9. Eldrin

Chapter nine

Eldrin

I had to stop looking at her, trying to use a mere glance to learn everything that I could. I told myself that I was looking only because I was tasked with watching her—with protecting her—but I couldn’t stop my eyes from drifting towards her, like a bloom seeking the sun. The graceful slope of her neck and shoulders. The way her dress hugged her curves. The way her eyes lit up with the wonder of everything before her. The way her lips quirked, showing every emotion. How, despite the danger, despite everything that had happened, she was going to seize what enjoyment she could.

And my first impression wasn’t wrong—she missed little, even if she didn’t say much. She asked questions and seemed excellent at reading between the lines, the things I left unsaid. I could tell she wanted to ask me more from the way she watched me expectantly after I spoke. However, she didn’t ask further questions if I didn’t immediately offer a full answer. Knowing when to speak was a necessity for surviving at court. A spark of hope lit in my core that perhaps this human would manage to survive here, if she already showed such wisdom so soon.

But for her to survive, she first had to want to stay here in the Darkening Woods, and thus far, she was pleased with what she saw. That was good. I was doing my task. I chose not to see the fear that clouded her expression when she thought I wasn’t looking. The way she stayed closer to me than necessary when we passed those who were not as circumspect with their gazes. I was going to do everything I could to make that fear disappear, but that would take time. To start, I was going to take her to a place whose beauty was impossible to resist. For that, there was only one place to take her—the Chain of Lakes. Again, that likely sounded better in our original tongue.

The northernmost part of the lakes was only around an hour’s walk from the city and down a gentle slope, the forest’s distant haunting melody singing in my ears while we traveled. The journey was a series of abrupt transitions, in the city one moment and then the forest the next, and it felt like but an instant before we came to the crystalline waters. At least, the journey felt short to me. Our speed was not an accident—I knew the paths to get to these lakes better than most, and the way to take that would be the easiest for Amber to manage. This was not the only road—there was also a way for braver elves to dart through the tree branches to the lakes, their feet never touching the ground, but I was not about to suggest such an impossible path to her. It would’ve been a waste of time for us both.

The Chain was a series of six lakes and many more ponds and marshes, but the largest was impossible for most mortals to swim across. Even elves struggled, though occasionally some tried and succeeded. We were not alone at the lakes—this one in particular was never completely isolated—but the other visitors would stay in the areas known for their pebbly beaches and wide spaces for families to play and relax. I knew these waters, and I knew which lagoons would be deserted. And while I knew of other locations that most would struggle to find, I wasn’t about to take Amber any place truly private. Not while I had something to test first.

“This is gorgeous,” she said, sitting on a massive rock and looking over the lake’s water. The surface rippled in the wind, sending waves of brilliant blues and greens that reflected in the sun. As she watched, her green skirts were splayed out around her, resting over the tall grasses. “Are there a lot of lakes here?”

“There’s more, but this is not a watery land.” I stood next to her, arms crossed, my eyes searching for any sign of life, and ignoring dozens of animals in doing so. Considering everything that had happened to her over the last couple of days, Amber was remarkably self-assured. Was she in shock? It was possible. The venom would make its presence known sooner or later in a way that she couldn’t ignore—if it hadn’t already—but that day was not today. I told Amber that I wouldn’t let anyone hurt her, but I was painfully helpless against the venom, which was the biggest threat of all. Not to mention Vanir.

“Eldrin,” Amber said softly, her hands clasped on her lap, “since it seems like we’re alone, will you answer a few questions I have? About…everything.”

“Of course,” I said. And I would. We were finally away from ears, and she had to have a lot of questions, ones that I couldn’t safely answer in the city. As far as I could tell, there was no one close enough to hear. And it was going to stay that way.

“You’re a prince.”

Damn. She didn’t hesitate in addressing poignant issues. “I am,” I said. There was no point in denying it.

“So, the king, Vanir, is your…father?”

“Brother.” As much as I wanted to talk about anything else other than him, I decided I may as well tell her the truth now—she would hear the stories herself eventually. And possibly much worse that wasn’t true. “Vanir is my younger brother,” I explained. “We have different mothers.” Both of our mothers were still alive and mine was the only one who was queen, but my father’s romantic betrayal didn’t seem to be an issue to discuss at this point. “The fact that our father was king was enough for Vanir to be a contender for the throne—the throne passes through the hereditary royal, and the position of their spouse is largely irrelevant.”

“Younger? And a contender?” She frowned. “Do elves have a different pattern for succession? Because in the mortal world, the crown would go to the eldest. Usually.”

“It is the same for us,” I said begrudgingly. May as well tell her my greatest shame, and accept being lessened in her eyes. “I am the oldest, and I was the original heir. My brother took my place.”

“Oh,” was all she said. But her clenched fists and rigid posture told a different tale. “But you’re here. With me. How…sorry, in our history, most humans didn’t like possible challengers to the throne to be so close to them. Lots of royal siblings met untimely, suspicious deaths.”

“Again, it is the same here.” I looked away. I could not bear to see her reaction to what I would say next. “My brother challenged me for the throne upon our father’s death, as is common amongst our kind. The rules of succession are often suggestions. And I let him have it.”

“Why?”

Why? That was a question I asked myself every day. And I often gave myself different answers, many of which danced around the truth. “Our lands were never at peace, even back in our original home. Vanir, for all his faults, is better suited for warfare. He is more ruthless.”

“War? But you’re here. What war is there? ”

“There’s always war waiting for our kind. Give it time,” I said. “Once the peoples settle into their home here, they will remember the old feuds and find a way to bring them to life once more, this time with the humans choosing sides.” I sighed, catching the worried expression on her face, the wide eyes that locked with mine. “No, Amber. We never wanted to harm the humans here. Instead, we were afraid that they would bring war to us.”

Amber nodded, biting her lip. “Alright. So, Vanir is king, and you were the original heir. And he just…is keeping you around? That’s awfully confident of him, from the impression I’m getting.”

Hardly. “The change of the worlds interrupted things,” I said, resisting the urge to pick at my sleeves, a nervous habit of mine. “It was deemed more practical to keep me alive. And near him.”

“Practical?”

“I have my own allies, such as they are, including those who never respected Vanir. With the Woods in chaos, the last thing Vanir needs now is angering the elven who still support me, not when our resources are stretched so far. We need to stay united.” It was a situation that vexed him daily, most likely.

What was she thinking? It was impossible to say, since she was staring off at the distance. Good. Yet another sign that she thought before she spoke and acted. She would have a chance here if she managed to maintain this circumspection .

As much as I was tempted, I didn’t let myself consider what she thought of me. To admit to her that I had given up the crown…it pained me. Did she think me lesser for that? Could I let myself care what she thought about me? No.

“Do elves often marry mortal women?” she asked, deftly changing the subject. “Based on today, I would have to guess that they don’t. Isn’t there an elven match for the king that would be better? One that is not…me?”

She echoed my earlier protest to Vanir, and I had to find a way to answer her that couldn’t come back and hurt me. “It’s not unheard of,” I said, “but it is rare.” Once. It happened once that I knew of. “And I’ll be honest—I am surprised that he made marriage part of his offer to you. I’m assuming he wants to entice you into completing the bond with the barrier, and maybe he thought that the idea of being a queen would be enough to do it.”

“Because who wouldn’t want to be queen?” she asked sarcastically.

“That is the idea,” I said, biting back a grin.

She scoffed and shook her head. Again, I was struck by the intensity of her gaze, how she was seemingly searching for answers without a single word. She was truly stunning, in a way the elves could never be. Elves were like the trees, proud, graceful, and unchanging. She was like the wind, which moved and adapted and took in everything the world had to offer. Her brilliant green eyes often met mine, making my heart leap into my mouth. Her hair complimented the surrounding leaves, both of them a vibrant red that demanded attention. None of the humans I had met before had ever made me want to take a second look. None of them were her.

“I’ve never met him,” she said. “And he expects me to want to marry him.”

“You will meet him tonight.”

“Will you be there?” She cocked her head.

I hesitated. Did she want me there?

“Yes,” I finally said. A warm heat worked its way through me at her smile, how her posture relaxed. Yes, I would be there. I was not about to leave her to face an elven court alone. They would be polite enough to her on the surface, as long as Vanir insisted on her being treated with respect, but I knew better than anyone that manners could be used to hide cruelty. And this woman, who was primed to steal away the most eligible man in the kingdom, would attract an endless number of barbs. If not worse.

“What if I don’t want to marry him?” she asked. “What if I don’t like him?”

Inside, I groaned, though outwardly I stayed calm and offered her the best advice I could. “I suggest giving the idea of marriage some time before voicing any such thoughts. Vanir is a proud man. It is possible he may change his mind himself regarding marriage, if the two of you find yourselves unsuited. He can be fickle with his favor. But it is best not to anger him right away.”

Amber nodded, wringing her hands .

A figure shifted in the distance, a shadow that flickered between the thick trees. Another elf, watching us, unmoving.

I stiffened, my hands hovering over my daggers. Would Vanir attack me here and claim that the human did it? Would he kill us both and blame it on the monsters that lived in these woods?

The movement caught Amber’s attention, and she quickly found our visitor. We both stared, waiting. For long moments the elf stood there, his focus never leaving us. What was he looking for? The fact that he stayed there long enough for even Amber to notice meant that he wanted to be seen. Vanir wanted us to know that he was there.

And then the elven intruder was gone with a blink, leaving nothing more than the memory of a shadow. Out of some unspoken instinct, I wanted to comfort Amber, hold her in my arms and destroy anything that came near. For she was afraid. She trembled, her hands clenched at her sides, her teeth worrying at her lip. Painfully, I banished a budding treasonous thought, even as I stepped closer to her. Even if— if —such a thing as her and I could be, I had nothing to offer her. A life with me would be nothing but danger and regret.

“Who was that?” she whispered.

“ That is why we have to be careful,” I said. “Whatever happens, no matter what you want to say or do, never assume that we are alone.”