19. Chapter 19
Chapter 19
I nside the palace, Imani found Esa talking to Sid at the bottom of the stairs. She tried to slip away unnoticed, but much to her dismay, Esa gave him a curt goodbye and fell in step beside her.
Still spooked, a conversation was the last thing Imani wanted right now. Too many things had taken her off guard in the brief introduction to the Niflheim royal family. She should be steadfast in staying far away from these princes.
Esa eyed Imani’s trembling hands. “You seem nervous.”
Imani swallowed hard. “The princes are not what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
“Savage shifter breeds, not smart enough to tell their head from their arse.”
Esa snorted. “I’m sure it’s what they want people to think. Or, at least, they’re not interested in proving it wrong. Only a fool would underestimate them.”
“Both are strong with magic,” Imani said. “I heard a rumor most Illithianas lack brands for a ruling family.”
“I heard the same. Saevel has enough, though—enough to be named the heir apparent, anyway. But Kiran, he’s powerful. Especially as a half-breed.”
“Interesting,” Imani hummed. So, Kiran was half-shifter and half-elf, but Imani was sure his dominant breed had to be his elven side.
“His magic behaved strangely.” Imani rubbed her chest. “It’s like he could influence my signature.”
Esa’s brows rose in genuine surprise. “Someone said Kiran has ways of controlling people and influencing them. There are so many rumors, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he could compel magic signatures—rare, but it’s possible. Could have something to do with him being a half-breed.” Esa glanced around before continuing with a grave expression as her voice dropped. “Many people highly suspect Kiran is a twelve-mark.”
Tension passed between them. A day ago, Imani would have laughed at such an outrageous statement. But now she didn’t know what to believe.
He might be.
“What else do you know about the Niflheim princes?”
Once they rounded a corner toward their rooms, Esa continued, “Kiran’s father despises him. He wanted his last child to be a female elf.”
“What could be that awful about him having a male elf instead?” Imani asked, incredulous at someone ever despising their twelve-mark child.
“Any son whose dominant breed isn’t a shifter is a disgrace—weak comparatively. The king has plenty of sons but no daughters. A female elf would have made a beautiful—and useful—addition to his brood,” Esa explained.
“Weak is the last word I’d use to describe the man I saw outside,” Imani muttered.
“He’s well-bred, to be sure, but with his elven side more dominant, even a twelve-mark would be an unimpressive shifter, at best. Worthless offspring in the king’s eyes.”
“That’s … that’s insane.”
“Runs in the family, I guess.” She shrugged. “Magnus and his sons aren’t known for their restraint, and Kiran is the maddest of them all.”
“But with a powerful father, he should still be able to shift into something . Half-breeds get powers from both parents, even if his dominant breed is his elven side.”
“Yes, they say he’s a serpentine shifter whose snake form—rumors claim—is a true horror to behold. Hence the title of Prince of Snakes. But it’s nothing compared to his brothers’ and the king’s shifted forms.”
“I thought the name was because he was a slippery bastard.”
“Well, that, too.” Esa paused. “But the Serpent Prince is smart. He knows the king won’t kill him as long as he uses his cock often enough and controls their magic.”
Imani scoffed. “Why is it worth anything to the king?”
“Ah, well, the king still wants a well-bred female elf. For decades, they’ve needed to strengthen ties with their elf populations, and things are only worsening. A granddaughter would help make alliances.”
“I’m sure Prince Kiran is more than happy to oblige,” Imani mumbled. “I assume he hasn’t been successful?”
“Not for lack of trying, or at least pretending to try for his father’s sake. But he probably needs his heartmate to have children, like most of your kind. Who knows? This is all gossip and pure speculation.” Esa waved her hand dismissively.
“Does Saevel have a mate?” Imani asked, referring to the Niflheim heir apparent, trying to remain nonchalant.
“I have no idea. No one’s mentioned one,” Esa said carefully, shooting her a sharp sideways glance. “Even if he found his heartmate, it’s rare for an Illithiana to bind to one, as it requires sharing power and being monogamous.”
They walked quietly for a few moments.
Pretending to be Meira put her on dangerous ground, but she might need to do something out of character and sleep with one of the princes to get what she wanted.
As if reading her mind, Esa broke the silence.
“I would be cautious about getting into bed with either of them, if it’s what you’re thinking about,” Esa said when they reached their rooms. “Both princes have enjoyed whores since crossing the border. Nasty stories from this past week are circulating. They like it rough.”
Imani glared down her nose at Esa. “I can handle rough.” She didn’t care that Meira wouldn’t have said anything of the sort. Imani’s desire to get to Niflheim was overwhelming; she’d do almost anything.
Grabbing her arm, Esa stopped them both. “Sleep with them if you want. I’m the last person who’d make the mistake of underestimating you, but this ‘diplomatic honor?’ You should avoid being chosen for the ascension assessments. They are a death sentence.” She paused. “If you know what’s good for you, you should stay away from them altogether.”
Her friend would be disappointed.
“If you were desperate for something, and they could give it to you, would you stay away?”
Esa cocked her head to the side, thinking. “Exactly what I thought you’d say, and we understand each other perfectly. A summons will be waiting in our rooms to be ready at dawn when the Niflheim princes will choose their witches for the assessments. They want the most powerful specimens to participate, and it won’t only be your magic and markings dictating who they pick.”
Turning on her heel, Esa left Imani alone in the hallway, confused. How did she know so much about tomorrow’s events?
Imani only slept about half the night and spent the early morning hours restlessly perfecting her appearance.
Her chest and stomach ached with the tug of hunger, the need. She’d slept with Tanyl, but being around the Niflheim princes yesterday had woken something inside her. Maybe it was simply being around an unmated male elf, but she’d never felt this way before.
Her guilt also worsened by the hour.
She read and reread Meira and Dak’s last letter repeatedly as the sun rose. They loved and missed her and couldn’t wait for her to return. The shop wasn’t doing well. Meira had to pick up more shifts in the kitchen. She hoped Imani would soon be home to help train Dak. His magic had begun to manifest, and she was too overworked to do much about it herself. On top of it, Fen had taken a chosen mate, and while she didn’t mention it beyond the one sentence, Meira was devastated.
We aren’t a family without you , Meira had written.
Guilt shredded Imani’s insides, thinking about those words.
To be chosen by the Niflheim princes would be a betrayal of the worst kind to Meira, but she couldn’t let this chance slip away. Imani was desperate to find a way to the Drasil. Besides, finding the wand would do more to help her family than simply returning home.
Esa and Imani walked silently to the main ballroom. The guilt intensified into a pang of pressure pressed down on her chest. She rubbed between her breasts, where her cleavage was on display to its fullest in the emerald dress her sister had made for her. She was racked with guilt and on edge about being chosen and passing the first assessment, which was set to take place immediately.
Conversation filled the room. If she thought there were a lot of apprentices in the capital before, it was nothing compared to all the thousands of master witches of the Essenheim Kingdom filling the room now. Many of them knew each other, too. All of them were there to compete in the assessments. The master witches had already passed their assessments, but they could be retaken by those wishing to become archmage witches.
Esa kept her eyes ahead but leaned closer to Imani. “Of course, you wouldn’t listen to me. You’re trying to get chosen, aren’t you?”
“We both want the same thing.”
“Indeed, we do. I have business in Niflheim.” Esa’s tone brooked no more conversation on the subject.
Imani was curious to know what business, but Esa’s secrets were her own, as Imani’s were hers.
Esa gave her a pointed once-over. “You look good—really good. I’m glad you let go of some glamour. You feel like a High-Norn female for the first time since I met you. Gods, you even smell different.” The pixie paused. “You’re being smart. We’re not going to survive this with our raw magical talent. I am curious about the first assessment today.”
Imani agreed and was glad she’d trusted Esa’s advice. Her entire appearance this morning was on purpose, and her illusion was the lightest it’d ever been since she had come to the palace. She wanted to appear like the perfect High-Norn. While she kept her soul draw simmering low, she was prepared to let it out in full force if she needed to manipulate the Niflheim princes.
The mystery of the first assessment lingered in her mind and made her jittery. She could rely on her physical combat skills as a collector, but magical combat was a different story, and she wasn’t remotely prepared for it, even with the progress she’d made with Esa and the Order. Worse still, keeping her shadows and alteration magic in check under pressure would require intense focus. She couldn’t allow any slipups if she wanted to continue the Meira ruse, especially with her shadows as unpredictable as they were.
“I don’t see Ellisar or Gorre anywhere,” Esa muttered darkly. “It seems my sentinel and yours aren’t interested in obeying the Royal Order or the Crown.”
No surprise there.
More than a hundred thousand High-Norn elves lived in the Draswood, but the likelihood Imani would meet any remained low. As expected, they’d deliberately chosen to ignore this mandate.
Elves living in the Draswood enjoyed the freedom, safety, and protection the Aowyns never had in the Riverlands. Practically as magically powerful as a monarch, the high sentinel of the Norn elves ruled his territory like an independent kingdom.
Until yesterday, Ellisar was the only other witch alive rumored to be a twelve-mark, and the Draswood city of Vathis was as impenetrable as Stralas itself, especially to uninvited outsiders. Imani spent the first decade of her life in the massive city in the center of the forest and knew firsthand how treacherous and disquieting the woods surrounding Vathis could be.
Only the Norn understood the Draswood’s secrets, a powerful magical entity on its own. But it didn’t mean it was less dangerous to them. Her fingers instinctively brushed over the hidden black scarring on her cheek.
Attacking and invading the Norn elves would be utterly foolish of the Crown with the escalating southern conflict.
Imani didn’t know about the high sentinel of the sprite pixies. If Gorre was like Esa, he had probably laughed when they had summoned him. But he couldn’t offer the same protection as Ellisar. Hundreds of pixies were in the room.
Nervous energy thickened the air. People shuffled their feet back and forth, some wringing their hands. Even experienced, powerful witches’ eyes flicked around, taking in the competition.
The First Witch instructed them to arrange themselves by breed, then low, common, and high-bred. There were few low and common breeds, as most magic was gifted to the high-bred. Almost everyone was a high breed of some kind.
The two shifter groups—the leonines and satyrs—took up half the space in the center of the room, with the two nymph breeds—naiads and leimoniads—assembling behind them.
Both pixie breeds—sprites and trow—were scattered around the room’s edges, including Esa. Most sprite pixies had moth-like wings, beige with bold, russet accents and black-tipped edges, while the trow pixies looked delicate and rose-colored, shimmering with pale green dots at the apex.
Some kept theirs tucked up tight against their backs, but others, like Esa, left them out, floating effortlessly behind them as the edges furled and unfurled. With a whoosh , a sprite pixie released her wings. Though not as vibrant or lively as a trow’s, their softness and the graceful way they danced in the air made them entrancing to watch.
All had blue hair, and none were friendly to each other. Indeed, it appeared to be a veritable glare fest. Imani remembered Esa had said pixies were aggressive and had no loyalty to each other like other breeds.
Lore and Esa ignored each other but stood close. Before Imani lost them in the crowd, the male pixie pressed his hand to her back and moved her closer to him. Esa let him without a word.
After a turn around the room, Imani finally spotted three male elves standing in the back with severe expressions. Imani assumed at least Master Selhey would be there, but her mentor wasn’t with them. It struck her that this was the most she’d been around her kind since leaving home.
The men narrowed their gazes as she approached. They didn’t bother to hide their surprise at the sight of her.
The male elves were far taller than Master Selhey and strikingly masculine compared to her form. Yet, with silver hair, blue eyes, and shimmering pale complexions, they were unmistakably her kind. Magic rolled off their signatures, and when they reached her, the closeness of her kin made her want to cry.
Still, Imani could sense an undercurrent of worry emanating from all three men. Worry for her .
Desperate to end the uncomfortable moment, Imani pressed her hands together on her chest and bowed a formal greeting.
They responded similarly, and then one moved closer and murmured a question to her in rapid Elvish.
Grasping the basics of Norn Elvish still, some familiar words jumped out to Imani.
Was she here alone?
It wasn’t accusatory. He was genuinely concerned and shocked to find an unmated female elf alone here. Now their reaction made sense. They could probably smell she was unmated.
Nodding, she switched to the common tongue and explained how she had grown up in the Riverlands.
Their concern lessened, but a swell of confusion, sympathy, and sadness emanated from them.
Imani bit back a snap. She didn’t need pity and especially didn’t want it in front of the Niflheim princes. She had her magic to protect her and wanted to appear strong in front of them.
Meira would keep her composure, and Imani would, too. She smothered those emotions back down to where they belonged.
They accepted her explanation, so she told them about her home and how her grandmother had been a high naiad witch from a southern border village in the Riverlands.
For a few moments, the conversation flowed easily. Each of the other elves lived outside the Draswood, as well, with their non-elf heartmates. It made Imani realize how rare a female elf sighting was these days when she’d only met four Norn elves since leaving home, and all of them had been males.
In a breath, one elf jerked his chin toward the open door, whispering to another. While Imani didn’t understand the words, they relaxed.
With confused, pleading eyes, the leader approached her. “Our apologies for our response earlier. It was our mistake we assumed you were alone.”
“Oh, I am alone …” Imani trailed off as a hush moved through the room. She whipped her head toward the door, and her mouth closed mid-sentence. Except for a few murmurs, it was deadly silent.
The Niflheim princes were here, and Kiran’s eyes were nearly luminous with his fury as they stared directly at Imani and the other elves. His magic signature snaked out toward them threateningly.
And the male elves took several steps back from her.