitement. "She was instrumental in my escape from the humans," he continues, nodding his head at whatever silent question Saril was asking him. Her smile widens at his confirmation, and she reaches out to take my hands, pausing at my slightly panicked look.

"It's okay, I trust her," Vaeril whispers into my ear. Taking a deep breath, I give her a tentative smile and reach out, placing my hands in hers.

"Lovely to meet you, young one," she greets, but as soon as she touches my skin, both of our eyes widen, hers going blank as her mouth drops open in a silent ‘O.' Shocks of electricity shoot up my arms from her touch, and the goddess mark on my wrist glows so brightly even the golden cuffs can't contain the light. This female, whatever power she possesses, is powerful. I've never felt anything like it. Images appear in my mind then, images of me and a small group of people leaving Galandell. We're hiking across a great expanse of land, whatever our journey, it's not an easy one.

As quickly as the images appeared, they vanish, leaving me staring at the elf before me. The male at her side is watching her carefully, his hand resting on her back as if to catch her should she fall.

"What just happened?" I whisper quietly, but I know their hearing will pick up my words.

"Did you get a vision?" Naril inquires from behind me. I turn to stare at him in shock, but I have to stop as the world spins around me, fatigue making my body feel heavy as my energy drains from me. Hands reach out to steady me.

"Are you okay?" Vaeril queries intently, his eyes running over my face as if searching for injury. Silently, I nod, turning to look back at the elf who seems to have recovered from whatever just happened.

"Child, you have great power." Her words, while gentle, hit me like a physical blow.

"I have no magic." The denial comes so fast that it sounds false, even to me, but I'm telling the truth. I've been told many times that what I possess isn't magic, so she has to be wrong.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that." Voice light, she takes another step towards me and places her hand on top of mine again. Nothing happens this time, other than a very light tingling where our skin touches. "It's different, neither human nor elf, but you have power." Her tone is curious as she tilts her head to one side, and although she's looking at me, I get the impression she's not seeing me. "You've been marked by the gods," she whispers, her hand sliding up my wrist, moving the bangle to expose my goddess mark.

"Clarissa is able to amplify magic," Vaeril explains, frowning as he looks between the two of us. "I hadn't thought it would cause you to have a vision, otherwise I would've warned you. I apologise."

Saril seems to wake from whatever trance-like state she's in, smiling first at Vaeril, then at me, patting the back of my hand before stepping into the arms of Taelir. "It's fine, although you could become a little addictive. I've not had a vision that clear in years," she jokes, leaning back and looking up into the loving eyes of her partner.

"You had a vision of me." Considering how shocked I am, I sounded much calmer than I feel, and although I meant that to be a question, it came out more as a statement. I know what I saw, and my gut is telling me that it's true. For some reason, I'm going to leave Galandell. What I don't know is why or with who. I'd seen that I wasn't travelling alone, but not the faces of my companions. Uncertainty settles in my stomach like lead.

"Yes, but now is not the time," she replies firmly, her eyes glancing around us, and I'm reminded that we're in a very public place. My disappointment rises, but she suddenly turns her attention back to me. "Come and visit me before you leave."

I know she doesn't mean tonight, instead she's referring to the vision she just had. Nodding my head, I shift as an awkward silence fills the space between us, until Taelir clears his throat and turns his attention to me.

"Is it true that you dragged his hulking body through the woods and then battled with the kelpies to get a weed that saved his life?" Although his voice is disbelieving, he's wearing a friendly smile, so I know he's just trying to break the tension. His words, however, make me laugh.

"Oh. Well, he was semi-conscious for a while, so he helped a little," I admit with a shrug, glancing at Vaeril at my side, who's watching our conversation with a curved lip. "Plus, the kelpies gave me the nos weed."

Taelir arches his eyebrow in surprise, and even Saril seems shocked. "You spoke with the kelpies?"

This seems to be a common reaction from the elves, so perhaps I have done something different, although I don't understand why everyone is so amazed.

"Yes, I just asked for it," I reply with a bemused smile and a gentle shrug of my shoulders.

A snort has me looking at Taelir in surprise. "She's definitely related to Jaonos, he was the same." He shakes his head with a wry smile. "Always trying to convince me that kelpies were misunderstood creatures."

I want to comment that I agree, that while the kelpies demanded respect, they were helpful, and that a lot of their anger stems from the magical barrier that is keeping them from their family and the rest of their territory. In our time of need, they helped me. I remember our gruelling trip to Galandell with complete clarity, where Vaeril became so sick from his poisoned wound that his heart stopped beating. Somehow, I'd managed to pull him back from death with our link and forced him to eat the nos weed the kelpies had retrieved for me. However, that's not what leaves my mouth when I start speaking.

"You knew him, my…grandfather?"

Saril's expression changes then as grief lines her beautiful features. Taelir tightens his grip on her, holding her close. "Yes, he was a dear friend of ours. We were devastated when he decided to leave us."

Whatever she was about to say next is cut off as a hush descends over the room. Turning, I look towards the door and see the reason everyone has quieted. The queen has entered the ballroom with Tor on her arm.