51
Thanks to the endurance of the elven horses, we rode for hours across the green, tree-dotted plain, lush slopes, and hills rich in vegetation.
As the reddish disc began to vanish behind the mountains west of Lake Caran, we reached the edge of the coniferous and broadleaf forest covering the Aroron Mountains.
Without any shame, I let tears stream down my face as we walked through the trees, breathing in the woodland scent of beech trees at the top of my lungs and filling my eyes with the bright green of fresh grass, studded here and there with small white and yellow flowers.
Araton positioned his stallion beside my horse and gently squeezed my wrist with affection. “You’re home, Sister,” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion and guilt.
I smiled at him, my chin quivering, and he wiped my cheek with the back of his fingers.
As we crossed the stone arch, draped in a climbing plant with indigo flowers and marking the entrance to Aegel, I had to clamp a hand over my mouth to hold back an incredulous sob of happiness.
And then, there it was.
Built at the base of the mountain, the capital shone like a true sunset star among the treetops thanks to the sunlight reflecting off the pointed glass roofs of the natural stone dwellings.
We crossed several wooden and glass bridges, under which streams flowed, where little elves played with paper boats. Slowly, my people started to come out of their homes and shops, filling the grassy streets with joyful shouts to greet me.
I loosened my grip on the reins to stretch my arms down and let people touch or kiss my hands, smiling at them wholeheartedly.
“Praise be to the Spirits!” they shouted. “The princess has returned!”
“May the Spirits bless you!” they told my brother.
“Long live Princess Nauriel!” another yelled.
We ascended the mountainside with the crowd, dressed in light, multicolored robes, and reached the high-ranking sector. There, the nobles observed from their elegant balconies, tossing velvety petals at us before joining the citizens’ parade.
I couldn’t stop smiling, feeling grateful to everyone who had prayed for me. However, I also sensed Amlach’s gaze stabbing the back of my neck like a red-hot needle. His resentment was so strong that it felt as if he wanted to set fire to my clothes to reach my skin and burn it away layer by layer.
I wanted to turn toward him.
To show him that that us was still there.
To show us both that there was still hope.
But something within me—something I despised with every fiber of my being—restrained me.
Arriving at the small square from which the majestic stone-and-glass bridge extended toward the palace on the opposite mountain, Araton and I bade farewell to the people and continued onward with Amlach and the soldiers.
I turned to admire the tall waterfall on our right, half a mile away, and the rainbow created by the last rays of the sun within it. Then I looked back ahead to take in with my gaze the buildings that composed the palace . . .
But my attention was drawn to the white figure standing halfway across the bridge.
Before I knew it, I spurred my horse to gallop and close the distance between us. Without even pulling the reins, I jumped down and threw myself into my father’s wide-open arms.
Due to the breeze that constantly blew here on the bridge, carrying a few waterdrops from the waterfall, my cloak wrapped around us like a blanket, while the long bell-shaped sleeves of the king’s tunic fluttered behind me like wings.
“Thank you, Spirits, thank you,” he repeated, pressing kisses to my hair, cheeks, and forehead.
“It’s all right,” I wept, rubbing my face against his chest. “It’s over now. I’m back.”
“No.” He framed my face in his soft hands, his sapphire eyes brimming with lacerating pain.
“It’s not all right. I let anger and bitterness take over me when Araton told me what you had done.
I abandoned you. I abandoned the fire of my heart.
” He wiped my tears with his thumbs, crying as well.
“I should never, ever have punished you for your choice, as you only proved the kindness of your spirit. You have demonstrated to elves and humans alike what an exceptional queen you will be.” He smiled sadly.
“Much, much greater than me.” He gathered my hands and bent down to kiss my knuckles.
“I will never forgive myself for everything you had to endure because of me. Still, I beg for your forgiveness, my daughter.”
I gently stroke his cheek, my voice trembling from the lump in my throat. “You have it, Father. You will always have it.”
We hugged once more, but the clatter of hooves on the stones forced us to separate and compose ourselves.
I dabbed my tears with the sleeve of my frock coat and sniffled to stop myself from crying, then I turned around.
The horses halted a short distance away from us. Only Araton and Amlach dismounted. Amlach moved a few steps forward toward the king and me, displaying a cocky attitude, to say the least. My brother followed him like a shadow, his hand resting on his dagger’s hilt.
When Amlach stopped, my father folded his hands on his lap and held Amlach’s defiant stare stoically for a few moments before shifting his gaze to Araton. “Is it all done?”
“Yes, Father.”
“Very well.” The king beckoned the soldiers with a crook of his fingers. “Release him.”
The soldier who had Amlach’s horse reins tied to his saddle quickly dismounted and obeyed promptly, returning then to his companions.
Amlach rubbed his slightly bruised wrists. His gaze shifted to me. It was only for a moment, but it was so piercing that it triggered a deep anguish within me.
As if something horrible was about to happen.
Then he went back to look at my father, giving him a polite nod that, nevertheless, revealed all his hatred. “King Erech,” he greeted arrogantly.
Father nodded back solemnly, replying in the common tongue. “King Amlach.”