53
“Half elf,” Araton corrected in Elvish, then spat on Amlach’s ankle boots.
Amlach dropped a challenging sneer in his direction, licking the bead of blood from the small cut at the corner of his lower lip.
My father glared at Araton, then commanded the soldiers on horseback in our language with authority. “You are bound by silence.”
For no one knew the King of Men was a half-elf, I deduced. That there had been another contamination.
“I . . .” An unbearable heat rushed up my neck, and I felt like the bridge was starting to sway. “I don’t . . .” I searched Amlach’s eyes for answers, allowing him to see the pain grow in mine. “I don’t understand . . . You . . . We . . .”
Father grabbed my hand to get my attention.
But I didn’t give it to him. My universe had narrowed to only Amlach and his eyes looking into mine, and to the invisible force pulling me inexorably toward him.
And toward him alone.
“ Nauriel,” Father called me vehemently, squeezing my fingers so tightly that the twinge broke my connection with Amlach.
Amlach frowned at my barely noticeable grimace of pain, his fists clenched so hard that his knuckles had turned white.
Suddenly, I was overwhelmed by the wild instinct to wriggle away from my father and run into Amlach’s arms. The instinct to growl at him to tighten his fingers around my throat, just as he was clenching them now, and possess me.
Here. On the glass balustrade. With the danger of making me fall into the rushing river.
Instead, I strived to suppress that sudden, inappropriate desire and focused on my father, who was peering at me with a hard expression.
He shot an almost-angry glance at Araton, then looked back at me.
“What you are about to learn will never have to leave this bridge. If the existence of a new half-blood comes to light, our people would turn against us. The Queen of the Witches would demand my head. And humans would feel entitled to invade our kingdom not for Calien’s Crystal, but to put their king on my throne. ”
I frowned, my heart thundering inside my chest. I took a deep breath and nodded, ready to face the truth.
In the common tongue, Father recounted solemnly, "Thirty years ago, while on a hunting trip, King Amlach II saw a young elf across the Glawar river attempting to catch fish to sell in her village. Enchanted by her beauty, the king crossed the bridge to approach her. The girl, so kind and naive, was deceived by his chivalry and”—he looked at Amlach from head to toe with disapproval—“good looks. However, when he tried to breed with her, she recognized him for the beast he truly was and desperately tried to push him away.” He paused, sighed heavily, and with restrained anger, concluded, “The king raped her, stealing her virtue.”
Horror spread across my face.
“Go ahead, King Erech,” Amlach said through gritted teeth. “If you want to tell my story, tell all that happened.”
A muscle twitched on my father’s square jaw. He remained silent for a long time, holding Amlach’s fierce stare, as if he wouldn’t be swayed by his provocation.
Eventually, he took a deep breath and, gravel-voiced, continued, “The girl came to beg for my help. After seeing how that animal had disfigured her to subdue her, there was only one choice I could make: End the life of the fetus the human had implanted in her womb as soon as I got the chance.”
I instinctively placed one hand on my belly with a small gasp.
Father noticed my distress, and his eyes grew slightly sad. “But she hadn’t come to me for that. She had come seeking protection for her . . . creature.”
The way he spoke that word with such contempt made me shudder.
“And you gave it to her, right?” I pressed my fingers into my stomach, glanced at Amlach for a moment, then looked back at my father. “If he’s here, it means you granted her plea.”
The king didn’t reply.
“ Tell her,” Amlach hissed.
Father’s expression grew as hard as granite. “No, Nauriel. I didn’t.”
Annihilated, I took a half-step back. My eyes quickly shifted to Amlach, who radiated such intense anger that it gripped my insides in a consuming grasp.
My father straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin to withstand not only Amlach’s aura but also my disappointment. “I had her locked up for her safety and our kind’s. I hid her away and took care of her for three months, without anyone knowing—including your mother.”
I slightly shook my head, unable to believe he had behaved so dishonorably.
“However, the young elf managed to escape,” he added. “But she made the mistake of running away to the Kingdom of Men. Of seeking refuge with the man who had violated her, believing he would want her and the child. And he did.”
I let out a small sigh of relief, thankful that the sovereign had repented and decided to make amends for his monstrous deed with an act of love.
“The king welcomed her into his palace in Leukós. He even married her, passing her off as a human. He kept her by his side until his son was born.” Father paused, creating a tremendous sense of tension. “Then he murdered her.”
“ He did not kill her!” Amlach roared, taking a menacing step forward.
Araton quickly moved his hand to the hilt of his dagger, but I only let him draw it a single inch before giving him a look so lethal that he froze, gazing at me in dismay.
Unfazed by my brother, Amlach kept his burning eyes on Erech and growled, “My mother took her own life after you denied her the chance to return to her people for years.”
Father inhaled brusquely, caught off guard.
“She was painfully unhappy among humans,” Amlach said, his deep voice filled with hatred. “And you even banned her from visiting her family’s village.”
My father briefly closed his eyes, as if he were carrying too much weight for his strength at that moment. Then he released a heavy sigh and wore an unyielding expression. “Unfortunately, she chose her fate the moment she left our kingdom.”
“She was one of you!” Amlach yelled. “And you abandoned her out of fear of what? That I was like that guy you all defeated together a thousand years ago? Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I’m just an ordinary man with peaked ears.”
“That is for sure,” the King of the Elves said in a deadly tone. “Otherwise, I would have come in person to slaughter you in the cradle.”
“Father!” I shouted in shock.
A scornful half-smile touched Amlach’s lips. “And you say we humans are the villains.”
That sentence felt like a dagger to my heart.
For my father, it was simply the signal that the meeting had ended. He nodded to the soldiers, who then directed the horses toward us. “Escort the King of Men to the quarters that have been prepared for him,” he commanded in Elvish.
No, no, no. They couldn’t take him away. I had to talk to him. I needed to understand, breathe in his scent, scream at him, feel his hand in mine, slap him, hear his sensual voice in my ear.
I needed him close to me.
I needed to stay close to him.
So much so that, as I watched him get back in the saddle, I felt like my lungs weren’t taking in oxygen but flames.
Flames pushing me toward Amlach.
Unable to resist that strong impulse, I started to move, but Araton shifted slightly to the side to block my way, piercing me with the same glower I had given him before.
I looked at him with greater anger, then my gaze flicked to Amlach. He just smiled sadly at me and winked—and I felt like it was for the last time.
The soldiers trotted off, and I could only stand and watch as Amlach disappeared down the other end of the bridge.
“Come, my daughter.” Father offered me his arm, his face a mix of sternness and concern. “Your mother is waiting for you. And you have a lot to tell us.”
I huffed a yielding breath, slid my arm into the crook of his elbow, and walked with him toward the palace. The noise of my brother’s horse’s hooves and the one I’d traveled on followed us as the sun sank behind the mountains of Lake Caran.