Chapter 26
Aliya
Aliya stalked through the endless hallways, sticking to the shadows and being as subtle as she could, considering the two guards following less than five paces behind her.
She understood why Elessan had insisted she bring them.
She had no formal training with a sword, even if she wasn’t the queen.
Her heart still twisted at the thought of putting her life above anyone else’s, even if these men had sworn to do just that.
She peered into each dark alcove they passed, searching for Zadé’s curly brown hair and the slightly rounded tips of her pointed ears.
Not that she expected to find the woman lurking.
Normally, Zadé would be off somewhere making herself useful, like a general should.
If she’d learned of Brooks’ intrusion, she was probably already scouting out his position and strategizing the best way to take him down.
Aliya swallowed past her thickened throat.
Or, Zadé could be wallowing in the cruelty of King Roland’s words.
Brooks’ escape hadn’t been her fault. Eventually, the other woman would realize it, too, but there’s been no denying the pain that flashed across her expression at the accusation.
No one would blame Zadé for taking some time by herself.
Brushing a loose strand of hair out of her face, Aliya exhaled as she came to an intersection.
Going up the stairs to her right would take her to the rooms in the east wing, where Brooks was.
Down to her left would take her to the kitchens, where it was unlikely she’d find Zadé.
Straight ahead would take her past the great hall, a parlor she’d only seen in passing once, and out into the queen’s gardens and the stables.
She’d been wandering the castle for an hour, with no sign of General Zadé. There’d been no one else, either, which meant at least the palace staff had heeded her warning to evacuate.
She wasn’t going to accomplish anything by roaming the halls. In fact, she was more likely to run into Brooks at this point than Zadé, and as much as she appreciated having the two sentries at her back, somehow she doubted they’d be a match for the former arcane inquisitor.
“We’re walking in circles,” she said, glancing over her shoulders at the two guards who trailed her. “Maybe it’s time to—”
A flash of green satin flickered in the corner of her eye.
Aliya whirled around, gasping. “Brielle?”
Her lady in waiting gasped, her foot paused halfway up the third step. “Your Majesty.” The words echoed in the empty stairwell.
Furrowing her brows, Aliya took a few steps closer. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be evacuating.”
Brielle swallowed, rubbing her palms on her skirts. Her gaze flicked toward the eastern wing. “Um…”
Aliya tensed her jaw, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. “Out with it.”
The woman sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Traliorn is up there.”
Squinting, Aliya tilted her head as she stared at the woman. “Who?”
“Traliorn Farsys.” She swallowed again, as though there was something stuck in her throat. “He’s one of King Enorathil’s stewards. We…” Brielle’s voice trailed off.
Aliya studied the woman, and the bright flush staining her cheeks. Oh.
A faint grin softened her features as she reached for Brielle. It warmed her heart. At least she and Elessan weren’t the only two who had found love across racial lines.
Maybe there was hope, after all.
The other woman followed her unspoken instruction, descending the stairs and moving to join Aliya and her guards. She kept her eyes downcast. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty.”
Aliya gave her a sympathetic smile, taking the other girls’ hands in her own. “I understand the urge to try to free him. I do.”
Brielle raised tear-stained eyes to meet her own.
“But if you go up there, you’ll only find your own death.” Aliya shuddered. Or something worse, but she wouldn’t scare her lady in waiting with those details. “I don’t think Traliorn would want that for you. Do you?”
Sniffing, Brielle shook her head.
“King Roland and I are working on a plan to save the hostages.” She glared at her two silent sentries in warning. When neither of them called her on her lie, she turned her attention back to her servant. “We will get to him. In the meantime, he would want you safe, right?”
Aliya had no idea what Roland’s steward would or would not want, but she was rewarded with another sniffle and a nod. “Yes,” Brielle whispered.
“There are people up there who are important to me, too,” Aliya said, thinking of Shadow.
And Sorisana, who mattered to Elessan, so by default, was also on Aliya’s priority list. “Trust me… We will get them back. I swear it.” Something settled heavy in her gut at the words. She hoped she wasn’t lying to the girl.
Brielle’s round eyes stared into Aliya’s, meeting her gaze more boldly than she ever had before. After several heartbeats, the other woman nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay,” Aliya echoed. “Good.” She squeezed Brielle’s hands. “Now, please. Get out of the evacuation zone—outside the city walls, if you can.” She dropped her voice, moving her lips close to the other girl’s ear. “You’ll be reunited with your man soon. I swear it.”
Brielle pulled one hand free, using it to wipe at the trail of tears as they spilled over her cheeks. “Yes, Your Majesty.” She turned and headed toward the garden.
Aliya watched as the woman’s green dress was lost to the shadows and her footsteps faded. She clenched her jaw until her molars creaked.
They needed to convince Roland to help the hostages. Otherwise, Aliya had just lied to one of the few people who, it seemed, wouldn’t look askance at her relationship with Elessan.
Aliya gestured to her guards as she spun on her heels. “Come with me.”
They quickened their pace to keep up with her as she marched back toward the Council Chambers.
Her thoughts flipped through countless scenarios, things she could say, to persuade the sun elf king to agree to save the prisoners.
Most of them she immediately discarded. Roland was more like her nobles and father rather than a person with any sort of decency she could appeal to.
Zadé’s voice echoed through her mind as though the general were standing in front of her.
If’n yeh want his help, yeh’ll need ta find something yeh have that he wants.
Holding her heavy skirts up so she wouldn’t trip, Aliya exhaled. Fine. She could do that.
Roland wanted her magic and de facto control of her kingdom.
While she shuddered at the thought of occupying his bed or what her people would suffer under his rule, without his assistance, her people wouldn’t survive the upcoming winter.
Her happiness was a small price for their survival, wasn’t it?
She swallowed around the rocks that appeared in her throat. Nobles were traded in marriage for the benefit of others all the time. In fact, as a noble woman, her father and advisors would claim it was her primary function. That, and allowing herself to be bred like a brood mare.
Blinking past the stinging behind her eyelids, she shook her head and took a deep breath. She’d survived Malkov Cerel. At least she was relatively certain Roland Enorathil didn’t want to murder her—not yet, anyway.
They were halfway back to the Council Chamber when someone stepped in front of her. An elf, wearing Roland’s colors.
Aliya jumped and glanced back at her guards. Their lack of response likely meant the male hadn’t snuck up on them. But with her thoughts wandering as they had been…
She cleared her throat and straightened her posture. “Yes?”
“Queen Aliya,” the attendant bowed. “King Enorathil requests your presence—”
Lifting her hand, she cut him off. “We are on our way back now.”
The man shook his head. “He requested a private meeting, and has commandeered the study for this purpose.”
She furrowed her brow. Roland was already making use of her castle as though he owned it, and he had the audacity to summon her like a servant.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed the indignation down.
Like her, Roland no doubt saw the writing on the wall.
One way or another, this fortress and kingdom would eventually be his.
She could preserve her composure and dignity, or throw a tantrum like a spoiled child.
Either way, the result would be the same.
If she acted with decorum, at least she could hope to maintain his respect.
Nodding her head at the male, she gestured down the hall. “Please lead the way.”
Roland was staring out the window overlooking the gardens, his back to her as Aliya entered the study. Her guards fell into position on both sides of the door as she pushed it closed, sealing herself in the room with the sun elf king. Alone.
Goosebumps rose on her arms as his gaze roamed from her feet, over her skirts, up her torso until it fixed on her eyes.
Swallowing past her dry throat, Aliya stepped forward, opening her mouth before he could say anything. “You still want to marry me?”
He blinked once, the only sign she’d surprised him. His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized her face. “The offer hasn’t been taken off the table.”
Nodding to herself, she took a deep breath. “I will accept, on three conditions.”
Raising an eyebrow, Roland curled one corner of his face into a smile. “Oh? And what, pray tell, would these be?”
Aliya held up one finger. “First, you agree to assist me in freeing Brooks’ hostages and bringing him to justice.”
Roland pursed his lips into a thin line. “And the others?”
She added a second digit. “Reinstate the trade agreement between our people, as your daughter and I negotiated it.”
A growl rumbled in the back of his throat, but he didn’t voice his objection.
Raising a third finger, she plowed ahead before he had the chance to decline. “And you will replace all the food and supplies you burned in my courtyard.” When you threw your tantrum for all the city to see.
Only through extreme self-control did she manage to keep that last bit to herself.
“Hmm.” Roland stared at her until she decided he was doing it on purpose, to see how much he could make her squirm. His eyes flashed with something too quickly for her to identify, but it made the skin on the back of her neck prickle.
That didn’t bode well for their relationship dynamic as a married couple. She shoved that troubling thought aside and raised her chin, refusing to drop her gaze.
“If I accept the agreement you and my daughter reached, provide you with enough food to feed your people through the winter, and free your beloved’s mother—”
“All of the hostages,” Aliya corrected, not wanting to give him any wiggle room for squirming out of their bargain.
“Fine. All of them,” he agreed, waving his hand dismissively. “Then you will marry me and unite our kingdoms?”
Taking a deep breath, Aliya nodded. “Yes.”
He clapped so loudly, she jumped.
“Excellent,” he said. “We will sign the contract now, and perform the formal ceremony as soon as this situation with your former king’s Arcane Inquisitor is resolved.”
Behind her, the door opened and the same elf who had summoned her stepped inside, carrying a piece of parchment. Laying it on the desk and smoothing out the edges, the servant moved back, his hands clasped in front of him.
Roland produced a silver blade the length of his hand from his belt. Slicing a thin line across his palm, he held the dagger toward her. “It is traditional to sign royal marriage contracts in blood, and to accompany them with an Elven Blood Vow.”
Aliya took a step back, memories of her Irrevocable Vow with Jalius swirling through her mind. The last thing she needed was to get entangled in another agreement that could kill her.
Roland’s features hardened at her hesitation. “Are you refusing?”
“Do you doubt my honor?” she asked. But as she asked the question, she realized the practicality of it. She didn’t trust Roland, nor he, her. “This binds both of us to our word?”
“It does,” he confirmed.
“And if one of us breaks this bargain?”
His eyes darkened. “I wouldn’t recommend it. Breaking a blood vow results in a slow, very… painful death.”
Biting on her lower lip until she split the skin, Aliya took a deep breath.
She could practically hear Elessan’s voice screaming in her head to refuse, that he’d find a different way to save her kingdom.
She’d already nearly lost her life to one life-binding vow, the last thing she needed was to agree to another.
But if this was the only way to liberate Elessan’s mother, Brielle’s elf, and to protect her people…
Flaring her nostrils, she snatched the dagger from Roland’s grip and slashed it across her palm before she could register the sharp sting of pain.
Eyes flashing, Roland held out his hand to her, his smile curved in victory. “Now, we seal the agreement to marry and sign the marriage contract in blood.”