Chapter 8
That could’ve gone a lot worse , Ronan seems to say when he raises his eyebrows.
It also could have been a lot better , I try to respond with a hard press of my lips.
With a sigh, my gaze drifts to the shiny, braided hair of the small elven woman as she bobs along with the rhythm of the horses’ strides. Considering how our agreement had gone, I’m a bit surprised she has such a bounce to her step.
She could , I remind myself. We haven’t bound her or chained her up. She isn’t our prisoner. She shouldn’t be.
My heart feels tight. What if she decides to turn around and leave? What do I do then?
The clipping of Claude’s hooves against the occasional twig makes the small elf twitch as though she’s not expecting the sharp cracks even as they repeat, over and over. I can’t help but laugh. The sight pulls me from my spiraling thoughts.
“Is it true what they say about the elven ability to sense things more intensely than humans?” I ask.
Ether’s white, almost feline-shaped ears turn slightly, angling in my direction.
Whilst trying to make casual conversation, I must have overstepped somewhere.
My curiosity has won over my usually considerate character.
I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous before, not even when my father had put me on the spot in front of his entire cabinet.
“Yes,” she says softly, though her voice is almost imperceptible, hiding beneath the subtle breeze reaching through the trees.
There’s probably much on her mind that I cannot fathom.
But then she speaks again, slightly louder, and still as naturally as the sound of leaves kissing their branches.
“Why do you believe me capable enough to teach you magic?”
I tighten my hands on the reins, and Claude stumbles a little, falling into a slower rhythm. Ronan slows down too.
From the second I witnessed her fighting, I knew she could provide what no other magic user can. Her innate ability to manipulate the elements is one not even mages have the luxury of obtaining.
Do I trust her? No, not entirely. Do I want to trust her? Absolutely.
Among all the magical creatures banished to the Aldorin forest, elves are said to be the most dangerous, even more than the strong and muscular ogres, deceitful trolls, and the most terrifying dragons.
When I was much younger, I’d often hear castle maids telling tales about elf sightings in the villages bordering the castle—stories of elves pillaging villagers’ food during the colder months or practicing healing magic on those afflicted with disease, only to cause their sickness to worsen.
I never fully understood those stories. After all, why would elves risk their lives to ruin the lives of ordinary, magic-less people?
Even Ether doesn’t seem to be fond of being far from the forest she calls home.
Her eyes still flash around, less conspicuously now, to spot any predator before it catches her.
I’m not scared of her, but I am intimidated. She can clearly hold her own in a fight. I have yet to witness her magical abilities, but if she’s been scouted for the king, she must have a trick or two at her disposal.
“Elves are known for their innate connection to the magic thrumming beneath the soil,” I recite from one of my favorite textbooks.
Over the years, many pages had been torn from the history on mystic lore, then burned, crossed out or bleached, but the information on elven curses managed to stay in the binding, untouched.
For fear that more valuable information might be torched, I took it upon myself to memorize as many of my books as I could. “Is this somehow connected to your?—”
She stops abruptly, eyes focused on the ground.
“Woah!” I shout at Claude as I tug on the reins.
He stamps his hooves a few times, then stops and drops his head to the ground to munch on a patch of grass.
I steer him slightly in her direction so I can watch her, but she avoids my eyes and stares blankly at the rocks covering the dry dirt, her eyes the color of melted caramel and her cheeks a flattering shade of red.
Her pinched lips shove into her right cheek and her midnight black hair falls chaotically over her shoulders.
“Ramiel, why have we stopped?” Ronan groans next to me. His brown eyes are guarded. I turn to him, and his mouth twitches like he’s going to object, but he doesn’t say anything.
“My knowledge about elves is limited, so I’d like to learn.
I hope my wondering about your people is not offensive.
” I pause, and she makes no new expression.
With a cough, I continue. “I’m sure you’ll have some adjusting to do once we get closer to the castle.
Let me know if you’d like to rest, or need anything to eat or drink on our journey.
” I study her expression again for any changes, and to my surprise, her eyes flicker quickly to a golden yellow, glistening like marbles.
This must mean something. Stuff like this isn’t in any of my textbooks.
“How hospitable of you,” she rasps, her face crinkling inward as she speaks.
I offer a smile, not taking her words as an insult. Everyone knows elves cannot lie. They’ve been cursed for generations. As far as I understand it, she can’t even get away with a white lie, so the compliment must be genuine.
“I appreciate your honesty,” I say gently.
This seems to catch her off guard, because the color in her eyes vanishes and is replaced with a frightening onyx. The air seems to vibrate with energy, sending a shiver over my entire body, despite the heat.
Have I crossed yet another invisible boundary?
“Oh, it’s nothing,” she starts quietly. Her eyes lift to mine, still black, but now a hint of something brighter creeps in.
The smallest of smiles pulls at the edges of her mouth.
“Thank you for allowing me to walk. I’ve never sat on another beast before, except to end its life.
See—” She lifts one of her feet in the air to show me, and I have to relinquish my surprise.
They’re nearly pure black on the bottom from years of weathering, and flat like a sheet of parchment.
She must’ve walked until her soles bled, not having taken a carriage anywhere her entire life.
When I stare for a moment too long, her eyes flash to a glowing shade of yellow, and she drops her foot to the ground. Dust scatters from the impact. Her smile is still there, but now it doesn’t seem genuine.
“I appreciate your consideration for my preferences,” she mumbles.
“You’re welcome,” I croak. I’ve never spoken to an elf before today, so what do I know?
It would be bad news if she sees me as a threat and decides to end things here.
Though seeing as how she doesn’t seem to hesitate harming those who show hostility toward her, I’m sure she could kill me by simply blowing a spell in my direction.
“Let’s continue,” I say to Ronan, loud enough for Ether to hear.
Though I’m sure at any volume, she would still detect it, if those ears are more than just for show.
I give Claude a polite nudge to his ribs, and he grunts, then moves forward, slow. Ether walks next to me, but if it weren’t for my surveillance, I wouldn’t have known she was there. She’s horrifically quiet, even with those monstrous feet. Perhaps…they’re softer than they appear.
A shiver shakes the thought away. Why am I still thinking about her feet?
As we trudge along, I continue to watch her when I can. Mostly to make sure she doesn’t run away, but there’s also something about the way her body moves, lithely, along the edge of the path like she belongs with the trees and bushes and birds.
Her eyes wander, calculating, to the high emerald canopies of leaves as though communicating with them. Some unspoken words pass over her glistening eyes.
She’s such an unreal creature, so naturally free and beautiful, and yet, she’s obediently following us into the worst place for her to be, away from the world where she can freely harness her magic.
Either she trusts us, or she has her own agenda.
But for now, I’m fine with either as I take in her flowing strides along the path’s edge.
A part of me fills with excitement. I’m finally going to learn how to perform magic, and from the best teacher I could ask for.
Another part of me is anxious. Will I be ready in three months? Or will even an elf deem my situation hopeless?
I watch as her long black eyelashes shade her golden-brown eyes, and her hair gallantly dances against her back.
A feeling settles deep in my chest. Resolve.
My jaw sets and I finally stop gaping at the beautiful creature we’ve miraculously convinced to join us against every instinct in her body.
If my father discovers who I’ve chosen to be my master, there’s no telling what consequences will arise. He’s rather unpredictable when it comes to punishment and justice. I’m not sure if he knows the difference between the two, or if he decides which one to enact depending on his whim.
So he won’t find out. And though I’m terrified, I will protect her. She will go home safe after all is said and done. And her safety will extend to those around her, infectious.
That will be my first decree as king.