Chapter 28
Jane
Anticipation built low in my stomach. I shouldn’t have felt it.
But despite my father’s state, despite the need to continue the lessons, when Reagan told me to join him and Finn in Banfgaard, I couldn’t say no. That was all I wanted.
Glancing down at the burgundy cloak, I realised I’d been fidgeting with my nails.
Moments ago, Joy had walked out of the foyer without a word, without even a goodbye. She couldn’t fathom why I had agreed to this trip or why I even wanted to visit another place. She had never asked to leave Ehrfurt. Even though, lately, I’d thought she was beginning to change her mind.
Next to me, Finn wrestled with the cuffs of his shirt, fumbling with buttons I’d never seen him struggle with before.
“Need help with that?” I asked, lifting a brow.
He exhaled and held out an arm. “Yes, before I burn this one.”
My lips quirked as I caught the bite in his tone. “You really don’t want to see your family?”
“Why?” he asked. “Don’t I look thrilled?”
I adjusted the buttons, waiting for him to continue. He opened his mouth, but his gaze drifted to the high windows, where a wan shaft of morning light slipped through.
He shook his head. “It’s family. Why would I want to see them?”
I flicked a look at him, but Finn was already focused on putting on his cloak.
“Are you ready?” Reagan appeared from a side corridor, Cerridwen at his side, his cloak already draped over his shoulders.
We’d barely exchanged words in recent days. He’d spent most of the time visiting towns and outposts and following any leads about the Foley girl’s death. And avoiding me.
Reagan’s frustration, as far as I could tell, split into two possibilities: either angry confrontation or cold indifference.
“You have Joy, right?” I asked Cerridwen.
She nodded. “I’ll keep an eye on her. I’m thinking she might like to visit my lab. I have a guess that she might like lab work.”
Her office full of glass jars and cauldrons filled my mind. “Right. And you can reach us if he wakes?”
“I’ll send a familiar,” she replied. “Now off you go.”
Reagan hefted two pieces of luggage, focused on their weight rather than on any of us. Finn offered me a tight-lipped smile and his free hand, the other clutching a bag, ready to fling us.
“I can take mine,” I murmured, reaching for my duffel, trying to meet Reagan’s gaze. I couldn’t.
“You can’t carry it,” Reagan said.
Charmed so only he could lift it, of course.
I considered asking whether he planned to ignore my presence for the entire trip, but guilt kept the words from coming out. Instead, I took Finn’s hand, steadying myself, and we flung.
Mere seconds passed before the foyer dissolved into sweeping greenery, the sudden brightness stinging my eyes.
A palace rose before us, draped in vines and blooms that reminded me faintly of Erisea Hall. This one didn’t stretch nearly as tall, but it was broad, sprawling outward rather than upward. The vines shimmered as though threaded with gold, and the white stone glimmered like marble.
The air was heavy with the scent of flowers.
A forest clung to the hillsides behind and to either side of us, while the elegant stone beneath our feet caught the luminous shine of morning.
Flowers crowded the path in orderly rows, guiding us toward a gate.
Tulips, and a white variety of lilies shaped like milk glasses.
The tree-high golden gate parted as we approached, though no elvenborn stood in sight.
Finn had prepared me for what elves were like, or rather, what they were capable of.
Like the mageborn, they were gifted with magic, though it answered to them differently.
Elvenborn had heightened senses, an attunement to the elements, and, apparently, some measure of control over them.
Their healing abilities were said to be legendary, as were the immortal lifespans.
The senses were something I’d already felt through the velmoria flowers, the source of the famous elven dust.
Beyond the gates, the palace’s doorway loomed, a round clock set above its arch, its marble base inlaid with gold numbers. There were no hands.
“What is the point of the clock if you cannot tell the time?” I asked.
“An immortal joke,” Reagan replied in his deadpan voice. “They are not gifted with a good sense of humour here.”
I huffed a laugh. “Or humility,” I murmured, catching the faint twitch in the corner of his mouth.
“You shouldn’t point that out inside,” Finn chimed in, the beautiful planes of his face remaining hard.
“Right,” I murmured, scanning the courtyard for anyone who might have overheard us. There was no one in sight, though that didn’t mean much.
I reminded myself that I was meant to step into the role of emissary again and carry myself like a staff member, an experienced mageborn. Like donning a cloak.
Footsteps approached from the front entrance. The lacquered doors swung inward.
If I had ever confused the mageborn with humans, I would never make the same mistake with elves.
The woman who stepped out was strikingly tall, her limbs long and lean, her skin a deep raisin-purple shade.
Her white hair reached her shoulders, pointed ears peeking from the loose strands, and her scarlet silk dress appeared to be made of two separate pieces, with openings along her hips and stomach.
I glanced down at my maroon plaid skirt and the white blouse beneath my cloak. Beside her, I couldn’t have looked more misplaced.
“Welcome to Banfgaard, Mage Lord,” the woman said in a sultry voice, studying us. “Is this the entirety of your party?”
“Yes,” Reagan answered, with Finn and me flanking him. “This is all of us.”
“Good to see you too, Maith,” Finn greeted, his face rearranged in casual mischief now.
“Couldn’t say the same, Atkus,” she replied.
Finn only smirked.
She turned to me as we reached the marble steps.
“Jane. Emissary,” I said. “Thank you for the invitation.”
Her grey eyes narrowed in cool assessment. “Don’t thank me.”
She pivoted on her heel and led us into a bright foyer. I glanced sidelong at Finn as we followed, trying to gauge her authority.
“What is with the cold treatment, Maith?” Finn drawled. “Didn’t want to see us?”
She cast him a cool look over her shoulder. “Lord Eldar was the only one who wished to see you. The rest of the court preferred only the Mage Lord.”
“I was hoping you wanted to see me too,” he coaxed, still flirting.
“Oh, I’m sure they all do,” Reagan supplied coolly, his tone edged with a hint of warning.
Maith turned to him, her disdain vanishing behind a dutiful dip of her chin. Finn, on the other hand, levelled Reagan with a pointed look.
The foyer opened into rows of ivory marble pillars, their bases adorned with gilded beasts and winged figures.
Beyond them, the space lay open to the sky.
Sunlight poured through the openings, catching on cascades of greenery that trailed in languid drapes.
Water ran in narrow channels along both sides of the corridor at our feet, turquoise and glimmering.
As I took in the place, Finn and Reagan exchanged muted glances.
“It’s Maith, right?” I said, drawing her attention to me. “If you don’t mind me asking, what is your position here? And how do you know Finn?”
She fell into step beside me, taking the chance to inspect me more thoroughly. “We aren’t related. When he lived here, we were raised close. My father serves his family on the Council, and now I do too, as chief stewardess. Are you the one sharing his bed lately?”
I nearly choked on air, though I managed not to show it. “No,” I said lightly. “He’s a good friend.”
Maith showed no reaction, stopping just short of the alabaster doors as they swung open.
“Let’s see,” Reagan muttered to Finn as he strode ahead.
Inside lay a vast chamber, paved with the same gleaming marble, the domed ceiling etched with spiralling filigree in gold.
It was so different from the grey-glimmered halls of Mountheim.
Everything here seemed designed to impress, to be admired.
Mountheim was older, moodier, with moss-softened greenery and time-darkened stone instead of opalescent pillars.
We followed Maith toward a raised dais where two men were seated.
One was tall and powerfully built, his albino skin was close to a pale blue, the same colour as the eyes he fixed on Finn.
An azure gemstone hung from one pointed ear.
His long platinum hair was braided into three strands that fell against the laces of his cerulean tunic.
I stole a glance at Finn, whose ears had rounded again after the curse. My mind began to whirl with questions.
The other man appeared shorter, based on the length of his legs.
His shoulder-length black hair was as dark as Gwin’s, and his piercing beige eyes fixed on Reagan.
He smiled with mischief, fingers idly tracing the gold lapels of his brown tunic, which revealed the brown skin of his chest and abdomen.
Two more figures stood to one side of the dais.
A woman with the same dark hair and skin colour as the shorter lord wore a white dress.
Beside her stood a man who looked like a younger version of the pale lord.
His platinum hair was braided, his albino skin was marked by two pale blue scars slashing across a cheek.
Maith halted just short of the dais. “The Mage Lord of Mountheim with his emissaries, Atkus and Jane.”
For a moment, I felt as if we were petitioners before Banfgaard’s court. It wasn’t far from the truth.
All of them stared until the taller Elven Lord with pale skin rose from his imposing chair.
“It’s our pleasure to receive a Mage Lord in Banfgaard,” he said in a voice that sounded like the wind, stepping forward and stopping just a breath from Reagan. “Especially the one harbouring family.”
Seconds dragged by until Reagan allowed the faintest curl of his mouth. “Eldar. We were glad when you finally decided to grant us an invitation.”
They were nearly the same height, a thought that vanished the moment Eldar gripped Reagan’s shoulders and kissed him on the mouth.
I blinked, schooling my expression while my lungs forgot to work.
Reagan remained unfazed, as if he’d expected that.
“Don’t hoard the guests, El,” the shorter Elven Lord said, approaching. If this was Eldar, the other must be Iqbal, whose sister was Anife, according to Finn’s quick briefing earlier.
Eldar stepped aside, allowing Iqbal to approach Reagan. He placed a hand on his shoulder, and Reagan made him wait before leaning down for a second kiss.
Eldar turned to Finn, cupping his cheek and pressing a brief kiss to his lips.
“My Lord,” Finn said, bowing his head.
“It’s been too long, nephew,” Eldar replied.
Heat climbed my cheeks, leaving me keenly aware of my reactions. A glance to the side showed Anife and the man beside her staring at me, but Iqbal had already moved away from Reagan and claimed my attention.
His scrutiny made my stomach tighten. I didn’t know if I should step forward or bow, so I chose to dip my chin. “Thank you for having us.”
His sandy eyes roamed over my cloak. He leaned slightly, his nostrils flaring. With a pointed grin at Reagan, he said, “Jane, you must be warm beneath so many layers. Do feel free to strip.”
The sensuous tone in his voice reminded me of running water. It replaced my unease with something cooler.
“Your home is beautiful,” I replied, taking my time as I unfastened my cloak. “Is it always this sunny?”
His eyes swept over me again, taking in the clothes.
“A little too warm if you ask me,” Reagan added, shrugging off his own cloak.
Iqbal’s gaze flicked to him, all of him. “As is our preference.”
“Uncle, this is Jane,” Finn said to Eldar, gesturing to me.
But the Elven Lord took about three seconds appraising Reagan before I could dip my chin again.
“Beautiful hair,” Eldar said to me, lingering on my side braid. His gaze returned to Reagan. “What matter requires two emissaries?”
Reagan’s tone remained mild. “They are both vital to this, far more than I am.”
“Exciting times then,” Iqbal said, eyes sparkling. “You know the family already, I believe.”
“Not her.” The deep voice came from the elf who resembled Eldar. He stepped forward, placing himself in front of me and extending his hand.
Indeed, Finn had failed to mention this one.
“Jane,” I said, going for a handshake.
Yet the man turned my palm down and pressed his lips to my knuckles.
A loose braid of platinum hair spilled over his shoulder like silk. “Jane,” he repeated, deep and low, and a shiver traced my spine. “I’m Arun.”
The sultry inflection was consistent in all their voices. Briefly, I curled my fingers so he would notice he still held them.
“The last time I saw you,” Reagan said, surging to my side, “you didn’t join Eldar’s welcoming receptions.”
Arun released my hand and met Reagan’s eyes before dipping his chin. “Mage Lord. It has been some time since your last visit.” His eyes shimmered blue like Eldar’s, who I assumed was his brother. “You will see more of me now.”
“Arun began leading our sentries three years ago,” Iqbal added. “Too many changes followed after some of our kin left Banfgaard to move to a better country. I cannot understand how leaving all one holds dear could be considered better, but…”
He didn’t finish. I glanced at Finn, now speaking with Anife, sensing he absorbed every word.
“Some people seem drawn to the unknown,” Arun mused, hands clasped behind his back.
“And those are people far less content than us,” Reagan replied with a pointed grin to Iqbal, sliding his hands into his pockets. “All that curiosity and bravery must be so inconvenient. Much better to stay put, like us. Closer to comfort.”
Iqbal’s eyes twitched, but before he could respond, Finn brushed past Reagan with slightly excessive force and hooked an arm around Arun’s neck. “Leading sentries? You couldn’t lead a dance back when I lived here.”
I took in their dynamics. Between Finn’s well-hidden discomfort or Reagan’s subtle jab, I found myself wondering what type of people we came here to ally with.