Vann's jaw muscles tense, and he lets out a growl. “The walls are thick. He won't be able to hear anything, and his guards don't seem to care."
He jerks his head toward the men in front of the door.
The one who had glared at me earlier lifts his chin in an impetuous smirk. "This is not our first time visiting the trolls. We are well acquainted with your barbarity."
The other huffs a laugh, and I watch the blue men around me cast sour looks in return.
I step toward Vann, determined to get him out of here. Fast.
"King Teo, the man you answer to, told me that it would benefit us all if we made a good impression on the elves," I say firmly. “And he didn’t ask, Ivolunteered.”
The first time I met Lord Vann, I was caring for Estela after a serious injury. He came to the door, demanding to see her, but I refused, as she was still asleep. As her best friend, there wasn’t achance in the bubbling mouth of the hottest volcano that I’d let someone near her in a vulnerable state.
He called me and all the other humans that’d come with me ungrateful, as if we hadn’t taken up positions to help after being treated for medical conditions. I myself had spent my first week here training on enduar sitting looms, volunteering with the children, and helping to heal his future queenout of gratitude.
When I told the Wise Woman Liana to make him leave, he didn’t like that, and he’s been a burr in my side every since.
Sadly, not everyone shares my bitter feelings. Apparently, he is something of a war hero among the enduares. Some call him, ‘The Cleaver’, in reference both to a long, wide blade that cut through ten thousand foes and the fact that the king, who had fought at his side, was called, ‘The Butcher of Giants.’
The brute shakes his head. "There are other ways to make a good impression. For one, let him observe you from a safe distance during the wedding ceremony.”
I blink. This is the same man who insulted me for the color of my hair, something I had always been tormented over, and bit me when I tried to tend to his wounds after he’d nearly died. Rallying my composure, I flash him a saccharine-sweet smile and decide to spew a bit of my own venom.
"Why, Lord Vann, it almost sounds like you care."
He sucks his teeth. "What will you do when one of them grabs you and presses a knife to your throat? You come from humble means, so I'll explain this slowly: just because we seek them as allies doesn't mean they are friends."
Ugh, fuck him.
“Humble means? I can read twice as well as you.” Pinching the bridge of my nose, I sigh. This always happens when we’re together, and no good comes from his incessant need to bicker. I turn my head to look at Joso. "Can you take Lord Vann away?"
"Firelocks, stop this," he starts as Joso moves toward him with an apologetic expression.
“No,” I bite back. “For the first time in ages, a few leaders see that my people holdpower.”
I don’t want that power to be rooted solely in our ability to preserve other bloodlines, though I do long for a family of my own. No, I dream of more. A future where we thrive, where our history stands beside the great societies of the world. I believe Estela’s wedding is the first step. The first real, lasting change.
No one will ruin that tonight.
"She knows what she's doing," Joso says firmly. “And we did get our orders from the king.”
Vann grinds his teeth, turns, and then storms away like one of the children I help at the school. But not before he calls over his shoulder, "If none of you will recognize the insanity in an unarmed human spending an evening with the same man who used to collect the teeth of his enemies during the war andwear them, then I will just wait to clean up the mess."
I watch him disappear around the bend of the grey stone studded with golden geometric carvings and let my shoulders fall back to a normal height.
He might be the only man I’ve ever met that makes me feel so vexed, and yet, he leaves me, surprisingly, unafraid.
Taking another breath, I turn back and walk up to the elvish guards. The nerves mount once more, but I face the things that frighten me without hesitation. I dip my chin to my chest as I sink into a shallow curtsy.
My brief study on elven culture revealed that they appreciate the feminine art to such salutes—similar to my old giant masters.
"Good evening. I've come to request an audience with His Majesty, King Arion.”
Chapter 1
ARLET
Present Day, or one year after the first meeting with the Elf King