Locked up in prison while he’s potentially dying somewhere in the castle. Great first impression.
“Have you been able to open the lock on the door this whole time?” Kaelir questions, sounding both amused and a little wounded. Lifting my head, I give him an apologetic look before leaning back against the wall, exhaustion settling over me.
“Yes, but I meant what I told you yesterday, I won’t cause any problems,” I promise, closing my eyes as I take this moment to rest. I didn’t sleep well last night, what with worrying about Vaeril, being locked up, and the uncomfortable bench. Not to mention the strange noises coming from the cells farther down the corridor.
“You really are different than what I expected.”
Opening my eyes, I see the guard watching me with a shake of his head. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“Oh, good, I was imagining sharp fangs and uncontrollable anger. The way the queen talks about humans is…” He trails off, realising he probably shouldn’t be telling me this. “Anyway, I’ll get you something else to eat.”
“Thank you!” I call, as he pulls the cell door closed once again, shaking his head when it doesn’t immediately lock before turning away and making his way to the exit.
As soon as he leaves, the last of my remaining energy deserts me, making me slump against the wall behind me. I just want to curl up and sleep off the draining effects of breaking the spell. It was stupid, I shouldn’t have let him goad me into opening the lock, but he just wound me up in a way that brought out a different part of me, and I wanted to wipe that look off his face. I know I’m going to have to get used to the elves judging me because I’m human, but something about the way he said it just...bugged me.
If the queen talks about humans in the way Kaelir said, then no wonder they don’t like me. Centuries of hate doesn’t just disappear overnight. I think back to what my kind guard mentioned, and how surprised he had been that I wasn’t anything like queen said. Elier, my guard who brought me to Galandell, had also been kind once he realised I wasn’t going to try and escape or hurt any of them.
With a groan, I summon up the last of my energy to lay down on the bench, pulling up my legs as I turn on my side.
Must... stay awake... in case...news... about... Vaeril. My thoughts are becoming sluggish, and I know I’m going to fall asleep no matter how hard I struggle to stay awake. On the other hand, I would be useless to help him now... Maybe just a couple of minutes sleep...
“Clarissa!”
I jerk up when someone calls my name, already climbing to my feet before I even comprehend what I’m doing. Dizziness overtakes me, and I veer off to the side a little, my brain taking a couple of seconds to figure out where I am and what’s happening. But that voice... I know that voice.
“Vaeril!” I call back, wincing at how needy and high it sounds. Leaning against the wall, I try to push away, taking a few steps closer towards the bars.
As soon as I respond, I hear fast footsteps hurrying my way.
“If she’s been hurt in any way—” Vaeril’s words echo through the long corridor, but even I can hear the threat in his growling voice.
“I promise you, Lord Vaeril, no one has laid a hand on her,” Kaelir responds sternly, and I get the impression he’s offended at the implication that something might happen to me on his watch.
“Vaeril, stop harassing my friend,” I call out, just as he appears in front of my cell.
He freezes when he sees me standing there and looks me over, as if inspecting me for injuries. I could complain, but I’m doing the same. His colour is back now, his signature frown creasing his brow. The loose overshirts he had been wearing since we escaped didn’t do him any justice, and I have to drag my eyes away from his form-fitting, deep blue jacket. Bronze embroidery depicts an intricate dragon on each shoulder, along with matching bronze buttons down the front of the jacket. His hair has been washed and part of it is braided like I’m used to seeing, but unlike usual, he has bronze threads woven into the braids.
“Are you okay?” I ask, breaking the silence that is growing between us.
Glancing