by Amy Patrick
I froze, tightening my grip on her. “Afraid of what? Are you saying you want to just go ahead and get it over with because you don’t think it will be good?”
“No. No—of course not. It will be good—I have no doubt. I’m afraid of something stopping the wedding—especially after this morning’s surprises.”
“What? Why?”
“Just a bad feeling.” She paused for a moment. “Have you met Ava’s fiancé Culley before?”
“No, why?”
“You made a reference to his father.”
“Oh that. I recognized his last name, and then I made the connection. His father is Audun Rune, the new head of the Dark Council. You met him, remember?”
Ryann’s eyes went wide and dark. “Of course. I also remember what Nox said that night—he said Audun was ‘mercenary.’ And then he said something about his ‘kid’—I can’t remember exactly. But it wasn’t flattering. Don’t you think it’s a weird coincidence that Ava’s betrothed happens to be Audun’s son?”
“No I don’t. Nox said her mother Thora is also on the Dark Council. It makes perfect sense according to the Elven tradition of arranged marriages. The two of them are of equal social rank.”
“I don’t like it,” she said for the second time today. “And I really don’t like him.”
“Good,” I pulled her close again, relishing the feel of her soft curves. “Because he’s about the best-looking Elf I’ve ever seen—and I don’t want him anywhere near my future bride.”
She broke into a bashful grin, obviously pleased by my possessiveness. “I could say the same thing about Ava and my future groom.”
I brought a hand up to cradle her jaw and made sure she was looking directly into my eyes. “Believe me, Ryann. You have nothing to worry about.”
Chapter Six
Ava
I moved restlessly around our suite, pacing from one stucco wall to the next, absently touching the ancient wall hangings and elaborately carved furniture. Not only was I in a foreign kingdom, I felt like I was in another time, another realm—a place I definitely did not belong.
Stopping in front of an unusual instrument, I plucked one string and felt the sweet note vibrating through me, bringing a tear to my eye with its exotic beauty.
What am I doing here? The people of Altum—especially the young king and his betrothed—had been too welcoming, too kind. Too trusting.
“You don’t seem quite comfortable, love.” Culley’s smooth voice came from behind me, making me jump. He’d entered my room without my realizing it. I wasn’t used to his near constant presence yet. “Feeling claustrophobic here in the Kingdom of Mud? One would expect the Light Court to offer a bit more… light.”
I turned to face him, started to speak and then stopped myself before beginning again. “It’s not that. I just… I didn’t realize they’d be like that.”
One of his brows arched in wry amusement. Was Culley ever not amused? He seemed to take nothing seriously.
“Who? The Light Elves?” he asked. “You’ve been to the Assemblage before haven’t you? Did you not meet any of them then? Or did you forget their… quaintness.”
“No, I mean Lad and his betrothed—the half-breed. They were… well, it wasn’t what I expected.”
I’d anticipated nerves when meeting the Light King and his future bride. I’d expected to be impressed even—I’d been warned about the devotion his people had to him. What I hadn’t predicted was the obvious devotion between the two of them. I had never even known love like that existed for members of our kind.
“And that’s a problem because?” Culley prompted.
I glanced back at him, uncertain whether I should put my feelings into words. “I’m not as sure as I was before about this plan.” I rushed to prevent any misunderstanding. The last thing I needed was for him to report to Audun that I was wavering in my commitment to our bargain. “I mean, I’m still in, of course. It’s just—now that we’re here, now that it’s real, I feel a bit… anxious. I don’t know if it’s going to work.”
A grin spread across Culley’s face. “Oh, now I see. Overwhelmed by all the true love vibes, are we? I know, it’s a bit sickening. If it makes you feel any better, I was surprised myself. They are really into it.” He rolled his eyes. “So then… what? Should I re-pack my bags?”
I frowned at his carefree tone. We couldn’t just leave Altum and defy his father’s orders. Well, maybe he could, but I couldn’t.
“You know that’s not a possibility for me.”
Culley picked up the instrument I’d been admiring and tucked it against his abdomen, picking out a few notes. He cocked his head and glanced up at me, the lazy set of his mouth betrayed by eyes keen with perception. “What is your deal with ‘the mighty Audun,’ anyway? He talks about you like you’re his favorite lap dog.”
Lapdog. I sniffed a humorless laugh at the analogy. Prized pit bull was more like it. Audun hadn’t put me into the ring and forced me to draw blood from my opponents, but he might as well have. The wounds I inflicted were much more difficult to heal. And we did have a deal, one that would earn me my freedom if I managed to pull this off—not that I would discuss the details with Culley.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I muttered, walking away from him and hoisting one of my suitcases onto the bed. Maybe if I started pulling out my pj’s he’d take a hint and leave.
Culley followed me, strumming chords as he strolled across the room. “Come on now, Angel. It isn’t right to keep secrets from your betrothed. Pretty soon we’ll know everything there is to know about each other.” Stopping beside me, he used one finger to lift a pair of lacey panties from my bag.
I whirled on him, snatching my undergarments from his hand, mortified heat creeping up my neck. “Why did you agree to the betrothal anyway? I know why I did it, but what could your father possibly have offered you to make you sign on for this?”
There was a flash of something in Culley’s eyes—pain? Sadness? It was only there for a split second, replaced immediately by his usual apathetic expression.
“Why not?” He shrugged. “Maybe I was bored.” He resumed strolling and strumming. “Maybe I’m tired of the fast life. Even the most dedicated of hellions needs a break every once in a while.”
I’d heard that about the son of Audun. He was rumored to be a globe-trotting wild child, irreverent and spoiled, his powerful parents covering his tracks whenever his partying got out of hand and left expensive destruction in its wake.
My life had been anything but decadent. Though my mother was also on the Dark Council, our fortunes had taken a downturn when my father had been killed years ago—by a human, of all things.
Since then, Mother had drowned herself in grief and coppery hair-dye, nurturing an intense hatred for the human race and fretting about her future. Her own glamour was basically useless now that she was a widow. All her expectations had fallen to me.
I pulled out my most comfortable, most modest pajamas and slammed the suitcase closed again. “Well, I have a job to do. And my mother is counting on me. I’m all she has. I owe her.”
“Aren’t you the dutiful daughter and loyal subject?” Culley laughed, dropping the instrument to his side. “I’m sure my father feels I owe him as well. Everyone owes him just because he walks the earth. I ignore half of what the tosser says and distrust the rest.”
Listening to his free-wheeling approach to life just underlined the constrained nature of mine. It was infuriating. “It’s so easy for you, isn’t it? You care about nothing and no one. You just glide through life with no responsibility, no one depending on you, doing whatever you want wherever you feel like doing it.”
Culley smirked. “Yeah, I’ve got it made all right. No ties, no dramas.” His voice didn’t sound quite as unbothered as his words did. Stepping closer, he surprised me by taking my hand, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles in a soft sweep. “If you want my advice, Angel, it’s simple. Don’t worry about whether it’s right or wrong
. As you said—you have your job to do. I have mine. Just get it done, get your mum off your back, and then get as far away from her and my father as you possibly can and live your life in peace. It always works for me.”
I stared up into his sky blue eyes, captured for a moment by the glimpse of vulnerability I’d seen in them.
“Culley?”
“Yes, my dear darling fiancée?” he quipped, bringing my hand to his lips for a meaningless kiss.
I yanked it back. “What is your job?”
He studied me for a moment through slitted eyes, his lips quirking with humor. “If I need your help, Angel, I’ll let you know. You’ve got enough on your plate, dealing with the Desperately Devoted Light King. I hope your glamour is as effective as it’s reputed to be.”
So did I.
Chapter Seven
Ryann
I stayed home Saturday night, hanging out with Mom and Daddy, who’d moved into the log house with us. Grandma Neena spent the majority of her time in Altum these days, and it didn’t make sense for Daddy to keep his apartment in Oxford now that he and Mom were back together.
I needed to be around the two of them tonight—to see concrete evidence that love could conquer all and persuade myself once again that my mother’s recent advice to trust in it was founded on something more than Sway. If my parents could overcome what they’d been through in the past year and a half, then surely Lad and I could make it past our own challenges, right?
Watching my parents snuggle on the couch after supper, I felt a sweet pang in my chest that had nothing to do with the romantic comedy streaming on the TV. They were truly happy. Mom was safe, and I had no doubt they’d spend the rest of their lives together.
Turning my attention back to the onscreen couple—who’d just reached the oops-we’re-being-forced-to-share-a-bed scene—I couldn’t help but think about Lad… and his refusal to share a bed with me before our wedding. The sweet pang was drowned by a dull, troubled ache in my chest, a sense of impending doom.
What was wrong with me? Lad loved me. We were getting married. He’d explained his reluctance to go ahead and bond early, but I couldn’t seem to shake this worry. After my parents’ split, it had been so hard for me to trust someone. And then when I finally had, Lad had broken off our relationship and sent me away.
Now we were together again and betrothed, and all was forgiven. He was it for me. But was I really that person for him? I guessed I wouldn’t feel entirely secure about it until the vows had been said and we were eternally bonded.
Perhaps reading the longing on my face, Mom asked, “What’s Lad up to tonight?”
“He’s busy with royal stuff.” My tone was grumpier than I’d intended it to be. I kept my eyes on the movie, trying to hide my bad mood.
“That is the deal you signed up for you know,” she reminded me. “Marriage requires compromise—and it won’t all be easy, especially with his position.”
“I can’t get over the fact that my little girl is going to be a queen. I need to work on my curtsy,” Daddy teased. He rose from the couch and executed a dainty little bow, pretending to hold out the hem of an imaginary skirt.
I tossed a throw cushion at his head. “Daddy. Get real.”
After Mom had healed from the whole Olympics debacle, Grandma and I had sat down with her and told her the truth about her Elven heritage. She’d taken it a whole lot better than I’d expected.
“I was pretty confused the whole time I was with Davis,” she’d admitted. “But I did understand there were things going on that were not normal. And it fills in a lot of blanks about Mama and her mysterious past. And my own past with Davis.”
The chief rule of the Elven people—Light and Dark Courts alike—was to keep the secret. Telling Mom was not the worst offense and had been inevitable, really. She was half Elven. What I hadn’t counted on was that she’d tell Daddy.
“I promised him total honesty from now on,” she’d explained, wholly unrepentant. “If you choose to use your Sway to make sure he never tells anyone, that’s your business, but I’m not keeping anything from him ever again.”
So far, I hadn’t felt the need to do that. He’d sworn never to speak of it outside our family, and besides, I had seen the destructive effect Davis’s Sway had on Mom’s brain. He’d nearly killed her, and my Sway was at least as powerful as his. I didn’t want to risk Daddy’s health that way.
“Are you two having trouble, honey?” Mom asked.
Like me, she had inherited Grandma Neena’s glamour for emotional acuity. It came in very handy in her job dealing with grieving families at the funeral home. Here at our home, it could be downright annoying. I had a hard time hiding anything from her.
“No. No trouble.” I sighed and reached for another handful from the popcorn bowl. “I’m just ready for the wedding to get here. It’s hard to wait.”
“You’re afraid something’s going to happen before then.” Her words were a statement, not a question. Once again, she’d nailed it.
“No I… yes. I am a little nervous about it. Some visitors arrived in Altum today, and that’s bound to change things. At the very least, Lad’s going to be busy, sharing information with the new ambassador and entertaining her.”
“Ambassador? What’s she like?”
Mom had visited Altum a couple of times, but despite her interest in the home of her ancestors, she said she felt too strange around an entire race of people who communicated silently. I’d told her about mind-to-mind communication and even tried to do it with her, but she had given it only a half-hearted effort. She’d said she was too old to embrace her Elven side after all these years not knowing about it. It didn’t dampen her curiosity to hear about my experiences, though.
“Sophisticated, charming, a supermodel—your typical Dark Elven nightmare,” I said, answering her question about Ava.
Daddy laughed. “You can’t doubt Lad’s commitment to you. I’ve seen him around you. He’s totally in love.” Taking his seat next to Mom again, he patted her thigh and gave her a quick kiss.
“I know.” I rolled my eyes at my own neurotic tendencies. “It’s stupid. I just have trust issues, I guess.”
My father’s face fell. I knew he felt partially responsible for that, though I hadn’t said it to make him feel guilty. There were reasons behind his brief affair and the months he’d spent on the road away from us—the main one was sitting right beside him wearing an identical expression of dismay. But they’d forgiven each other and seemed to be moving past it.
“I know you do, baby,” Mom said. “That’s largely my fault. But it’s never too late to change.” She glanced over at my father. “For any of us. Just try to have faith in Lad and in your love. It’s all going to work out.”
Later that night I lay in my bed in my childhood room, staring at the wide, dark window that faced the backyard and the woods beyond it. Unable to sleep, I thought about my parents’ words. Was Mom right? Could I change?
I wanted to. I wanted to be someone who could love without question, trust without fear, but the future was as boundless and impossible to see as the midnight forest and all the secrets it held.
A tiny flash of light caught my attention. One firefly, then another, then another landed on my window, illuminating my room by tiny increments. Within minutes, the entire window was covered by bright, pulsing sparks of light—a message from Lad that he was thinking of me.
In that moment, I vowed I would change, and my heart swelled with new determination.
I would let go of the past completely—let go of worry and trust in him, trust in us. He deserved that from me.
Goodnight my love, I whispered in my mind.
Goodnight sweet girl, he said back to me from somewhere deep in Altum, and finally I closed my eyes and rested in the knowledge of his love and the fact that nothing—and no one could wipe out our beautiful future together.
Chapter Eight
Lad
Our new ambassador was not at all what
I’d expected. Ava was bright and funny, eager to learn, and like Ryann, full of surprises.
On the morning after her arrival, she startled me by entering the dining room of the royal residence early, smiling and appearing rested from her cross-country journey. I was usually one of the first to be up and dressed in the mornings. I typically ate breakfast alone except for the servants who moved quietly in and out of the room. It was a routine I enjoyed, allowing me time to think and prepare for the day ahead.
This day was different though. I’d be showing Ava around, answering her questions. I’d have questions for her as well—there was much I had to learn about the Dark Court and its citizens—how many of them were antagonistic toward the Light Court and opposed to our peace treaty, for instance.
“Good morning.” Her voice was a happy sing-song. She seemed so young to be an ambassador—I’d expected an authoritative older man, not a girl my own age—at least she looked about my age. She was dressed in human clothes that would probably have made Ryann drool. I’d been told Ava was a fashion model, and I supposed that came with a nice wardrobe.
I pushed my chair back and stood. “Good morning, Miss Morten.”
“Oh, call me Ava, and please have a seat. Whatever you do, don’t call me Miss Morten. That’s my mother’s name, and God forbid I remind you—or anyone—of her. Besides, I don’t think I’ll qualify for the title of Miss until I’m at least thirty.”
She smiled brightly and filled a plate from the buffet laid out on a nearby counter. Bringing it to the table where I sat, she plopped it down without waiting for an invitation. I stood again to pull out her chair for her, and she laughed as she sat down.
“Oh my gosh. You Light Elves are so mannerly. I feel like I’ve stepped into a Regency romance novel or something.”
“I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable. Ryann likes it. But I know I’m probably out of step with the humans and Dark Elves you are usually around.”