10. Amber
Chapter ten
Amber
W ell, I really did it. Phoebe was right—I seriously should have settled for a lawyer.
Somehow, I not only ended up essentially being held hostage in a death-obsessed elven forest, I had also apparently ended up shoved between the king and his brother—who arguably should have been king. While I knew nothing about elven politics, as far as I was concerned, Eldrin had one massive advantage over the king—he had actually spent time with me. Unlike my future husband.
And to make things worse, I couldn’t stop thinking about Eldrin.
Oh, this was going to be a spicy pickle to get out of.
For the rest of the afternoon, as I settled for a late lunch in my rooms and prepared for the impending, important evening audience, I did my best not to think about Eldrin’s other advantages. The strong and elegant way he moved. The angle of his jaw and cheeks. The way he stared at me when I spoke, listening to everything I said. Really listening. The way I thought he moved closer to me when that elf snuck up on us, startling me and reminding me again that I was not safe in these woods, even if Eldrin’s warnings weren’t enough.
Nope, I didn’t think of Eldrin’s advantages at all.
At least the political debates distracted me from the fact that I was essentially in a gorgeous prison, the intricate carvings of my room’s windows and doors walking that fine balance between beauty and death. Based on the conversations Eldrin and I had on our way back to the palace, death was the consequence of their magic, and how these elves managed to obtain their long lives. Thus, their eventual mortality would be at the forefront of their minds, even fused to their bodies. Any elven child of the Darkening Woods was born with the reminder of the bargain their ancestors had struck in the form of their skeletal non-dominant hand.
“Are you in pain?” Siliana asked me, looking at my shoulder as she stood near me in my bedroom. Another long green dress was draped over her arms, which I assumed had something to do with the royal audience tonight. Though, the dress was essentially a shrub attached to skirts, and I had no idea what it was meant for. “The veinwart is known for providing painful bites.”
“I thought it didn’t harm elves. ”
“The poison doesn’t harm us to this extent,” Siliana corrected. “That doesn’t mean its fangs hurt any less.”
Siliana was obviously waiting for me to answer her question. “It’s not bad,” I assured her. “I’d let you know if it was worse.” The pain really wasn’t bad. The sting from bite itself was dulling, to the point I was mystified at how it had managed to heal so quickly. However, the eerie weight that seemed to have settled in my chest was another matter, matched with the chill that constantly worked its way under my skin. However I felt otherwise, no matter how well the bite healed, I was not cured. And I wouldn’t be unless I did what they wanted.
Siliana took a deep breath, as if she was restraining herself from saying something she’d reget, and then said, “Let me know if the pain becomes worse. We have remedies that will help.”
“I will. Thank you.”
She looked down at the garment she was holding and then back at me. Again, I was struck by the aching beauty of her features, the way she seemed to be a statue come to life. That was not an uncommon feature among the elves, but Siliana seemed painfully beautiful, even for them. “I am sorry, Amber,” she whispered. “You did not choose this, and I do not fault you for not trusting us.”
“What? Of course—”
She shook her head abruptly, cutting me off. “I can tell. I haven’t lived this long without being able to understand what people leave unsaid. And you’re wise, for not trusting us. I am sorry, Amber. We do need you for the barrier, but I wish it was someone who wanted to be here, someone who had a choice. And…I’m sorry that you’re becoming embroiled in whatever Vanir is plotting for Eldrin.”
“What do you mean?” My brow furrowed. Eldrin spoke some about their arrangement, but he didn’t make it sound like Vanir still wanted to harm him. At least, not immediately.
“I’ve said too much.” She took a deep breath. “The only other thing I will do is caution you to watch. Listen. I know you have no reason to trust me, but trust your instincts. When you meet the king—not to mention the rest of the court—you will understand what I mean.”
I nodded in acknowledgement when I realized Siliana really wouldn’t say more on the subject. What was going to happen tonight? What did she think that the king, or someone else, was going to do to me? At least Eldrin would be there, and I wouldn’t be entirely alone.
Matter apparently settled, Siliana moved as if awakening from a dream and went back to the task at hand—preparing me for meeting the king. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said, “but I selected a garment for you to wear tonight. If you don’t like it, I can find something else.” She held out the dress towards me, like she wanted me to take it.
“What? No. Wait, that is my dress ?” It didn’t quite occur to me until that moment that she absolutely intended for me to wear the “garment” that was on her arms. A garment I had hoped was for a statue.
“Of course.” She pursed her lips and chose that moment to drop the skirts to the ground, revealing the garment in its entirety. “I can choose something—”
“No. I just” –I shook my head– “I cannot believe that’s for me. It’s wonderful.”
I never saw another dress like it, to the point that I thought it was either a prop or something for an effigy when Siliana brought it in. Surely, such a creation couldn’t be meant for me.
The dress was made of dark green silk, long enough that the hem would surely touch the floor. Its neckline was cut in a square, low enough that my shoulders and chest would be rather bare. The bite from the veinwart would be visible on my shoulder, but that was no matter. Siliana told me they had ointments that would smooth its appearance if I wished to use them. And it was hardly like my bite was a secret at this court.
But that wasn’t the amazing part—the dress’s sleeves and neckline trim were made of a thick edging consisting of yellow flowers and green and red vines—real ones—hovering over the top, much like a thick fur. I was going to be wearing autumn itself to this audience.
“How are they intact?” I asked, pointing at the flowers. It was impossible that something crafted from living materials would be able to be constantly handled in such a manner, and it was especially impossible that they appeared so fresh.
“We have skilled craftsmen,” Siliana said, motioning to me to turn around. “Preserving life, staving off the appearance of death, that is something that our magic is meant for.” Still in awe, I did as she bid, unlacing my dress while I faced away. She had warned me earlier that I would need her help getting into tonight’s dress, and it appeared that she didn’t exaggerate. Thus, I would have to get over my initial shyness.
When the first touches of the cold silk hit my skin, I thought that, no matter what else I faced, I was well dressed tonight.
Hours later, after my hair was loosely styled, makeup applied, and that garment somehow placed around my body while remaining intact, I walked down the halls to where the king waited. Siliana did not come with me—she warned that this part I’d have to do alone. She had royal favor and was welcome to attend, but she said that this part would earn me more respect if I did it without her at my side. I suspected there were other reasons she wasn’t going to attend—perhaps she just didn’t want to. Lucky.
Alone, I trudged through the halls—those forbidding halls—where nature and death were displayed hand in hand, vines and leaves as much as part of the art as skulls. A monument to the fact that all beauty, even that of the long-lived elves, was fleeting .
I took the directed turns, and far too soon I came to the audience hall, where dozens, if not hundreds, of elves gathered together for the event. Hundreds, if not thousands of eyes turned to stare at me when I walked in.
I refused to wipe my sweating palms on the dress and instead focused on what was around me, namely, the spectacles that were the other elves’ outfits. I wasn’t the only one whose clothing took the word “natural” to extremes—some women wore dresses and skirts made with branches and fronds and nothing else. Others wore fabric seemingly crafted out of bright red leaves. One man wore a cloak edged with birch bark. All of this was seen in addition to the draping garments that were similar in cut and cloth to what I saw in the city with Eldrin. The court had its share of brocades, silks, and velvets, yes—and it also had so much more.
Eldrin. Where was he? He said he was going to come with me. He said he was going to be here. No such luck—I was still very alone.
Siliana told me that elves saved these types of garments for special occasions, which made sense. It would be hard to chop wood while wearing sticks. She also told me that the clothing could be even more dramatic, depending on the occasion. I had a hard time believing that it could be more than this .
I tried not to look at the parts of anyone that reinforced how I was the only human in this land. That was impossible—I was the only one in the hall who didn’t have pointed ears. I was by far the shortest, other than those who were obviously children. And more, every single one of the elves had a skeletal hand, a mark of their deal with death. Not that I needed reminding of that fact—as I traveled, the halls became even more grisly, carved with skulls, bones, ravens, and gargoyles. Gargoyles? Were they real too? Sigh. Probably. I heard rumors of them appearing in North Carolina, but there were so many rumors, so many pockets and creatures pressed upon our world, that it was impossible to tell fact from fiction most of the time.
When I stepped into the throne room, which was packed with elven nobility and enough pine boughs to open a pop-up holiday store on a Manhattan corner, I gasped. The hall’s architecture reminded me more of a cathedral than a palace, with its rising walls, balconies, and columns. Everything was done in the soft, swirling accents and forms that permeated the rest of the place. Except these accents and forms came with what could only be very real bones. Skulls, femurs, ribs, teeth, and more—all of them were used to decorate the walls, ceiling, and occasionally the floor. Three massive chandeliers hung from the ceiling, the candles shining through what were likely ribs arranged in a starburst pattern.
I took a deep breath. And another. And another. I wanted to ask Siliana about the bones I had seen in other parts of the palace. Were they real? I was afraid of the answer. Eldrin had warned me that I needed to keep my composure, that I couldn’t let anyone see that I was afraid. I would listen. Fear was weakness, and weakness invited predators, of all sorts. Thus, I would assume the worst so that I wouldn’t be surprised later—until I was told otherwise, I’d believe that these were the bones of humans who had angered the king.
Even after the initial moments passed, everyone was still staring at me. Everyone. Every move I made, every single movement, was watched like a hawk hunting its prey. And based on the sneers and eye rolls, few liked what they saw. Tears welled in my eyes. This was too much. I couldn’t do this.
The crowd rustled around me, and suddenly Eldrin appeared, bringing with him a steadying presence. I could breathe. Relax. Think. That is, before I really saw him.
Eldrin was dressed as fine as any of the nobles. His breeches were tight against his muscular thighs, giving me too much of a chance to admire what was hidden underneath. His green doublet was decorated with black gems and seemed to be embroidered with black feathers, and it carried some of the vines that were similar to what was on my own dress. A doublet that probably hid a sculpted core that was as strong as his legs. An unexpected heat worked through me, a desire to see and admire everything. Some of the elven men wore long draping open robes that revealed a long surcoat, but not Eldrin. What he wore, despite the layers, somehow left little to the imagination .
I swallowed. Hard. And remembered that we were far from alone here in this calcium-dense monument.
But he was here, with me. He was here. I could breathe.
He could help me.
“You look well,” Eldrin said formally, his posture rigid. He frowned at the bite on my shoulder, which Siliana’s cosmetics failed to cover perfectly.
“You…too.”
Long moments passed. Was I supposed to say something? Damn, I had no idea what I was supposed to say.
“Would you like to meet the king now?” he asked.
“He’s already here?” I looked around, seeing no one particularly distinctive in a sea of elves. Shouldn’t people be prostrating themselves or something if there was a king?
“Yes. He is on his throne, receiving guests.”
“Alright.” I shook myself. “Yes. I should meet him.” This wasn’t going to get any better the longer I waited. And from Eldrin’s nod, he seemed to agree. I followed Eldrin through the crowd, which didn’t quite part for us as dramatically as I expected, though a few people bowed to Eldrin and called him “Your Highness.” He moved confidently, acknowledging certain people with a bow of his head, and blatantly pretending that others weren’t there.
However, I wanted to crawl into a hole and hide. My skin prickled from the weight of everyone’s attention. It was oddly violating, like the elves were looking into the deepest parts of me, every secret laid bare. And there were so many eyes. If this was only a fraction of the court, the elven lands must’ve been massive. No wonder they were desperate to protect the sovereignty they still had. I had only been here a day, but I understood the elves more, my earlier anger shifting to the worlds’ decision to merge and not the people who came with it—they obviously didn’t want to be here, either.
And then, just when I was starting to get used to being inspected, I saw him. Vanir. King of the Darkening Woods. Lord of a Chair That Was a Carnivore’s Dream.
And my fiancé.
Once we approached the king, making our way through one last group of elves, I bowed—or tried to. My dress defied gravity, but I didn’t want to leave anything to chance. Eldrin bowed from his place next to me, far deeper than I managed. But the king didn’t seem insulted by my lack of spinal dexterity. In fact, he seemed curious, rubbing a strong chin that graced a face that was as angular as Eldrin’s and just as unnaturally beautiful. Though unlike Eldrin, this elf’s gaze carried no hint of kindness when he looked at me.
I had felt more amorous advances from that dishwasher.
And I now understood why Siliana told me to trust my instincts—every single one told me to run.
“Amber,” the king said in a heavy lilting voice. “Welcome to my court.”
I bowed again. “Thank you…Your Majesty.”
Was that the correct title? If it wasn’t, he didn’t seem to care, for he continued, “I am sorry that the way you have come to us has been so…unexpected. But I am sure we can as of yet make a good thing of an unfortunate situation.”
I tried not to squirm. The king’s voice reminded me of one guy from the East Coast that I had dated, who spent far too long lecturing waitresses for mispronouncing wines. He wasn’t a date for long. Regardless, that characteristic—egotistical and condescending—wasn’t attractive in my date, and it was not any more attractive in an elven king.
“Thank you for providing for my care,” I said. Really, thanking him was the least I could do. And he did provide for a means to save my life, since the spider was hardly his fault.
“No need,” the king said with a flick of his wrist. “I would be amiss if I did not care for my future wife. One who has so much to offer.” His eyes raked over me, and a smile curved on his lips. Whatever he found in me, he was pleased.
I wanted to put a potato sack over my head and hide in a closet.
“A true sign of your caring and your love would be to give her the antidote now,” Eldrin said. The crowd stilled. If we weren’t the center of attention before, we were now. The bite on my shoulder, which I so far managed to ignore, went cold, as if ice poured into my veins at the mere mention of the poison. Was the spider’s poison always this uncomfortable? Or did it somehow sense that people were talking about it, about how to get rid of it? Figured that something like this would be more magic than science .
The king frowned and he leaned to one side, gripping the throne’s arm with his skeletal hand. Bone rubbed against bone, the light grinding audible, as he remained silent. “Who are you to tell me what wedding gift is fit for our queen?” he finally asked.
Queen. He intended me to be queen ? Of here? Damn, it wasn’t some mistake.
“No one, Your Majesty,” Eldrin said with a stern bow. “Merely someone who does not see the need to postpone the inevitable. She will be your wife—how better to show her the care you will provide for her in the future?”
The king and Eldrin stared at each other. I didn’t know the full scope of what was happening, but I knew that this was a challenge about far more than me. The way the court gasped told me I was right.
Wasn’t Eldrin in danger from the king? What was he doing?
The king was Eldrin’s younger brother. Eldrin should have been king. The king had only reluctantly allowed him to stay. And here he was, prodding at that same monarch, seemingly with no fear of the consequences.
Vanir was gripping the throne arms so tight the bones in his right hand were visible. Guards stepped around the side of the room, their hands hovering over their swords’ hilts.
Somehow, the barely contained anger burning in the king’s eyes showed that something was restraining him, something was holding the king back from murdering his brother here and now. And then I noticed it, the subtle shifting in the room, elves moving—some behind Eldrin, some to stand near the king. It would take one word, one movement, for violence to erupt.
What Eldrin said was true—he did have too many supporters for the king to kill him outright. With the lands in chaos from the worlds shifting, Vanir needed to keep his court calm. And he couldn’t do that with Eldrin murdered.
But was all of this over me? No, not me. Not me at all. I was just a casualty, someone who had the misfortune of being placed in the middle of dueling royals. And I was someone who needed to try to stay alive, no matter what happened.
“Your Majesty,” I said, doing my best to execute a feminine bow. Vanir looked toward me, an eyebrow raised, while Eldrin didn’t take his eyes off the king. “You have honored me with your pledge. Please, let us not taint our first night together with such disagreements.” Thank goodness I had read a lot of fantasy novels and knew how to play the pleading princess when the need arose.
The king licked his lips and smiled. And then laughed, a cold sound that rang hollow in the hall. Everyone relaxed. Except Eldrin.
“Of course, my dear.” The king said. “You’re right, why ruin our first meeting with something so tedious? Please—enjoy this court. And soon, we shall have more time together.” He cocked his head. “I look forward to getting to know you better.”