Chapter 25
Elessan
Elessan almost didn’t hear the door close behind Aliya thanks to the plugs in his ears.
He knew why Aliya needed him here—someone had to keep Roland from doing anything stupid that would get the hostages killed, like trying to storm Brooks’ position.
Hopefully Elessan could stall any action on the part of the sun elf royals until she returned with Zadé.
He stepped up to the map on the table and studied it.
“Any sign of a back way into the library?” He enunciated his words so he wouldn’t have to scream in the royal’s face.
He pressed his lips together to hold back a smile at the memory of the vicious glee in Aliya’s eyes when she’d had the opportunity to do just that.
An alliance between Aliya and Roland would be no easy thing, but it would be best for both realms.
Roland didn’t respond, but Tsara shook her head. “Other than the donjon, the library’s the most fortified area in this castle!”
Well, no one could ever accuse Brooks of not being strategic.
“What does this human want?” Roland bellowed.
“Many things,” Elessan barked. “He wants the elves dead, Aliya’s magic in his possession, and likely himself on the throne!”
Roland huffed at the last part. “The humans will let anyone wear their crown these days!”
Elessan flared his nostrils but bit back his retort. He’d have to satisfy his rage imagining Roland’s vicious death in the dark hours of the night. “Do you have a plan for extracting our people?”
Roland studied him like he was horse dung stuck to a boot heel. “The vast majority of our people are safe—either in this room or camped outside the city. I see no reason why I should waste more elven lives to rescue a handful who were incompetent enough to be captured by the enemy!”
Incompetent enough? To be captured? Elessan shook his head. He couldn’t be hearing this. He popped out one of his ear plugs and tilted his head toward the king. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I don’t think I heard you. Will you please repeat what you just said?”
Roland didn’t bother to flick his eyes in Elessan’s direction. “You heard me just fine.”
Elessan blinked, his jaw going slack. “If it weren't for the fortunate timing of your secret meeting, you, your daughter, and your advisors would also be prisoners! You would leave my mother and the rest of our people to their fate?” He couldn’t believe it, but knowing the royal the way he did, Elessan shouldn’t have been surprised.
His stomach hardened into lead and tried to force its way up his throat.
“This is how the king of the sun elves repays those who have faithfully served him for two centuries? By abandoning your people because they aren’t important or useful enough to you?
” The betrayal was a blade of ice rammed between his ribs.
Roland waved him away as if he were a gnat or fruit fly buzzing in his face.
Rage exploded through Elessan, scorching every nerve ending that had his body threatening to combust, just like Aliya when she’d bottled up her magic.
He’d explode and lay waste to the entire castle.
He would be the last thing Brooks and Roland Enorathil would see before their lifeblood drained from their wretched bodies.
He curled his fingers around the handles of his swords until his knuckles popped as he wrenched them from their sheaths.
Suddenly, Princess Tsara was in front of him. She put a cool hand against his chest and pushed, walking him backward, away from her father.
When they were far enough away there was no immediate risk of him cutting Roland down in a murderous rage, she stopped. Removing an ear plug she frowned at him.
“What do you think you’re doing, Svialto?” Her voice was pitched low so the others wouldn’t hear them.
“What am I doing?” he hissed. He’d thought it was obvious—he was saving his mother. “What is your father doing? I didn’t realize the sun elves were such cowards!”
Something dangerous flicked across her eyes before Tsara suppressed the reaction.
“We must weigh the needs of the realm against those of the few. He is trying to make the best of a difficult situation without risking more lives! None of us want to die in the human lands, where our magic may not be able to rejoin our ancestors.”
Elessan spun, slashing one hand through the air as though he could disembowel an invisible enemy.
“I’ve spent the past two centuries exposing myself to exactly that possibility!
Every. Single. Day. And now you’re telling me you’re going to repay my sacrifice by leaving my mother in the hands of a psychopath who has done nothing but prove his willingness to murder our people?
Do you know what kind of death that’ll be?
Has my loyalty meant so little?” He hated how his voice cracked on the last sentence.
His life, his entire purpose, had been to serve the sun elves in their war effort, and now…
This betrayal stung worse than any torture he could’ve endured.
Tsara reached out and squeezed his bicep in what was no doubt intended to be a comforting gesture but only sent shivers up his spine.
“Of course not,” she said, giving him an understanding wince.
“It means something to me.” She glanced over her shoulder at their advisors gathered around the table, still yelling at each other.
“I think I can convince my father to change his mind.” She turned her focus back to him. “If…”
His blood chilled. “If, what?”
Tsara stared at him, her smile beatific. “If you accept my proposal. Come back home and marry me. Become the next king and rule by my side like we used to pretend.”
He shook her off, taking a step back. “Tsara, we were kids, and it was just a game. You know the sun elves would never consent to a mountain elf as their ruler.”
The expression dropped from her lips as her eyes flashed until they appeared almost silver in the morning light. “They’ll get over it a lot more readily than the humans will, and you know it.”
As much as he hated to admit it, she did have a point.
Tsara crossed her arms and leaned her weight into her right hip.
“This is the deal, Svialto. You want my assistance saving your mother? Agree to my terms, and I’ll convince my father to help.
” Blowing a strand of hair out of her face, she shrugged.
“Don’t, then your mother and the others are dead.
Besides, my father has decided he wants Aliya as his bride.
He can give her everything she needs to solidify her hold on power and guarantee her people don’t starve this winter.
You wouldn’t want to do anything to mess up that chance, would you? ”
Elessan clenched his jaw until he was surprised he didn’t crack a molar.
Honoring the terms of their original agreement would’ve granted Aliya the same points.
But his mother… “Is blackmail really the way you want to win my hand?” One corner of his lips curled in disgust. “I thought we were friends. I expected a little more empathy from you.”
“If it’s the only way to get what I want, I’ll take it.” Tsara’s gaze was as hard as his.
Valek. Aliya would likely never forgive him.
She’d view this as him abandoning her, when she needed his support the most. But it was his mother’s life at stake.
He knew how much Aliya missed her own mother, and that she would never wish the same on him.
And her first priority was her people, as it should be for any decent monarch. Hopefully she would come to understand.
With a sigh, he nodded. “With one further condition.”
The princess raised an eyebrow, waiting.
His stomach twisted, sending a bitter aftertaste up the back of his throat.
He swallowed, forcing his words through thickened vocal cords.
“Convince your father to honor your treaty with Aliya, regardless of who she decides to wed. Replace the food stores he burned.” The warm sunny future he’d dreamed of with Aliya by his side evaporated in a flash of smoke and shadow, leaving a hollow, sinking feeling in his chest. The rest of his life spread before him, as bleak and hopeless as it had been before Aliya had stumbled into his path.
But her kingdom and her people would be safe, her position much more secure. If he couldn’t be with her, at least he could give her this.
He pinned Tsara with a glare. “Do that, and convince your father to help rescue my mother, then we’ve got a deal.”
Victory flashed through Tsara’s eyes. “Done.” Drawing a dagger from her hip, she pressed the edge against her left palm until a thin line of red welled up. Sheathing the blade, she raised her eyebrows.
She wanted an Elven Blood Vow. Valek. It was similar to the Irrevocable Vow used by the mages. If he broke it, he’d die. Painfully and slowly. And if she couldn’t follow through on her part, she’d face the same fate.
He furrowed his brows. “Are you sure?” He flicked his gaze to her father. “Roland is stubborn. If you’re not able to convince him…”
Something hardened in her eyes, as though she thought he was trying to weasel his way out of their bargain. “Don’t worry about me holding up my own end.” Her eyes narrowed. “Worry about your own.”
Elessan tilted his head to the side. What did she have on her father that made her so confident?
Chances were, he would never find out. He was going to regret this, but he couldn’t leave his mother to die.
Removing his dagger, he drew it across his own palm, a burning line of fire following in its wake.
A heartbeat later, his hand sported a red slash identical to hers.
They pressed their palms together.
Tsara took a deep breath and, in Elven, said, “I promise to secure my father’s help in freeing Sorisana Svialto and the other hostages from the human known as Brooks. And to guarantee our alliance and food supplies for Queen Aliya Larimar Cerel.”