answers out of him, like what the fuck had motivated him to send that letter.
And I had to wonder if what he’d said was true. Had the Norns bound our souls together with fate?
All I knew was that Galin now consumed every one of my thoughts—every heartbeat, every breath of air—and I needed to burn him out of my mind.
Chapter 16
Ali
It seemed impossible, but after a bloody battle, we were now waiting for the High Elves to serve us dinner.
After the battle, things had started moving quickly. King Gorm had led us through the streets of Boston in a sort of grand parade. High Elves had lined the streets, morosely “cheering” and throwing snow into the air like confetti, their expressions murderous.
Then, the High Elves had brought us to the Citadel as guests of honor. Once inside, we’d been given a few hours to bathe and put on fresh clothes. After that, we had been led to an enormous mead hall.
The Citadel kitchens must have been working overtime, because when we arrived, the mead hall was filled with tables, enough to seat every elf in the Winnowing, including the Vanir. Ivory tablecloths, gilded place settings, and crystal wine glasses were laid out in neat rows. Above us, candles flickered in gilded chandeliers.
We were arranged by tribe in three long rows—the High Elves in the middle and the Vanir and Night Elves on either side. At one end of the hall was a low stage. I sat with the Night Elf leadership just in front, squeezed between Thyra and Ilvis. I would have liked to think this was an honor, but I suspected instead that they were keeping a close eye on me.
I didn’t see any signs of Gorm or the rest of the High Elf royalty. Probably for the best. I wasn’t sure what I would do if I had to eat dinner ten feet from Galin.
“Ali, are you alright?” Thyra asked.
“I’m fine,” I said. “Just really tired.”
That much was true. I was exhausted. Not only had I fought in a battle, I’d been up for nearly twenty-four hours, much of it spent shivering in the snow. My body ached.
Thyra touched my shoulder gently. “You did well out there.”
I looked down at my empty plate. The Shadow Lord was kinder than I’d expected. She wouldn’t be kind if she knew I’d had a chance to kill Galin and thrown it away. I felt like I’d thrown something else away, too, but I couldn’t quite piece my feelings together into anything coherent.
I wanted to change the subject. “How long do you suppose it will be before they feed us?”
The faintest hint of a smile wrinkled the Shadow Lord’s face. “Who knows? I don’t think the High Elves expected this many guests.”
“And they will house us?”
“Yes, the contract states that the High Elves are to house and feed all participating elves until the Winnowing is complete.”
I let out a low whistle. “Fancy.”
Last time I’d visited the Citadel, King Gorm had tried to have me killed, and I’d nearly been thrown down the Well of Wyrd. Now, I was about to be served a feast in their main hall as a guest of honor.
“Excuse me?” A golden-haired elf appeared between us. Dressed in a black and white servant’s outfit, she held a large pitcher of golden liquid. “Shall I fill your cup?”
Thyra shook her head.
“And you, miss?” she asked me. “Would you care for some mead?”
After today’s events, there was no way I was going to say no to free booze. “Hel yes. Please.”
The server filled my glass with the golden liquid. It smelled herbal and faintly sweet, and I eagerly took a sip. Crisp and dry, with only the faintest taste of honey. Gods, I could get used to this. We don’t have this sort of thing underground.
When a trumpet suddenly sounded, I jumped, nearly spilling the mead across my plate. Seemed I was still a little tense from the battle.
A herald dressed in golden stockings, a cream doublet, and a gold embroidered coat stood in the center of the stage. He pressed a calf’s horn to his lips and blew a long note until the hall was silent, then he spoke. “Announcing his Royal Majesty, Ruler of Midgard, Leader of the High Elves, King Gorm, accompanied by his family: Princes Galin and Sune, and lovely Princess Revna.”
So much for a Galin-free dinner.
From a side door, King Gorm appeared and strode onto the stage, chest puffed. He wore gold velvet and a