Chapter 5 Rhianelle #2
Dread coils in my chest whenever I think of Blaire, wherever she may be.
I distract myself by rubbing the soft fur over my mount’s golden coat.
The Noctral neighs at the gesture, the black horn on top of her head glinting purer than a newborn star.
What would have taken an ordinary horse weeks and months to travel through forested hills and rivers will only take the Noctrals until the sun sets.
A creature blessed by the Goddess of Light and can tear through the fabric of time itself.
Less than two hundred of their population remains, and we are taking half of them with us on this journey.
I wave back to the crowd that is praying for my safe passage to the In Between. This convivial commotion reminds me of the triumphant cheer they offered my mother whenever she went for battle.
The cheer becomes deafening the moment Rainer strides in on his Noctral.
The Silver Stag of the East is looking glorious in his battle suit, the perfect embodiment of a warrior from the Noble House of Volundr. His very presence commands respect.
He has earned that along with the adoration from the people.
A war hero.
No one questions what he does. Not even when he has two dozen assassins tailing behind his back. He canters his steed close to mine.
My heart constricts in my chest. “You don’t have to come, Uncle.”
Despite the appearances he puts up, I know Rainer is not in the best of health.
“The last time those bastards sent my niece on a mission, she never came back,” Rainer says without feeling.
“It’s too convenient the way they fished you out of these walls.
” His gaze is locked on the three Aldarelfs at the helm of our small procession.
The Aeonians have appointed Lord Ctibor, Lady Tierra Elwood, and Commissioner Eamon to be their voice in this mission. “They’re sending you to your death.”
I wince at the brittle words. But this is something that I must do.
As my uncle continues his drivel, I take another long look at my kingdom, my people. I will not let the streets of Aelfheim be covered in ash and blood.
Darstan and Garrett flank my mount the moment Rainer leaves me for the company of his Grimsbane. Immense guilt still haunts me for what I did to Lord Clayborne’s sole heir. I study the beautiful red hood and cloak of his house over the dark riding leather of the royal guard.
He catches me staring and flashes me a grin.
“You can’t inherit your father’s seat, you can’t marry without my blessings, you can’t even speak without permission,” I confess, my voice breaking. “I feel like I’ve stolen a life from you.”
“I have never been happier,” he chuckles softly, his broad smile lighting up his emerald eyes. “Come and look at this.”
My eyes slowly follow the direction he points.
“That stone marks the furthest I’ve ever ventured out in my patrols.” His voice bright and careless. “We’re fulfilling our dreams, Your High—Rhianelle.”
A small smile tugs my lips over his words and at his slip. I insist on him calling me by my name outside of formal occasions.
It’s only after the tall walls of Atlas have vanished behind us that a sudden fear takes hold of me. The outside world is a beautiful and dangerous place.
The Savage Fae rules these lands, I remind myself.
Every beast in the continent answers to them; from the tiniest termites to the wyverns of Eastfall. They can speak to the waters and wind in a way no other creature can.
Our envoy speaks in a hushed tone and small voices. Even Garrett grows quieter the farther south we travel.
“The Veil is just beyond the tree lines,” the scout reports to Darstan. The pathway to the human world is under a neutral border between Aelfheim, Avalon, and Myrkheim.
“We’re in fae territory. Pull up your hood,” Aelfric warns, as soft as a midnight whisper. “I need to speak to the Red Road Sentinels for permission to set camp.”
I glance at the scarlet gravel beneath my Noctral’s hooves. In days of old, when the relationship between our realms was golden, elven merchants would travel through this fae-made route to the far reaches of the land to trade.
Pebbles on the ground vibrate at the arrival of something massive.
The marrow in my bones grows cold when a gargantuan lizard peers its head from the bushes.
A black armored rider rests on the saddle on top of its neck.
He doesn’t carry a single weapon on him, not even a knife, and yet the threat of his presence remains.
This is one of them. The Savage Fae of Avalon.
Fear knots in my gut at the sight of Eirik’s royal insignia on his shoulders; the Black Rose of Death.
The Aeonians told us the fae were born without hearts.
I half expected a monster when he removed his helm, but the male is almost as beautiful as Garrett, with gleaming dark hair and tanned skin.
He briefly scans our envoy with an amused expression.
“Wait here,” Aelfric mutters softly, dismounting from his Noctral. My knight approaches the fae slowly with raised hands. A strong urge to pull him back to us rises in me. I can hardly hear their conversation over the pounding in my ears.
My muscles tense when the reptile flicks its tongue over Aelfric, sizing him up and down curiously. It can crush my knight’s skull between those serrated teeth.
But the worst of my swirling anxiety never happens.
The fae clicks his tongue, turning his mount to leave.
His gold-flecked onyx eyes fall on me and my heart lurches.
He gives me a warm smile; one I fail to return because I thought he was baring his teeth.
My gaze lingers on the apples he feeds to the lizard, on the gentle strokes he places on the reptile when it wags its tail like a dog.
This is the villain we were raised to hate?
Garrett circles closer at my disquiet. I hear his musing as my throbbing heartbeat quiets, “Where’s the savagery in that guy?”