Malin – Receiving Line #3
Aeladar squeezed her hand, his violet eyes shadowed with concern.
“Pregnancy and severe stress are a volatile combination for a siphon. We were lucky my nullification was enough to stop the draw today. You should see a Minster soon; they may be able to offer a ward or a way to limit your wild magic until the baby arrives.” He paused, his tone softening.
“I can handle the rest of the line on my own. You have been through enough. Go rest.”
Malin stared at him. She waited for the reprimand about her dangerous magic, or the suffocating panic that Will always displays, but it never came. There was only unconditional support. The profound relief brought a sudden tightness to her throat.
As exhausted and miserable as she was, she couldn’t leave him to this punishment alone.
The woman he loved was trapped in a coma upstairs, and in a matter of days, he would leave for a deadly mission in Fellspire.
He was fighting his own demons, and right now, her presence was the only anchor he had.
She closed her eyes, steadied her breathing, and straightened her spine. “I’m staying.”
If she could face Victor, she could survive anything this court threw at her.
‘Malin? I came down as quickly as I could. Are you okay?’ Will asked through their bond.
She looked up in the direction she felt his presence. There he was, standing near the servants’ entrance. His hair was wet, and his linen shirt was barely on.
‘I’ll be fine. Thanks for worrying about me. I’ll tell you all about it when I get up there… if you are still awake. This feels like it will take forever.’
If she let herself acknowledge the sheer terror she just felt, she wasn’t sure she would hold it together for the remainder of this public spectacle.
Yet, beneath her stubborn pride, her heart ached with relief just knowing he was worried.
The sharp edge of his concern bled through the bond; he must have sensed the violent spike of her panic.
‘I’m fine,’ she lied. The words tasted like ash, even in her own head.
A distinct wave of disbelief radiated back from him. Before he could call her bluff, she swallowed hard and projected the truth. ‘Victor is here. In the line. We spoke.’
For a long, heavy moment, the mental connection went dead silent. Then, a sudden, scorching wave of fury crashed against her mind, hopelessly tangled with his guilt for leaving her side.
‘You seem calmer now. Is he gone? I’m coming,’ Will stated, his mental voice tight with restrained violence. ‘I hate that you had to face him alone.’
Malin wanted him here, but she didn’t need him here.
She wanted to bury herself in his chest, breathe in the scent of woodsmoke, and let the entire Elven court disappear for a few seconds.
But she refused to be that vulnerable in front of the Mellyrn elite.
She could already feel the sidelong glances of the surrounding nobles, their calculating minds eagerly dissecting her reaction to the Media delegate.
‘No,’ she replied, forcing her mental tone to hold steady. ‘I’m okay. I wasn’t alone. Aeladar handled it. I just… didn’t expect it. I’ll see you after. Don’t come.’
‘Alright,’ Will answered softly.
He meant it. He hovered right at the edge of her awareness, a patient, lethal flame ready to ignite the room if she called. The thought anchored her, and the residual shaking in her hands finally stopped.
She turned her attention back to the reception line.
The next ambassador stepped forward, blissfully unaware that the world had just tilted on its axis.
Malin managed the required bows and diplomatic exchanges, but her brain was buzzing with static.
She parsed the next endless wave of diplomats through a thick, numb haze of adrenaline and shock, her mind replaying the encounter every time she blinked.
By the time the massive oak doors finally closed on the last dignitary, Malin’s feet had become blocks of solid marble, and her polite smile was a permanent, aching grimace.
The line dissolved. It was over.
Aeladar turned to her, the hardened mask of the General melting away to reveal soft eyes filled with overwhelming pride.
“You were perfect,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.
“The Basat are not so easily impressed, and Victor... you stood against him beautifully. I know I gave you the option to leave, but I am so incredibly glad you decided to stay. Having my daughter by my side through this means everything to me.”
A protest that she was far from perfect rose in her throat, but the raw sincerity in his violet eyes stopped her. “I’m glad I was here with you, too, Aeladar.”
Dropping the last shred of Elven protocol, the towering General pulled her into a fierce, heartfelt hug. When he stepped back, he offered the traditional Elven parting, touching foreheads while holding hands, and murmured, “I will be up with your mother if you want to talk more.”
As she stepped out into the cool stone corridor, the last of Malin’s strength finally evaporated. Tomorrow, she would face whatever Mira wanted from her. Tonight, all she wanted to do was find the man she loved and let herself be held, just for a little while.