Chapter 8

F or the next couple of days, I fall into a routine. Each morning, I wake and have breakfast with Naril and Eldrin, after which the latter takes me down to the same courtyard from before where he continues to train me. Thankfully, I've not had any more panic attacks since the first time. Eldrin seems to have taken everything I said into consideration, and in that time the two of us are together, he's like a different person. Understanding each other's past pain and struggles has made a huge difference in how he treats me, at least while we're training. In all other situations, he's surly and rude, but he seems to be softening towards me, even Vaeril and Naril have noticed and started to make comments. Of course, that only made him mad, and he stormed off once again. No one's mentioned the freak out Vaeril and Eldrin had the other day in my room, and I'm too worried about upsetting anyone to ask about it.

My afternoons have consisted of wandering around the castle with Naril as an escort. Occasionally Eldrin will join us, but recently, he's been called out to the border of Galandell most afternoons, and when he returns, he looks exhausted and withdrawn. Naril's always on edge on those days, snappy and more distant than usual, so I've taken to visiting the library to spend time with Master Ardeth. Even when he's busy, it's pleasant just to spend time in his company, enjoying the quiet atmosphere of the library.

I've hardly seen Tor and Vaeril at all over the last couple of days, and I'm sure it's a consequence of the other day. Dreams have been plaguing me recently, different from the nightmares I'm used to. In these, I'm reliving the day Tor arrived. Vaeril and I are talking, then we're kissing with our hands running over the other's bodies, our breathing hot and heavy. All of a sudden, there's a knock on the door, and it's Tor I'm kissing as I run my hand through the long hair on the top of his head, his large, muscled body holding me tightly against his chest. He bites down on my lip, and I groan in pleasure. The next thing I know, Grayson is holding me, his intense eyes gazing at me as he enfolds his arms around my body and lifts me up so I can wrap my legs around his waist. Our lips meet in a passionate kiss when I'm suddenly back with my feet on the floor, and it's Eldrin standing on the other side of the room, holding his hand out to me. He calls my name, and there's such pain and longing in his voice that I automatically take a step forward, wanting to ease his hurt in any way I can. I just place my hand in his when I startle awake in a sweaty, panting mess. I'm sure my subconscious is trying to tell me something, I just wish I knew what it was.

"You're quiet today," Eldrin observes as we trudge back towards the storage boxes that line the wall, the pads and gloves slung over our shoulders. He's walking just ahead of me. My eyes are locked on the muscles flexing in his back—he removed his shirt during training, the temperature much warmer in Galandell than Arhaven in the north of Morrowmer. When we reach the storage units, he throws the pads into them, and I watch his biceps bulge. Glancing over at me, he raises an eyebrow, obviously catching me staring, and I realise he's waiting for a response.

"I have a lot on my mind," I reply with a shrug. Yeah, too busy thinking about kissing your friend in my dreams and staring at your muscles , my mind helpfully supplies, and I turn away to hide the blush staining my pale cheeks.

There's another beat of silence, and I can hear him moving the pads around in the boxes. His sigh is audible. He gingerly places a hand on my shoulder like I might bite him and turns me around to face him again. "Anything you want to talk about?" He looks like the words pain him to ask, and he quickly removes his hand, like just touching me for too long might burn him.

"No." Mortification and hilarity war inside me. Mortification because I'd been caught thinking about him, but it's the expression on his face that makes hilarity win. It's obvious to me that he doesn't want to ask and is worried I would take him up on the offer. His expression shows his relief when I turn him down. I'm surprised he even thought to ask, but the Eldrin I train with is very different from the Eldrin he lets everyone else see. "Thank you though."

"You did good today," he offers with a shrug, and at my shocked expression, he frowns and seems to backtrack. "You've still got to work on your blind spot on your left," he adds, placing his hands on his hips. "And at some point, we'll have to work on your aversion to being pinned to the floor." I grimace as he speaks, and he holds up his arms in a ‘hear me out' gesture. "I know, but I can't teach you how to get out of that hold if we don't practice." He must have seen something on my face, because his voice softens slightly as his eyes bore into mine. "You can practice on me first, pin me down so I can show you, we'll go slowly," he promises, and I know there's no getting out of this. Once he gets an idea in his head, it's almost impossible to talk him out of it.

"Fine," I agree begrudgingly, crossing my arms over my chest. The few times we tried, as soon as my back hit the ground and his weight landed on top of me, I would freak out, demanding we stop. It's not been enough to trigger flashbacks yet, thanks in part to Eldrin moving off me so quickly, but I know he's right. I don't want to ever be in a position like that again where I can't protect myself.

"You need to know how to protect yourself," he says in a low, understanding voice as if reading my thoughts.

Groaning, I roll my shoulders, trying to ease my aching muscles. "I know—"

"We'll start on weapons tomorrow," he interrupts, his expression hardening. The worst thing you can do around Eldrin is whine or moan, if anything, it makes him work me harder.

His comment makes me blink as I take in what he just said, sure I've heard him wrong. "Wait, you're going to let me attack you with a sword?" I ask with quiet glee.

"Hm, you seem a little too eager." A frown pulls at his brows, but I notice he's fighting a smile. "Perhaps we should start with—"

"Lord Eldrin! Clarissa," one of the stewards calls across the courtyard as he jogs towards us. He's dressed in a dark blue form-fitted jacket and has the bronze epaulette on his shoulder, like all the other stewards in the palace. I don't know his name, but I recognise his face from my explorations.

Standing up to his full height, Eldrin frowns down at the steward, crossing his arms over his chest. "Yes?" He doesn't sound happy at the interruption, and I swear I see a flash of fear in the steward's eyes as he stops before us.

Turning to me, the steward sketches a short bow. "The queen wishes for you to accompany her in the atrium." I'm filled with surprise that the queen wants to see me, which is immediately followed by dread. Why would she want me to join her? She hates me. This can't be anything good, I'm sure of it.

Eldrin has obviously come to the same conclusion. "Where's my brother?" he barks at the steward, and I feel a little sorry for him as he receives the full brunt of Eldrin's displeasure.

Turning from me to look up at him, the steward takes a deep breath, preparing for a bad reaction to whatever news he's about to share. "He's been called away to the border. They had some problems with the rebels, but the queen ordered you not to be bothered, so Lord Naril went on your behalf."

Rebels? What's he talking about? I know Eldrin has been called out to the borders a lot recently, but this is the first mention of rebels. Is there unrest in Galandell I'm not aware of? I've not seen much of the city, but what I have seen has been very civilised. Except…I remember the caves the sea elves lived in. They were far below the palace and almost completely separate from the high elves who live above them. While I was there, they told me stories of where they live when they're not visiting Galandell, and I'd love to visit their homes in the White Cliffs.

A loud string of elvish breaks me out of my musing, which I'm pretty sure from the uncomfortable expression on the steward's face is all swearing. Eldrin starts pacing, and I watch him with a raised eyebrow. Why is he so angry about this? Is it because Naril was sent out of the city and he's worried for him, or is it something else? "Lord Vaeril?" he snaps.

Wincing slightly, the steward crosses his arms behind his back as he stands tall. "He's on business for the queen."

A low growl meets his response. "I bet he is," Eldrin sneers, but he doesn't sound surprised. Frankly, neither am I. The queen has been purposely keeping him away from me since we arrived. The large elf suddenly stops in front of me, coming to a conclusion. "Okay, Clarissa, I'll escort you. Let's go."

Grabbing his shirt from the ground, he starts to stalk towards the palace as I stare at his back in shock. Glancing at the steward, I see he's wearing the same stunned expression as me.

"I can't go and meet the queen like this!" I shout at his back, gesturing to my sweaty workout clothing, even though he's not facing me. The queen would just love it if I turned up in the atrium dressed like this—in fact, that's probably why she sent the steward to come find me now.

He stops and sighs before he turns back around. "How quickly can you change?" His eyes run up and down my body, which is so much more on display in these clothes than the dresses I usually wear. "It's not wise to keep the queen waiting."

"I'll be quick," I assure him, before turning to the steward. "Please inform Her Majesty that I'll join her shortly."

I've never changed faster, aware of every second that it takes to remove my old clothes and slide into a plain navy dress that Lillia had laid out for me. It's pretty, all of my clothes here are, but I don't waste time admiring it. Without the maid, it takes longer, and I realise I'm unable to reach the fastenings at the back of the dress. Making a frustrated noise, I pull my hair from the messy ponytail I'd put it in for training and reach for the brush, quickly running it through my locks to make myself look respectable.

Not even bothering to look in the mirror, I hurry from the room to find a bored Eldrin leaning against the wall as he watches the world go by through the window.

"Will you fasten my dress for me please?" Hurrying to his side in a swish of long fabric, I turn my back to him without waiting for an answer. Silence greets me. My mind is spinning with possibilities of what the queen wants, and he's just wasting time. What is he doing back there? Opening my mouth to snap at him, I suddenly feel his fingers brush across my skin. All thought leaves my mind, other than how every nerve ending in my back is suddenly alight. His touch, although featherlight, is amplified, and my skin tingles everywhere he touches. A small gasp escapes my lips, and he jerks away from me as if he's been burnt. Glancing over my shoulder, I see him staring at his fingers with a confused frown.

"Are you okay?"

As soon as I speak, he immediately looks up at me and scowls. "I can't do this up if you keep moving. Hold still."

Raising my eyebrows, I face forward, bracing myself against his tugging as he does up the fiddly fastenings of the dress. He's very careful not to touch me again, and as soon as he's done, he walks past me and heads straight to the door.

"Ready?" he asks with his back to me. Frowning, I just stare at him until he gets fed up with waiting for my response. He turns to me with an annoyed expression. "What now?"

I give him my best ‘are you joking' look as I deliberately look him up and down. "You're not going like that, are you?"

Surprise crosses his face as he glances down at what he's wearing. "What's wrong with this?" He sounds genuinely confused, and I shake my head in response, unable to hide my smile. His white shirt is hanging open, his bronzed, chiselled chest is on full display, and the form-fitting trousers that he favours don't exactly hide much of his muscled physique. Most of the male courtiers and elves around the castle wear tailored jackets with various emblems that I've yet to learn about, but I've only seen Eldrin wear a jacket like that a handful of times, usually as he's leaving for the border.

"We're going to meet the queen, and you're dressed like that?" My tone is amused as I gesture towards his clothes, trying to pull my eyes away from his exposed chest.

"I'll do my shirt up before I see her," he replies with a roll of his eyes, and this time, I can't hold back my smile as I laugh. His eyes widen for a second at the sound before he's scowling at me again. "Not all of us are obsessed with clothes." His voice is sullen.

"Well, the queen will be." I may not know the queen well, but it's obvious that she likes to collect pretty things, her subjects included. Eldrin is already in her bad books, so it wouldn't do well for him to turn up like this.

"Fine," he growls out, realising I'm right. After all, he knows first-hand what his queen can be like. "We'll stop by my room on the way to meet her. Can we go now?"

I don't bother to reply, only nodding as I walk to his side and out the door as he opens it for me, gesturing for me to go ahead. Closing the door, he joins me, and we stroll down the corridor in silence, although we reach his rooms much sooner than I'd expected. In fact, we are only five doors down from my room. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, seeing as Naril is just as close, but for some reason, this fact takes me aback. Opening his door, he motions for me to sit on one of the comfortable looking seats situated in front of a large window.

"I won't be long. Sit. Don't go poking around," he orders, but it lacks the bark he usually has behind his words. Nodding, I do as instructed, taking a seat and admiring the beautiful view. On either side of the window are two huge bookcases, the thick spines of the tomes embellished with swirling gold letters. For some reason, I'm surprised by this. Eldrin didn't seem like the kind to curl up in a comfortable chair and read a book, more like a warrior.

I guess I don't know him as well as I thought I did , I ponder as I glance around the room. It's neat, much neater than I'd expected, and again, I wonder where I got these perceptions of him from. Soft noises sound behind me, and I have to fight the urge to look over my shoulder and watch what he's doing. Instead, I focus on the view, trying not to fret about what the queen wants to see me about.

A set of booted footsteps walk towards me before his shadow falls over me. "You didn't snoop."

Pulling my gaze from the window, I push out of the chair and look at him with an arched eyebrow. "No, you told me not to."

The corner of his mouth pulls up into a smile. "I didn't expect you to listen, you usually don't," he teases, and something about seeing his more light-hearted side does something to me. I'm used to him being rude, but this feels different.

"I guess I like to surprise you every now and again," I reply, fighting my own smile.

He stills, and something in his expression changes. I curse myself for spoiling the moment. "Clarissa, you are a constant surprise." I can't identify how he's feeling when he says this, but his voice is loaded with meaning.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He's not joking around anymore.

His eyes run over my face, taking in my confused expression, before he slowly nods as if I've just confirmed something for him. "Never mind, let's go."

Holding out his arm for me, I only now take in what he's wearing—a dark green jacket in the same style of the courtiers, a pair of soft-looking dark leggings, and a pair of black leather boots. His mane of golden hair has been brushed and looks semi-tamed. He's wearing two brown belts that seem to crisscross over his hips, his daggers sheathed there. He looks lethal, his pointed ears poking through his hair and his slanted golden eyes practically glowing. His scar only adds to the image, and I get the sudden urge to lean forward and run my finger down it.

Bad idea, Clarissa, he would probably slice your hand off before you could even touch him , my thoughts warn. His expression changes, and I know he's losing patience and is about to bark at me for wasting time again. Shaking my head of those rogue thoughts, I link my arm with his and let him lead me from the room.

As we walk, my thoughts wander again, going back to the strange moment I just had in his rooms. I have a bond with his best friend, not to mention this connection with Tor and Grayson, so I shouldn't be having thoughts like that about Eldrin too. I'm probably just exhausted and worried about the queen, and it's making me think I like Eldrin because he offered me assistance. That must be what it is. Right?

Making our way through the palace, I begin to notice how many elves are watching us. I'm almost used to the second looks when they realise I'm the half-elf they've heard about, but on Eldrin's arm, everyone seems to stop and look, their expressions one of shock. Those looks soon disappear when he glances their way, and neutral expressions soon replace their surprise as they bow their heads in respect. There's an atmosphere of fear as we walk past them, and I can't decide if that's because of who I am, or who he is.

While he's wearing what the other lords in the palace are wearing, he still sticks out like a sore thumb, and no one could confuse him for what he is—a warrior. The almost permanent snarl probably doesn't help with the image.

"You're shaking." His voice is quiet, even someone with fae hearing would have to get close to be able to hear him.

I hadn't realised it until he pointed it out, but he's right. A fine tremble shakes my limbs, and I have to take a deep breath to try and calm myself. "I'm nervous about what the queen wants with me," I reply once I've managed to get rid of the tremors. Glancing to the side, I look up at him. "Any ideas?"

"Nothing good." As he shakes his head, my stomach drops. At least he's honest and didn't try to sugar-coat things for me. My fear must be obvious on my face, because he pulls me to a stop and turns to face me, his hands coming up to rest on my shoulders. "Hey, I'll be there. I won't let her hurt you." My eyes flick around to check that no one is close enough to overhear.

Where is Eldrin and what have you done with him? my fear addled brain retorts. Why is he being so nice to me? We've been building a strange sort of relationship based on shared pain and experiences, and I suppose that's developed into a fragile friendship, but what he's saying is dangerous. If anyone was to hear him, he could get into a lot of trouble.

"Could you really do anything to stop her?" I know asking him this is cruel, making him choose, but he needs to realise what could happen here. "If she tried to hurt me, or ordered me killed, would you really go against your queen to save me?"

I can see how much the approval of his queen means to him, and his silence answers my question. Disappointment floods my veins, but I push it deep down, knowing it's not fair to expect that from him. He's spent so much time working for the queen's regard, even though it's clear she hates him, I'm not about to make that more difficult for him. However, there is a part of me, a small broken part of me, that wakes up whenever Eldrin is around, and she believes him. She believes that if it came down to it and the queen attacked her, Eldrin would protect her. The rest of me is undecided.

Sighing, I pull away from his grip. "Let's get this over with." I straighten my shoulders as I turn away, then walk across the open space of the entrance hall.

"Clarissa!" Eldrin calls, his voice echoing around us and causing the few elves who happen to be walking through to pause and look over. Ignoring them and not stopping to reply to Eldrin, I simply head towards the archway built under the grand staircase.

Standing in front of the double doors leading to the atrium are two guards, their spears crossed to block the entrance. I stop just in front of them as Eldrin catches up to me, his presence comforting as I try to calm my racing heart. "We're here to see the queen."

One of the guards nods and knocks on the door twice before returning to his original position. We wait in silence for a couple of seconds until the door opens and a steward pokes his head out. Seeing the two of us standing there, his eyes widen and he quickly opens the doors.

"Please, come in, the queen has been expecting you, Clarissa." I notice the slight tremble in his voice as he speaks, but who is he scared of, us or the queen?

The guards move their spears to allow us entry, and with my head held high, I stride into the corridor and down the small set of stairs that lead to the atrium, Eldrin on my heels. I can't see the queen yet, but I can hear the murmuring of voices as they bounce off the marble floor.

"She's important. You risk the wrath of the gods." The voice is accented and cultured, but something about it puts me on edge as I slow my footsteps. What's he talking about, and who is this ‘she'? Eldrin stiffens behind me, and I hear a deep rumbling in his chest.

"The gods have no hold here anymore," a voice, undeniably the queen's, sneers, and I hear a couple of angry footsteps before a slapping sound makes me wince. Whoever just spoke has clearly upset her. "You forget your place, brother."

Brother. My mind puts two and two together, and I realise whom the voice belongs to. Taking the final steps, we walk out into the large glass atrium, the sunlight streaming into the room. There are two guards by the bottom of the stairs who don't move a muscle, and as I glance to the side, I see two ladies-in-waiting wearing their cloaks, hoods up as usual, completely covering their faces. The only other people in the room are the queen and the elf I saw at the ball who wanted me to follow him. I was right, he is related to the queen. He's wearing an almost identical outfit to what he wore the other night—dark trousers and a fitted jacket with bronze embroidery and detailing over the chest and arms. His silver hair is shorter than most elves seem to keep it, but long enough to run your fingers through.

The queen has her back to me, so she doesn't spot us as we enter. The brother, however, is opposite her, but with his head turned from me. He raises his hand up to his cheek. "My apologies," he murmurs, but I can hear the anger in his voice, making his apology insincere. As he stands to his full height, I see the anger blazing in his eyes, but his gaze is suddenly on me and a smile spreads across his face. "Clarissa."

The queen spins around and glares at me, her cheeks flushed. "Clarissa, you're here at last. You kept me waiting." Her voice is dangerously low, promising violence if I don't play my cards right.

Dropping into a low curtsy, I lower my head to show respect. "I apologise, Your Majesty, I had to change into something more appropriate." Rising, I see Eldrin straightening from a bow as well. The queen's eyes flick from me to him and back again.

"Hmm." Her gaze runs over me again, her eyes criticising me without even having to say anything. I could have worn my finest dress, and she still would have found fault with it. "I see you've another one of my lords at your beck and call." Her tone is light, but her expression is hard. The brother is watching our conversation with undisguised glee, but I try to keep my eyes off him, not wanting the queen to think I'm after her brother. "Is Vaeril not enough for you?" she continues, her voice sharp now as she takes a menacing step towards me.

"Your Majesty." Eldrin is suddenly at my side, his voice softer than I've heard it before, and I remember his promise to me. My heart flutters at the gesture, but the queen isn't impressed. Crossing the space between us with fae preternatural speed and grace, she snarls in Eldrin's face.

"I wasn't speaking to you." Her features are twisted, and I'm reminded that this is a supernatural being standing in front of me. The harsh words make him flinch as she stands in front of him, growling softly, but to his credit, he doesn't step down or back away like my body is screaming to. As if just remembering I'm here, the queen's expression starts to smooth as she glances at me, disgust flickering in her eyes for a second before her serene mask is fully back in place.

"Clarissa, have you met my brother? Prince Taejon?" she inquires, her arm gesturing backwards towards him, but she doesn't turn around or look at him, her gaze locked on me the whole time. I get the impression that there's no love lost between the siblings as I notice a flicker of irritation cross the prince's face before he walks up to me. Stopping just a step behind the queen, he smiles in a way that, had I been a cat, would make my hackles rise.

"Your Highness," I reply, remembering my lessons with Naril and Master Ardeth on court etiquette as I dip into a curtsy, making sure it's respectful but not as low as the one to the queen had been. Straightening, I loosely cradle my hands behind my back, wanting to keep my goddess mark from his view for some reason. I know he's seen it before. When I first arrived, my mark glowed brightly enough that everyone watching was able to see it. "We've not been officially introduced yet," I continue with a small, polite smile.

"The honour is all mine, Clarissa." His eyes run up and down my body with a hunger that makes me feel nauseous. Eldrin shifts his weight behind me, and I know that if we weren't in front of the queen, he wouldn't just be standing quietly behind me. "I've heard much about you, including some of your more unique abilities—"

"Taejon," the queen barks, cutting off whatever the prince was about to say, once again not even looking at him as she speaks.

His anger is much more obvious now, and I see rage threatening to overtake him as he tries to calm himself. "I've overstepped," he apologises, his calm restored. Dipping his head towards me, he smiles, but it's lacking the energy it had earlier, and something I'm unable to identify flickers in his eyes, making him seem dangerous. "It was nice to meet you, Clarissa, I look forward to spending more time with you soon."

Without waiting for a reply, he turns and storms past us up the stairs and out through the door into the main castle. Relief immediately floods through my system as soon as he leaves, and this time, I can't hide the shudder his presence invoked. I notice the queen watching me with interest. There's a pause, and I remember why I was nervous to come here in the first place. She's looking right at me.

"Clarissa, walk with me," she orders, turning and walking farther into the atrium, fully expecting me to just follow without question. I suppose that's the benefit of being in charge—people do what you say. Glancing over my shoulder at my companion, I see he's frowning at the queen's back, his confusion evident. At my look, he shrugs and gestures for me to do as she ordered, stepping forward in time with me.

As if sensing the movement and prepared to pounce, she pauses and glances over her shoulder. "Lord Eldrin, you may wait here." Waving a hand dismissively, she turns away once more.

Struggle and strain are obvious on Eldrin's face as he takes another step towards the queen. "But—"

This is the wrong thing to say. Spinning and using that supernatural speed again, she suddenly appears in Eldrin's face, her expression full of rage. She's going to hurt him, that much is true, and something strikes me in that moment as I watch him. He's going to go against her orders. Sudden clarity hits me, and I know I have to do something. He'll protect me, just like he said, and then she'll kill him.

"You dare question me?" The queen almost seems to grow in size, and this close, it looks like her eyes have gone wholly black, her body shaking with her anger.

Then, in a move I'm sure I'm going to regret later, I step between her and Eldrin. "Your Majesty, please—" I'm cut off as she turns her hatred from him to me, her head tilting to the side as she watches me like a predator stalking its prey, and my words die in my throat.

"Why do you care what happens to him?" Her voice is surprisingly even as she speaks. She takes a half step forward, and I instinctively take a step back, bumping into Eldrin's hard chest. His hand comes up to rest on my shoulder, and I take a deep breath, trying to stay calm under her anger. "I've seen how he treats you. What is it about him?" she questions, and her expression turns into a grimace as she glances over my shoulder at him. "It can't be his looks, those were ruined years ago—such a shame," she sneers, and I feel him flinch behind me. A smile spreads across her lips as she hits her mark, enjoying the fact that she can hurt him so easily. My anger bubbles up inside me, so fiercely that it almost takes my breath away.

"You're wrong." The queen freezes as I speak. "Besides, in my experience, the most outwardly beautiful people often tend to be the ugliest on the inside," I state with a confidence I didn't know I possessed, but I mean every single word.

I expect her to get mad and hit me like she almost did with Eldrin, but instead, she raises one perfect brow. Humming in amusement, she finally takes a step away from me, and I feel like I can breathe again.

"Maybe you are more like us than I first thought. Come." There is no room for argument in her tone, and I don't want to risk pushing her again, not when she seems to be so eager to punish Eldrin. For what, I don't know.

The hand on my shoulder tightens, and I turn to look up at him. His face is torn, and I know his desire to protect me and obey the queen are warring within him. "I'm fine, I promise." Smiling slightly, I roll my shoulders to try and ease the tension there, and he follows the movement with his eyes. "She won't hurt me," I promise, hoping he can't hear the lie. I have no doubt that the queen will try to get rid of me in any way possible, and the fact she's sent Vaeril and Naril away worries me.

"That's not true and you know it," he grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. Silence fills the gap between us as his face shows a variety of emotions, as if he's struggling to pick just one. "You tried to protect me."

Glancing away from the raw emotion, I shrug, looking at the guards over his shoulder who are watching us with interest. "Of course," I reply, answering as if risking my life for his isn't a big deal, even though we both know the truth.

Gripping my shoulders, he lowers his face so we're eye to eye, his frustration clear. "Why?" Shaking me slightly, he almost begs for the answer, and there's a pain in his eyes that scares me.

"Clarissa!" the queen calls, her voice sharp as she saves me from answering the question I don't have an answer for. Taking a slow step back from him to put some space between us, I finally meet his eyes again.

"We'll talk later. Wait here for me?" I ask softly, relieved when he slowly nods. Part of me expected him to demand I answer him before he let me leave.

Turning, I straighten my shoulders and walk towards the waiting queen, who's been watching my exchange with narrowed eyes. As I reach her side, I dip my head slightly in respect, even though it's the last thing I want to do.

"How may I assist you, Your Majesty?" My voice is light, and I make sure to keep my eyes down, following Naril's instructions. I'm suddenly grateful he'd insisted I have court lessons.

The queen makes a small snorting noise and waves her hand. "You can drop all that, Clarissa. I want us to talk honestly," she tells me, waiting for me to meet her gaze. When I do, I'm sure my disgust at how she treats Eldrin is clear on my face as she gives me a smug smile. "There you are," she purrs, her eyes running over me again. "Let's go into the garden."

She doesn't wait for my reply, instead she simply walks towards the open glass doors at the other side of the atrium. Her ladies-in-waiting follow closely behind her, their floor-length capes swishing on the ground. Trying to calm my racing thoughts, I step forward and follow her outside. I expected the guards to follow us, but I realise with surprise that it's just the queen, her maids, and me. Either there are more guards out here that I can't see, or she doesn't consider me a threat. Both of those could be true, and knowing the queen, they probably are.

The gardens are beautiful, and there's not a leaf out of place or a weed to be seen. The white gravel I'm walking along weaves a path past expertly manicured trees and bushes of bright pink roses. It's quiet, the only sound the soft rumble of the waterfall where the river meets the sea. The gardens are actually in the center of the palace, the white stone walls rising up above us, and at the edge of the garden is the river the palace is built over. The queen's wearing a beautiful white dress today, with bronze embroidery on the sleeves and on the bottom of the skirt. A bronze sash around her waist matches the diadem that's resting on her immaculate hair. The dress is very different than the usual fitted gowns she seems to favour, giving the impression that she's soft, virginal almost.

"I suppose you're wondering why I summoned you here." Her question makes me jump, her musical voice bringing me out of my musing. She's farther into the garden by a rose arch, the white petals matching her dress, making her look like she's part of the garden.

"Yes," I admit, as I meander down the path towards her. "I know you don't particularly like me, so it was a surprise." This is a risky thing to say, but she said she wanted the truth, so that's what I'll give her.

Raising an eyebrow at my candid response, she gives a short laugh before turning back to her flowers and running a finger over the petals. Under her touch, they seem to bloom even more, the leaves becoming fuller and the plant brighter as it leans towards her like she is the sun. "You're right," she replies. "I don't like you, but I have to keep you around because of Vaeril." I'm still staring at the plant that now looks magnificent as it grows up the rose arch, but at the mention of Vaeril, I bring my attention back to her. "If I kill you, it could kill him, and I'm not willing to risk that." She moves onto another plant, and the same process happens again. Any plant she touches springs to life. Paying attention, I notice I can sense her using magic, but it's strange, almost unnatural, and it feels like ants are crawling along my skin.

"What do you mean?" I question, and she turns from the plant to look at me with an arched brow again.

"You're bonded." Panic flares to life inside me. She knows? Vaeril wanted to keep that a secret because he's worried what she would do with the knowledge. The queen is jealous, and knowing one of her favourite elves is bonded to me might push her over the edge. Her smile pulls into a grin as she sees my surprised, fearful look. "Oh yes, I know about that, I figured it out long ago."

What do I do? She could be lying and trying to get answers out of me, but if I say anything, I could be confirming her suspicions. My thoughts whirl as I try to decide how to react. On the other hand, I want to know what she meant about how Vaeril could die if she was to kill me, but how do I ask without sounding ignorant?

I needn't have worried, however, as the queen seems to see right through me. "You really don't know anything about us, do you?" she queries, smirking. My lack of knowledge seems to please her as she turns back to her plants. "When one person in a bonded couple dies, the other often perishes with them too. Vaeril is…important to me. I won't lose him again."

The information resonates with me, and I know she's telling the truth. What does that mean for Tor and Grayson? Our links are different than the one I share with Vaeril, but we're still connected. If I died, would all of them suffer because of it? I'm not about to ask the queen, and I know with certainty that if she was to find out about my other connections that it would be bad news for all of us.

A flash of jealousy fills me at her last comment—he's important to her. I've known since we arrived in Galandell and I saw from her reaction to his return that she had feelings for him, but hearing her confirm it makes me uncomfortable. Does Vaeril feel the same? Was there anything between them before he got captured? I'm pretty sure she doesn't have any romantic feelings for him, I don't think she has the capacity to love anything, but she likes to collect pretty things and she doesn't like to be denied anything.

"There are some, like my brother, who think you're special," the queen continues, seemingly oblivious to my internal panic as she sneers at the thought that I'm anything other than ordinary. "They believe that your arrival here is a sign that the gods and goddesses will return. That they are returning." She pauses now, turning back to face me, her hand still on a plant that is slowly winding itself around her lower arm. I've never seen anything like it, but I know better than to take my eyes off the queen. It was one of the first things Eldrin taught me—not to take my eyes off my enemy. The atmosphere suddenly changes, and I get the feeling that if I make the wrong move or say the wrong thing, I'll be begging for death. "Those thoughts are dangerous, and I will eradicate anyone who says as such. My brother is protected, so I am unable to do anything about him, but no one else is invaluable."

Protected? What does she mean by that? My thoughts are a whirl, but the threat is obvious. Some of the elves believe I'm a sign? Why me? Although the question that bugs me the most is why does she feel this is such a threat to her? So what if the gods come back, wouldn't that be a good thing? I need to speak to Vaeril and Master Ardeth and learn more about their gods and goddesses.

"Do I make myself clear, Clarissa?"

I nod my head in a sharp jerk, my fear making my heart pound so hard in my chest, I'm sure she can hear it. "Crystal clear." My voice cracks as I speak, and I notice the quirk of her lips when she hears it, enjoying my discomfort.

Untwining the vine from her arm, she walks farther into the garden, her ladies-in-waiting following silently behind her. Unrooting my feet from where they seem to have frozen to the ground, I trail slowly behind her. "I like to think that I'm a fair ruler, but to protect my people, sacrifices need to be made," she remarks, but I don't think she requires a reply, enjoying the sound of her own voice too much. "Now, tell me about your relationship with the tribesman." The sudden change of subject almost has me stumbling. Where did that come from? One moment she's threatening me, the next she's asking me about my relationships?

"Tor?" Confusion and surprise make my voice high and tight, causing the queen to look over at me sharply. "I know him from Arhaven, but not well. He had only just arrived before Vaeril and I fled," I say truthfully, meeting her gaze full-on.

Pursing her lips, she watches me carefully, as if I might crack under pressure. She doesn't want to believe me, that much is clear from the pinched look on her face. "There's something you're not telling me." Narrowing her eyes, she takes a delicate, measured step towards me, and the move makes me flinch. When she sees my reaction she stops, wearing a small, cruel smile on her lips as she watches me with her hands clasped together loosely in front of her. She looks like something out of a fairy tale, and I feel like that's exactly what she's going for. "He's very fond of you."

I know she has a way of weeding out the truth from lies, but every word I've spoken so far has been the truth. The queen is right, I haven't told her everything, and there's no way I'm about to. If I'm going to survive this, I need her to believe me.

Frowning slightly, I let confusion show on my face, glancing down at my hands, which are clasped in front of me in a reflection of the queen's pose. "He once told me that I looked like his best friend who died a long time ago, perhaps it's that?"

Her stare bores into me, and my body freezes. For a moment, I think she's using magic on me, but I extend my senses and can't feel any being used. My body is just locked in fear. Her pretty dresses and beauty may make her look harmless, but there is no doubt that she's a ruthless predator.

"He travelled across the continent to find you."

Clearing my throat, I shake my head slightly. "He's here as an ambassador for his people." Truth. Taking a deep breath, I smile slightly, trying to relax some of the tension in my shoulders. "That is all, Your Majesty."

The queen had turned back to her flowers, but as I speak, her head whips around, her narrowed eyes focusing on me once again. "Hmm, you don't believe that." She hums, her expression changing as she ponders over what that could mean.

I need to get off that topic before I inadvertently say something that will get Tor into trouble. Steeling my nerves, I walk up to the flowerbed she's standing by, examining the beautiful roses, her gaze on me the whole time. "I'm surprised you're okay with Vaeril and I being bonded." It's a risky subject, but also one I want to know the answer to.

Making a noise in the back of her throat, she looks away from me and returns her attention to the flowers, the leaves and vines growing towards her as she runs her hand over them. "Oh, I'm not," she assures me, voice light. "But for now, he's the only thing keeping me from killing you where you stand." My blood runs cold as she casually talks about slaying me, and for the first time, I thank the Great Mother that Vaeril is bonded to me.

"The gods are cruel, pairing you, a half-breed, with someone like him," the queen continues, her calm voice cracking a little on ‘half-breed,' but after a second, she regains control. The two of us stand side by side, not really paying any attention to the gardens, but keeping up the fa?ade for anyone watching. "You know what this means?" she asks, her voice bright as she glances at me. I shake my head slightly, not bothering to voice my reply.

Turning to face me once more, her eyes glow with cruel glee. "I am your queen." Her blood-red lips curl into a smirk as she takes a step to close the gap between us. The urge to step back, to get away from the threat before me is strong, and I have to fight against my instincts. "Before, you were just an unwelcome guest, but the bond between you and Vaeril confirms it. You are one of my subjects, whether you like it or not."

I blink as I realise she's right, and I'm not quite sure why I hadn't thought of this before. A guest. She's right, that's what it felt like, but now that she's accepted my claim that I am at least part elf, she is my queen.

Is this a good thing? My thoughts spin, trying to work through this new revelation. On one hand, she's accepted that I'm part elf, so I do belong here, no matter how much I feel like I'm an outsider. I could make a place for myself here. On the other hand, she's my sovereign, so whatever she says goes. She could order me to stay away from Vaeril and I'd have to obey. I need to speak to Vaeril and the others to find out what this means and if it changes anything.

Oblivious to my internal struggle, the queen continues, "I can make your life miserable, so I suggest you make yourself useful to me."

My throat is dry, and my voice croaks as I try to reply, gripping my hands tightly to stop myself from fidgeting. "How would I do that, Your Majesty?"

"For now, you visit the wood elves," she instructs, and my eyebrows rise in surprise. Is that it? I'd expected some awful task from her. Sensing my astonishment, she smiles again, and my stomach sinks as I get a bad feeling. "That is not all, Clarissa. If anyone says you were sent by the gods, deny it. You reassure them that I am the rightful queen, and let me know of anyone who believes otherwise on your return."

She wants me to spy, to disprove any rumours that I am anything other than a half-breed working for her queen. "I understand."

"I hope you do. There are ways to silence you without killing you, Clarissa." Her ladies-in-waiting are suddenly at her side, and at a gesture from the queen, as one, they lower their hoods. I stare at them in horror, feeling the blood drain from my face. I always suspected that they were beautiful, and I was right, with their white-blonde hair shining in the sunlight and their perfect high cheekbones, but it's their mouths that draw my attention. Their once beautiful lips have been sewn shut. Crude stitches pierce through the skin and bind them together. One of the maids has dull eyes as she looks down at the ground, but the other is looking directly at me, her blue eyes shining with fear. Help me , her eyes scream, the emotion so strong, I can almost hear her plea.

"Do I make myself clear?" the queen demands with cruel amusement on her face as she makes another gesture. The ladies-in-waiting raise their hoods again, hiding their disfigured faces.

"Yes." My voice is just a whisper, but I know she hears me from her self-satisfied smirk as she runs her eyes over me again, grinning as she sees the terror in my quivering body.

"You may leave." She waves me away with a dismissive gesture.

She needn't tell me twice. Spinning on my heel, I hurry to get as far away from her as I can, trying and failing to keep my hasty steps even. As my mind reels and my heart pounds, my eyes are drawn to the rose arch that the queen had been using her magic on. It looked beautiful before, but now the whole plant is black and shrivelled. Eyes wide, I turn and see a trail of destruction. All the plants she touched are withered and dead. Looking up, I see the queen watching me with a circle of death surrounding her. This time when I whirl around, I don't bother trying to hide my fear. Picking up my skirts, I run through the gardens and back to the relative safety of the palace.