Chapter 14 #2
But Tristan, find ways to be true to yourself, within the confines of your duties, or you will break apart. I could already see the cracks in your veneer.
Everyone here wanted me to say hello, your uncle, Lucca, Mother, and Father. We all love you and miss you every day. Keep well, Little Man.
Love,
Papa
I’m tearful. I never thought I’d have something like this. If I hadn’t been abducted, I wouldn’t have. My time in Aldrien, something that could have been bad, brought a lot of good with it.
Papa,
I will make all of you proud. I’m closer to becoming Elf. I can feel it and not a moment too soon, I need to be out of here. I know I should be stronger, that being locked in a room shouldn’t be the thing to break me, but it might if it’s for much longer.
How’s Lucca? Is he allowed to write in the book? Corrik didn’t say. He had to leave on a mission and now I’m feeling some of what you must have when you couldn’t go with Father and had to stay home with me.
Tell everyone I say hi as well.
Lots of love,
Tristan.
Finally, I hear the opening of locks opening, and my heart lifts in anticipation, but it’s Corrik’s twin, Ditira.
She’s nearly as tall as Corrik and almost as muscled albeit in a more feminine way.
Her hair is long and blonde, tied on top of her head, and then wound into a tight ponytail, with streaks of purple, like Corrik’s used to have.
She looks fierce. I haven’t seen her fight in battle, only to help me practice, but I know she must be phenomenal on the field. “Hello, Tristan,” she says.
“Hello Ditira,” I respond, and attempt to make my Elvish curl as nicely around the words as hers does. I can only assume she has come to tell me bad news about Corrik, or Corrik would be here himself. I’m sure the worry is written on my face.
“Corrik sent me. He won’t be back tonight.”
“Any idea when he will be back?”
Her lips turn down. “No. I’m sorry Tristan, it could be awhile. Days? Weeks? We’re not sure.”
My heart sinks to my gut. Selfishly, I know this means me, alone, for a lot of the time. But that’s not the only thing I’m churning about. This sounds dangerous, what if Corrik doesn’t come back?
“He will return, Tristan. It’s a rescue mission.
Several children were taken from the surrounding villages.
Alrik wanted him on the case because he’s good at location magic.
Originally, he was to locate the children and send the army in, but it’s proved difficult.
He’s staying on the case until its seen through.
He had to head into the Unbroken Mountains. ” Her voice is dark.
That sounds bad. But like the warrior I am, I accept what he has to do for duty. Besides, I don’t want to think about it, especially when there’s nothing I can do about it.
“I understand, Ditira. I have much to do anyway, probably better without distractions,” I say, but Corrik being out there, where I can’t actively participate is a distraction. I should be beside him, watching his back.
“That’s the spirit. I will visit as often as I can, but Alrik has me busy too. Unfortunately, the same for Diekin. All our efforts will be put to this.”
I take a breath. “Very well. I will work hard on my husband’s behalf and do him proud so that when he returns, we can leave to make me an Elf.”
“Good. I am here for a short time, to relay the news—he wanted it to be me that told you where he was headed—I want to get back to him.”
She stays for a quick cup of tea, but too soon, she’s gone again and I’m alone.
Two months pass with no word from Corrik.
It gives me the chance to miss him again.
I miss waking up next to him and his fingers running through my hair, I miss his laugh and his giant presence.
I even miss his scolding voice and all the things he’d tell me not to do.
Yeah, figure that one out. I realize I live for finding and pushing against the boundaries and having Corrik yank me away from said boundaries.
I go deep into my studies, learning all I can to make the basic requirements, with plans of Corrik and I riding off into the mountains, where I need to go to become an Elf.
But when I reach month four, my endurance has long waned. I’ve learned what I need to and have been going over things on my own, only calling for my designated professors and Cupper when necessary.
The other change has been Alrik. He stops by to check on me often, which is not as endearing as it sounds.
And while Corrik thinks he’s taken a shine to me, I believe he thinks I’m the scum you would scrape off scum.
I hear the locks being undone, and it’s likely to be him; my tummy churns.
My other regular visitors, Diekin and Ditira are gone too.
For that part I’m glad. They are with Corrik and I want them to keep him safe.
I’m right. In he strides, bringing the cool air with him and his dark presence.
His hair is long and white, and he has a large scar on his face, which travels from temple to chin, which only serves to remind me of Baya, with his gorgeous eye scar that ran from his forehead to the bottom of his eye—he was so proud of that scar since he thought it was handsomely garish, plus he could show off what an accomplishment it was to keep his eye—he could have lost it.
Alrik’s scar is either one he’s chosen to keep since Elves can be healed in most ways or one he got from a time in which he was ghastly injured and could not be healed in time to prevent the scarring.
It makes him look deadly. Especially when his long white hair flourishes around him.
He’s like a being from the underworld come to life.
I haven’t attempted to use my Tristan charm on Alrik, figuring there’s no point, but since these meetings are becoming more frequent, I decide on being friendlier.
He does not pay me the same courtesy. He sits at my table without asking to be invited and stares at me for a length of time without speaking.
I would greet him, but I’ve been told that I’m meant to wait to address him until he deigns to speak.
I’m surprised he hasn’t told me I’m to prostrate before him.
He folds his hands on his belly. “Have you been attending to your studies?”
“Yes, Your Highness,” I tell him. “I’m working this very moment.” There isn’t much time for relaxing with Alrik as my keeper.
He grunts, which I think means good. He stares some more and then he lays it on me.
“Kathir, Corrik isn’t coming back. We can’t find him.
He went deep into the Unbroken Mountains, both Diekin and Ditira went to look, but they came out with his horse and no Corrik.
” He delivers the news with a heavy voice.
“What? No. We have to keep looking.”
He shakes his head. “Corrik wouldn’t want that. It’s dangerous and we could lose others. We’ve already given him longer than we would any other Elf in a similar situation. Mother and Father have decided it’s time to accept his fate.”
I know it’s not Alrik’s fault, but he gets my anger. “What? That’s crazy. Get me a horse. I will go look for him if no one else will.”
“Don’t be stupid. You’re not going off to go missing too.”
I detect the note of regret in his voice—he’d like to go too, but he won’t disobey Mummy and Daddy. Believe me, I get it, but some things are worth facing their disappointment over. “Leave me to mourn my husband in peace,” I say. I’m not ready to give up on Corrik, but I would like him to go.
“Very well.” He moves to leave.
But then I have a thought. A selfish one. “Wait. What will happen with me?” No more Corrik does not mean the end of the treaty. Markaytia has paid its price, which is me; however, without Corrik, there isn’t much reason for me to be here. I could be sent home.
He takes a breath and if I didn’t know better, I’d say he looked nervous.
Alrik is a rock; I’m pretty sure rocks don’t get nervous.
“Mortouge has promised to look after you and so we shall. Especially after losing you to Aldrien, Mother and Father were quick to a solution on what would be done with you to show Markaytia are honorable people. Therefore, it’s been decided, we will marry. ”
My blood goes cold. At least I can tell he doesn’t want it either. “To appease a sense of honor? I’ll speak to my parents and my uncle personally. Your honor will not be tarnished.”
“It’s not just that. Mother and Father are stricken with grief over Corrik’s loss. He loved you so, he had visions of you becoming an Elf and bringing great things to our people. They think it’s only right you stay in his honor and fulfill your destiny.”
Technically, I belong to Mortouge now, and they can do that, I just hoped they wouldn’t. “But why you? Aren’t there several thousand other Cyredanthems to marry?”
“Believe me, I’m just as excited to marry you as you are me.
Not to mention it’s a foolish choice. My marriage should be used to secure another alliance, which is part of the reason we’ve been waiting so long.
In any case, you’re supposed to stay in King’s Keep, and I am the only Cyredanthem available who can offer you proper status and protection.
In other words, I’m the only one who’s at the equivalent of Corrik.
In terms of status, I’m several realms up from Corrik and more than enough to satisfy the treaty.
When we marry, you will not simply be Prince Kathir, you will be Crown Prince Consort Kathir, and should I become king, you would be King Consort.
You’re receiving the great honor; I’m merely fulfilling a duty. ”
At least we both understand this is just duty. “Fine,” I say. I want to burst into tears, but I won’t let him see me cry. “When do I become Elf?”
“After the wedding, which will happen in Winter.”
“That’s another four months away. Do I have to stay up here? Couldn’t I be allowed into the palace?”
His brows press together. “Don’t be ridiculous.
You can’t leave here, not with everything going on.
My duty is to keep you safe. Securing you up here was one of Corrik’s better ideas, though I will be making some changes for extra security.
You will also need to learn proper Master-slave etiquette before I’m willing to be seen in public with you. ”
“Slave?” Slave is another kind of designation, like being submissive or brat.
On the brat-submissive spectrum, it’s brat, some versions of brat in between, submissive, some versions of submissive in between, and then slave, one of the deepest forms of submission.
Slave designation is much different from the kind of slave I was when I was in Aldrien.
That was enslavement, this is another context in terms of your internal wiring.
I’m not surprised. Alrik is dominant to the nth degree, of course, he’d need someone with a deep level of submissive energy. “I’m not slave, Alrik. I’m brat.”
“I don’t care, Tristan,” he says using my Markaytian name. “You will be what I tell you to be. You will learn to behave yourself as I say you must, or I will beat it into you. Do you understand?”
My lip wobbles, but I will not show any weakness. “Yes, Your Highness.”
He grunts again. “At least you are male. I could not fathom trying to fuck a human woman.”
Oh right, he’s going to want sex at some point. I will too for that matter. At least he’s not hard to look at, but it’s not what I want to think about right now. “I would like to be left alone, now. Please.”
He slams his fist on the table. “You do not dismiss me, I dismiss you.”
When I was a warrior, I feared nothing, perhaps foolishly, because at least I could fight to the death.
That bit of power gave me the control I needed, even if there was no guarantee I’d win any said battle.
But this defenselessness, being at the mercy of someone who has no mercy and bound by my dutiful morals, I’m consumed by anxiety.
I shake. “I’m sorry, Highness.” I keep my eyes bowed, showing submission.
“Better.” At least he used words. “Your schedule will be strict. I won’t have you embarrass me when I take you before the Lady of the Lake.
And there will be no more visitors. Corrik was foolish to allow that.
It’s too much traffic coming and going from this wing.
We already have all your instructors and the servants to keep tabs on.
That will also be reduced. I’ll have your meals delivered once per day. Magic can be used to keep the food.”
He continues to list new protocols, but I don’t hear him; I’ve already gone numb. Corrik’s gone, hope is gone, everything is gone. “Did they ever find the children?” I ask when he stops talking, needing to focus on something else.
He shakes his head. “No. They too have been pronounced dead. We assume that they went where we lost Corrik. If Corrik couldn’t make it out, they would not have made it out either.”
It gets harder to hold back and my heart breaks; a few silent tears bleed down my cheeks. Where we lost Corrik. I wish he would go. I have nothing more to say.
“I will allow you to stay here until after the wedding. Everything is already set up in this wing and I have no use for you in my chambers until you are Elf.”
Fine with me. “Of course, Your Highness.”
Finally, he slides out from his place at the table. “I will return tomorrow, but don’t expect me every day. I have better things to do.”
I love that he thinks I care if he comes or not.
He storms out but leaves all the darkness he brought with him. When I hear the last lock click shut, I fall apart. I don’t know anything for a while; I sob till my throat hurts and my eyes burn until I feel like I’m drifting out to sea in a fog.