Chapter 11 Festival
While the Dissolver spun tales for Zephyrah, Greth's gaze flickered toward the guards stationed at the path's end
silent, watchful, too intent for comfort.
A knot of suspicion tightened in his chest. Who was their real quarry?
Feigning idle curiosity, Greth drifted among the statues. He let his fingers trail along cool marble, feigning interest in a centaur frozen mid-draw, a she-elf in regal armor, a faun king crowned in ivy.
But when he lingered just out of sight, he risked a glance over his shoulder.
The guards had moved, shadows trailing him.
Was it Jhas'tir's order?
The notion sparked a sly pride.
He was touched, even, that the King would pay him such special attention.
Not bad for a vagabond gladiator.
He kept circling, his steps slow, eyes roving from one likeness to the next: the centaur's taut bowstring, the faun's cold, regal sneer,-a beguiling elf maiden in gossamer white, midnight hair tumbling over her shoulders-
Gareth stopped in his tracks.
There, just past the wrought-iron gate, an elf woman glided along the road, her silhouette disappearing behind the stone.
He searched, weaving between the statues, craning his neck, desperate for another look.
There she was again.
Just a glimpse and then gone.
He couldn't believe it. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on, more lovely even than Rowena.
He didn't think that was possible.
He swallowed hard.
Was she heading to the festival?
There were thousands of forest creatures in this kingdom. If he missed her now, he might lose her forever.
He couldn't let that happen.
He surged forward, weaving through marble limbs and moss-draped pedestals, eyes locked on the road.
There-
a final flicker of white silk as she rounded the garden wall, close to where the others were waiting.
Greth broke into a jog, ignoring the guards' muffled complaints behind him as they tried to keep up.
He had to reach her before she was lost to the crowd.
He skidded around the corner and
miraculously
she remained, her back to him, deep in conversation with Zephyrah.
He breathed a silent sigh of relief; it was always easier to talk to somebody new when you had a common acquaintance. Perhaps Zephyrah would make introductions-anything to close the distance between himself and this vision.
As he approached them, he felt suddenly awkward in the tight, ill-fitting elven clothes he had scavenged.
The pants were too short.
The shirt, too tight-
Well
That wasn't such a bad thing. He always felt his arms were one of his best features-
He stopped.
and drew a deep breath, trying to calm his jumbled mind.
He was being silly.
Nearer now, a haze of rose and lavender perfume drifted toward him, dizzying and soft.
Her dress shimmered in the growing light-
silk and gossamer flowing around her like spun moonlight, delicate and ethereal.
A golden circlet crowned her head, raven-black hair coiled and then spilling in waves down her back.
Greth's heart hammered with every step.
She didn't have to fall in love with him. He would settle just to see her face, to be near her for a single heartbeat.
"Stars above, I barely recognized you!" Zephyrah exclaimed, laughter sparkling in her voice. "You look radiant-turn for us, let me see the whole gown!"
The elf maiden smiled shyly and spun, the skirt of her gown whispering against the grass, catching the early sun like water.
Her eyes met Gareth's, and for a brief moment,
Gareth's heart stopped.
It was Rowena.
beaming back at him with a sheepish grin and blushing cheeks.
Her eyes held his gaze for only a second,
but he knew he would remember that moment for a lifetime.
Rowena had always been beautiful in his eyes, but now, adorned in gleaming silks and jewels befitting a woman of her station and grace, she seemed otherworldly- untouchable.
The most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He was captivated.
Greth's thoughts splintered. Turning from her would have been as impossible as denying his own heartbeat- which was now thrumming wildly in his chest.
He knew right then that wherever this woman went, he would follow. No matter the danger. No matter the cost.
She had stolen his heart.
However, he knew that she, a highborn lady, could never return his affections. Yet knowing changed nothing.
In that moment, he let himself fall, recklessly, hopelessly, for Lady Rowena Valmont.