Chapter Twenty Six
Rhael
She was already sitting at our table, that was the first mistake. Not hers, but mine.
I knew the moment I crossed the tavern threshold that the air was wrong. Salt lingered beneath the smell of stale ale and sweat, it filled my nose as I kept my head low beneath my hood.
The slums were as they always were, dirty, cramped and unkept, but I had expected that. It was why I had avoided them every chance I could. But this was a necessity.
Maeve Kiehl wore a black dress cut in severe, elegant lines, fabric drinking in the light and refusing to give it back. A cloak pooled around her shoulders, equally dark, equally deliberate.
Her pale blonde hair was braided down one shoulder, almost human in restraint. However, the green of her eyes screamed creature, deep that seemed to catch the light every time she tilted her head.
The reason for her appearance was obvious, she looked Elven, exactly the kind of woman she would have assumed I would desire. To draw me in and make me slip.
However, all it did was ignite an anger inside of me. One I was not sure I was ready to deal with, so I swallowed it like fire sitting lodged in my throat.
“I had wondered when you would reveal yourself, King Sorenthis,” she mused, her mouth curved faintly. Her voice was smooth as it threaded through the tavern’s murmur without rising above it.
The sound of it slid across my senses like a blade across silk. The power behind her words caused Elara to tense behind me.
“Impatient as always, Your Highness,” I responded, keeping my voice level as I tugged on the rope once, a silent command to Elara to keep her emotions under control. I had purposely tied the ropes loose, the knots looked intricate, but that was for display.
“How wonderful it is to meet your pet,” Maeve smiled, her hand gesturing to Elara, her eyes watching every move. It made my skin crawl, but I did not falter, could not falter, not yet. Not now when I was so close.
The tavern continued to move around us, though not naturally. Conversations halted as if people were trying to listen as we spoke, tankards hit the wooden tables too hard, several patrons watching whilst pretending not to. Humans were always so predictable.
“You brought her so openly, perhaps this appearance was not the correct one to choose,” she smirked, resting her hands on the table.
Her fingers were slender, human in appearance, but I knew what was rumoured to lay beneath the glamour.
Webbed skin, talons capable of ripping flesh from bone.
The Siren Queen was old, older than any of those of us who ruled on land, save for the vampires.
“I asked for a meeting, you agreed.” I replied, keeping my tone flat, as if she was boring me with her comments.
Although, she was right. I knew she had chosen her current glamour based on what she believed I desired.
But desires changed, the elven appearance no longer pulled me in the way it once had.
“I do worry that such a pretty thing would be a distraction for you Rhael. How can you focus when such a delectable thing remains unclaimed?” Maeve purred, her voice carrying through the very heart of the tavern, her eyes fixated on Elara. The one place I would not allow myself to look.
The Siren Queen was right, she was my distraction, everything about the small human sat at my side drew me in, changed me. Even when I had tried to avoid her entirely. Not that I would ever give that information to a woman whose attitude changed with the tides.
“She is where she needs to be, I thought a pretty face would ease your willingness to negotiate.” I replied, my lips curling into a snarl. Feeling the shadows in the room draw closer, my wings itching to be unfurled from my back. I kept them closed, for now.
“You think a pretty face would convince me to spill more of my people's blood for your cause?” She laughed, tilting her head back causing a few strands of the braid to fall loose.
“She is to show you I am willing to cooperate,” I mused, letting myself ease back into a position of calm I did not feel.
“And tell me my Dearest King, what would you offer me in return for my help?” She asked, her hands now knotting on the table, slender fingers intertwining.
“Access to more of the oceans, perhaps closer to land so you did not have to choose the human slums as your preferred meeting place.” I offered, watching as water gathered along the ring of the table. The wood darkened beneath her resting hands.
The Siren Queen did nothing by accident, she had chosen the tavern for a reason, and not just because it was the closest land to her dwelling. The slums rotted near the edges of forgotten waterways, giving her power from old waters that still remembered the sea.
“You offer me what should already be mine.” She smirked, the anger wound so tight in her voice it could have coiled like a snake. I leant forward, anger was something, an emotion that I could use.
“Something which you do not already own,” I smiled, feeling some sense of ease. Extracting any emotion from her meant I was winning in this game. At least for now.
“So, you bring such a breakable little object for me to refuse, for what? Your enjoyment? Shall I remind you of how powerful I truly am King of the Fae?” she questioned, her tone rising without shouting.
It was moments before I felt the room tilt. The lantern nearest to us flickered blue, the smell of salt thickened within the air. I felt the pull, but it was not aimed at me. Instead, she aimed it at the mortals. At Elara.
I felt her spine straighten beside me as she tried to resist. Maeve's power was connected to water, but that didn't mean it was limited. Even blood could be bent to her will.
I did not move or try to intervene, no matter how much it pained me to feel Elara struggle, to hear her breath become shorter as she tried to resist the urge to cry out in pain.
“You hold well,” she smiled at Elara, the smile sick and twisted as I watched still in silence.
“I am not yours to test.” Elara answered, her voice ground out as she took a deep breath into her lungs.
I could feel the relief pulsing off her in waves but still I did nothing.
I should have told her to not intervene, but part of me enjoyed seeing her defiant streak aimed at someone other than me.
“Careful little human,” she warned, levelling her gaze.
“I thought this was neutral ground?” Elara asked, her voice steady. It almost sounded as if she was challenging the queen without a care in the world and I had to bite back the smile that formed on my lips.
“You believe the slums to be neutral?” Maeve asked, raising an eyebrow. A laugh escaping her throat that should have never emerged from a living being's throat.
“It is not yours.” Elara retorted, her tone flat, simple. Stating a fact rather than entertaining an argument.
“Rhael. I suggest you remind your pet that she is not a part of this negotiation.” Maeve hissed her eyes fixed on Elara as if she was imagining tearing her head clean from her shoulders.
“So, what is it that you want to help me Maeve, since you have refused my offer?” I asked, leaning forward once more, drawing back the attention to me.
“Perhaps I should take your pet. Teach her what it truly means to be owned,” she offered, her mouth turned into a cold cruel sneer which caused anger to threaten to erupt inside me once more.
The idea of anyone touching Elara, taking her from me, turned me into a creature I thought I had long since buried.
“What do you want that I can offer, Maeve?” I asked again, firmer this time. Making it clear we were now negotiating, not making threats.
“I want what is rightfully mine, the waters. Not some section you have decided to lend me.” Maeve replied, her tone back to the cool unbothered melody of before.
“I cannot offer what is not mine to give, there are other kings who would need to welcome you to their borders” I stated simply, my fingers running over the edge of the tankard still full sat before me.
“So, you offer me scraps, whilst your pet gets the whole meal?” she demands, her hands flat on the table now. Her eyes were watching me with fire.
Around us humans trembled without understanding why. One sailor had sunk to his knees, another stared blankly at nothing, lips moving soundlessly. All of them trapped in her thrall.
“I thought we agreed she is not part of this conversation. I am offering you an alliance. A way to put the vampires back in their place” I argued, trying to keep my stance clear.
“And where is my place, King of the Fae? Beneath you and the other land kings, doing your bidding for so little reward?” She asked, her words becoming harsher. More clipped.
“You have my terms Maeve, help me and I can offer you more access to the waters which I control. The others you will need to negotiate yourself.” I tried to reason with her. Offering her something, however even as the words left me I could tell they fell on deep ears.
“Well then, I thank you for your time and I shall consider your offer. But I warn you Rhael Sorenthis, I will come for your pet, and when I do, I will give no warning, alliance or not.” She whispered, rising from the table with effortless grace, her hands now back by her sides, fiddling with the lace of her dress.
“If you come for what is mine, then our alliance will be void,” I told her, my voice steady but the threat clear.
“I will remember that Rhael. Your preferences have changed it seems. Although I will warn you, a human queen will only end in heartbreak. And we know how that ends for you,” she whispered as she turned on her heel. Exiting the tavern without even a look back.
I felt the whole room let out a collective breath. People return to their conversations as if nothing happened. Which I supposed was a blessing. Human minds could not always comprehend the magic of other creatures, they would not remember the pain they felt, or the way their minds had gone blank.
I remained still for several seconds, Elara’s bound wrists twitching beside me. The rope felt pointless now. I loosened it, reaching across her lap until it fell away entirely. We had played our cards.
“You should not have answered her.” I whispered not moving back, my chest pressed against her shoulder.
“She was speaking about me.” Elara answered as if the statement solved all problems. Her face turning to mine, her eyes held no fear, only resolve. Those eyes threatened to pull me in and drown me just as the Siren had promised.
“If she comes for you, I mean it, she will face me first,” I whispered, the tavern feeling almost smaller now. More fragile.
The slum had resumed its rhythm, tankards lifting, conversations filling the small space. But my world still lingered with the smell of salt. It was no longer about games, old battles or quarrels. It was Elara. Solely and completely Elara.
The Siren Queen was right, I was fated for disaster.