Prologue
ARLET
One year ago…
There are bad decisions, and then there’s ’I agreed to charm a foreign sovereign with my human allure in order to win his support in the upcoming war.’
Before dread can burrow under my skin, I see the faces of my loved ones, and my nerves cool from bright embers to brittle charcoal. The crystals glowing overhead banish the creeping darkness of my path and illuminate the guards escorting me to the Elf King's chambers.
It will be fine. He’s friendly. This evening won’t end in tragedy. You are perfectly capable.
But I twist my fingers. I’d never been totally at ease with men, and this would be the first night I would be mostly alone with one since…
I shake my head, distracting myself.
Though I have never met King Arion, my closest friend, Estela, has painted a portrait of an elf who is aloof, cold, and maddeningly hard to read.
One might ask why a weaving woman would be dealing with a foreign official.
When Estela and I walked into Enduvida with a trading caravan a few months ago, we were the first human women to ever visit. It shocked us all to learn that Estela, the woman close enough to me to be my sister, was King Teo’s mate. This meant she was goddess-destined to marry the king of the trolls.
It was a stroke of luck because the enduares, once called trolls, may be the only people with enough honor to see the gift of our matehood as not something to be exploited, but cultivated upon principles of choice and consent.
In a world where the larger, magical races thrive, humans are on the cusp of emerging as a people with a modicum of sway.
I volunteered to meet with a foreign official, though I have no experience in such matters because the elves only agreed to negotiate with the enduares for one reason. Their birthrates are also dropping, and they wish to see if they, too, might be blessed to mate with my kind.
Estela and I are the only human women in this city, and her wedding ceremony will be tonight at the Festival of Endu, the celebration of the Enduar Gods.
That left me to bear the weight of my people’s future for an evening.
Two months ago, I’d been a slave shackled to a loom, weaving until my fingers bled to produce the finest clothes for the giant court, and now, I stand tall.
Free.
I was free to stop weaving when I was weary, free to speak my language openly, and free to make precarious choices that both strengthen my freedom and propagate freedom for othersjust like me.
It is a miracle for someone like her to be raised up as a sovereign and show the world we are equals. It is only right I do my part.
So here I am. Nervous. Overwhelmed. On my way to win over the elf king, potentially be mated to him or one of his guards, and to prove that my people are worth fighting for. Nothing improper is meant to occur. I will simply accompany him to the festival... and yet, sweat collects in my palms and my heart races.
The city of Enduvida buzzes with life. A small choir gathers nearthe bright red temple in the middle of the cavern, their voices rising toward a massive blue crystal in the ceiling that concentrates sound. This focused note is then carried by smaller crystals scattered throughout the cavern, weaving a tapestry of melodies across the open space.
Several tall white structures of murky citrine encircle the pulsing red Ardorflame temple, adding to the vibrant scene.
Dioses míos,it’s a beautiful sight.
I smooth my hand over the beaded bodice of my pale pink dress as I hurry down the twisting stone corridor of the palace’s east wing.
The Enduar Palace is one of many structures within the massive cavern, and, as with everything under the mountain, parts of it connect directly to the cave tunnels. Sneaking a glance at the two tall, blue hunters on either side of me, I take a deep breath to steady my smile.
They were quiet. Friendly. I liked them well enough.
Joso is on the right, with bright, silver hair that is woven into three plaits that form a thick braid, a style only worn by men and mated women. His square jaw would be severe if he didn’t constantly smile at everyone who passes. He wears armor, with a tail flicking behind him.
All the troll men and women have that tail—an added appendage that extends from the base of their spines and then finishes in one tuft of hair the same color as the locks upon their head. I’d seen them used for practical things like picking up objects, but I’d also seen them used for fighting and affection.
Usually, when it was flicked like that, it showed someone’s conflicted anger.