occasion, considering the great ordeal you’ve been through, but I will not tolerate anyone berating me.”
“Your Majesty—” He starts to protest, but she interrupts, her eyes narrowing on him.
“The human will be granted rooms on the same floor as yours. She shall be treated as a…guest, until I get evidence that says otherwise.”
I don’t miss the ‘until I get evidence’ part of her comment. She’s going to do everything in her power to find that ‘evidence.’ I’ll always need to be on my guard around her.
“Thank you.” Vaeril bows his head again, and I copy his gesture, not wanting to earn her wrath by being seen as ‘ungrateful.’
She pushes up from her chair, her plate of food completely untouched. “Remain here as long as you wish. I suddenly feel unwell and am going to retire to my rooms.”
Getting to his feet as well, Vaeril bows at the waist, raising her hand to his lips as he presses a kiss against it. “Of course, Your Majesty.”
With his head bowed like that, Vaeril can’t see the look she gives him, but I can. It’s full of schemes and desire, and a warning tingle runs down my spine to the mark that sits in the small of my back. Feeling my gaze on her, the queen lifts her head and glares at me, the look on her face clear—he is mine.
Letting go of his hand, she finally turns away and strolls from the atrium, her ladies in waiting following behind her.
Vaeril sits back down and turns to me, gesturing to the plate in my lap. “Are you going to eat that?” he asks, as he tries to take my plate, making me laugh at the mischievous look in his eyes. He’s trying to cheer me up, shaking off the heavy atmosphere from being here with the queen.
“This is mine, get your own!” I bark at him, but I’m smiling as I move the plate out of his reach. I didn’t know that Vaeril has a cheeky, mischievous streak to him, but I guess I didn’t really understand him properly. Here, in his home, he’s more relaxed, and I look forward to getting to know him better.
Standing in front of the mirror, I almost don’t recognise myself. My flowing black hair gleams as the elf behind me weaves silver leaves into it. The elf, whose name I still haven’t learned, is terrified of me. Every time I move, she flinches, and I feel terrible not being able to reassure her, as I’m pretty sure she doesn’t understand Arhavien. I’m dressed in soft grey. The dresses here are much less fitted than what I’m used to, and there isn’t a petticoat in sight. Instead, the fabric is draped across my frame. It’s simple, with no embroidery, but it flatters my figure, and with the silver leaves in my hair, I look so unlike the person I was back in my home kingdom.
The suite the queen provided for me is huge and overlooks the river out the front of the palace. After Vaeril dropped me off at the door, I explored the huge rooms, expecting him to come back and tell me there had been a mistake.
Looking around these quarters now, uncertainty fills me. I feel so out of place here, and I don’t think it’s just because of the not so warm welcome from the queen. Galandell is beautiful, at least what I’ve seen of it so far, but there is something within me, some aching void that’s missing an integral piece, and I don’t think any city will fill that.
My mind return to my friends and the other two men who are never far from my thoughts. Jacob had been another regular in my reflections. I hadn’t seen him in the days before my escape and I worry for him. He was trying to warn me about his father and then he disappeared. I may not like him in the way he liked me, but he was my friend and I’m scared something happened to him.
A knock at the door brings me out of my musings as the elf who had been working on my hair hurries to answer the it. Turning from the mirror, I make my way towards the entrance to see who’s come to call on me.
A thrill courses through me when I hear his low voice—Vaeril. When I reach the door, I don’t need to understand elvish to see that the pretty elf who’s been helping me is blatantly flirting