Fires of War (War and Deceit #4) - Erin O'Kane Page 0,92
me beyond whatever the king has planned, and I know I can’t allow my own fears to get the better of me. Not when I have other people depending on me. “I got out of here once, and we will all get out of here again.” I meet their gazes, then turn in Vaeril’s lap, looking up at him, pressing my lips gently against his. I mean what I say, I fully intend on us all leaving this place alive. That includes my missing magician. Wilson. Pain pulses through me as I think of my happy-go-lucky friend and how he’s missing. It wouldn’t surprise me if he decided to stay behind to protect Aileen and Jayne. That is exactly something he would do, but I can’t help but worry that the king has done something to him to hurt me.
Feeling my anxiety, Tor leans forward and cups my cheek, and I lean into his comforting touch. “We will be with you the entire time,” he reassures me, but he frowns and slides his hand down, pressing it against my breastbone where our bonds sit. “Even if we get separated, you will never be alone.” His words echo something the Great Mother said, and I nod as the carriage comes to a halt.
Everyone moves back to their seats, all except me. When I try to move, Vaeril growls softly, so I shrug and stay where I am. They won’t be able to see into the carriage, and even if they can, they know I ‘consort’ with elves. We may as well give the castle gossips something to talk about.
One of the mages appears by the carriage door, his eyes briefly meeting mine before flicking away, his movements rigid and professional as he reaches for the handle. Once the door is open, he bows deeply to me, holding the pose for a couple of seconds before rising and pulling down the carriage steps. The genuflection makes me uncomfortable, but it had already been explained to me that it was necessary, that appearances needed to be kept up. So I keep my mouth shut as the mage finishes his job and incline my head slightly in thanks when he rises.
“Announcing Clarissa, the Great Mother’s chosen,” the mage proclaims, his voice carrying across the courtyard, even though it isn’t raised. My skin tingles as I stand in the carriage, and I realise why. Magic. Brushing down my dress, I take a deep breath. It’s a relatively simple but exquisitely well-made dress, but what makes it stand out is the colour. The dark blue fabric with the delicate golden chain around my waist shows the magicians’ claim over me. My dark grey cloak from the tribes sits over the top, my golden hawk pin proudly displayed in the center where it fastens together. I’m not wearing anything belonging to the elves, except I’ll have one on each arm as I enter the castle. Overall, my appearance makes a statement, exactly like Grayson said I should. He assured me I’ll be given time to change before this farce of a ball this evening.
Grayson appears by the carriage door and holds out his hand to me. I take his hand, and channelling my inner elf, I school my expression into a serene mask.
The sun is bright and warms my skin, the weather so at odds with the cold feeling of the courtyard. Even the grass on either side of the gravel driveway looks dull and lifeless. With Grayson on my right, he acts as a barrier, blocking my view of the king and whoever is waiting with him, giving me more time to prepare myself as we step away from the carriage.
“The chosen’s mates, High Mage Grayson,” the mage announces again, and we come to a stop just a few feet away. Releasing my hand, Grayson kisses it gently and steps to the side, allowing room for my other mates.
Clearing his throat, the mage continues, “Lord Vaeril of the high elves, and Torsten, Ambassador of the Mountain Tribes.” Vaeril takes the spot Grayson just vacated, dipping his head to me with the supernatural grace that only the fae possess as he offers me his arm. Tor appears at my other side, dipping his head in respect before kissing my hand in a gesture similar to Grayson’s, and then he moves aside, his hand on his axe which is strapped to his side. We decided it would be best if, as a show of strength, Tor followed just