by Emma Hamm
Battle did not scare her. She didn’t even care about the clothing that she’d ripped apart to move easier. Like a true warrior would.
This was not the kind of woman he’d expected to come to the bridal games. The Umbral Knights would tell the King what had happened. He was certain of that. The King would then want to meet her. This starlight woman who fought like a man.
And now she released his pixies.
Abraxas would have his hands full keeping this woman alive.
Shaking his head, he moved through the hallways toward the King’s private quarters. As he walked, he wondered what the potential brides thought of this castle and all its luxuries. Magical pixie lights hung from every corner that someone could attach a string to. The walls were covered with the finest wallpaper, every hall a different color or pattern, so the servants knew where they were going. And the warm oak floors had been carefully crafted a hundred years ago from trees that no longer existed.
He should mourn those losses. He’d seen those trees when they had grown so tall, even the dragons had flown around the forest lest they fly too high and lose their breath in the clouds.
It had been so long since he’d been in the King's service, however, that he’d forgotten what it meant to be nostalgic. Those memories dulled in comparison to a hundred years of torment and suffering.
Abraxas pressed his hand to a giant blue flower on the wall, the symbol of the King, and the secret entrance opened. He didn’t look to see if anyone was watching him. Abraxas would know. The hairs on his arms would stand on end, unless the person was a magical creature. And if they were, well... he almost hoped they’d find this secret entrance and save them all.
The rooms beyond were an entire wing of the castle that dripped with too much beauty. Just walking into these rooms always made his eyes burn.
The King preferred gold. His father had preferred crimson. Together, they had created a series of gilded rooms with wallpaper that looked like it were dripping blood onto the floor. He hated every second of this place. The King thought it made him a stronger man to live like he was always in a war. No matter that Zander had never even seen a war, nor had he ever seen a battle.
A cluster of maids stood around the King. Zander had apparently forgotten a shirt, or perhaps he thought it appropriate to be half naked with a group of women surrounding him. Each woman had her hands full of different fabric and material.
The King faced a floor to ceiling mirror with the edges wrapped in gold leaf, his reflection one of a handsome man who was ridiculously proud of himself. Zander touched a hand to his chest now and then, lovingly stroking the soft planes of his chest. As though the body he saw was the most perfect one anyone could ask for.
He snapped his fingers and one maid held up the fabric in her hands.
Ah. This was a fitting.
Abraxas snagged a gilded chair from the corner and dragged it across the floor. The noise screamed through the room and a few of the maids flinched. Zander, to his credit, hardly reacted other than to glare at the dragon.
“Is that necessary?” the King snarled. “I’m trying to look my best for the brides.”
“Potential brides,” Abraxas corrected. He stopped dragging the chair once he reached the middle of the room, then sat down on the hard red cushion. “What are you doing, anyway? Your outfit was fine before.”
“But now it will be the most magnificent they have ever seen. Don’t you know anything about women, Abraxas? They want to be wooed with luxury and colors and pretty things.” He waved his hand, and the next maid lifted her doublet so he could see it in the mirror. “They don’t care about the castle or the food. They care about what I can give them.”
That seemed like a horrible relationship to be setting himself up with, but what did Abraxas know about mortal women? He nodded sagely, as though the King had spoken only the truth. “Then I look forward to dinner.”
“Why are you here, Abraxas?” Zander snarled.
“I’m the head of your personal guard. I’m supposed to be here at all times to ensure that no one has tried to take your head off.” Not that he would mind it all that much. But he was bound to those eggs and to his people. He had to do whatever the King wanted.
“I hardly doubt any of my maids are going to do that. Not a single one of them is strong enough to do it, anyway.” Zander snapped his fingers again.
But Abraxas noted the women’s expressions behind the King’s back. One of them couldn’t hide the widening of her eyes, and another couldn’t hide the blush that stained her cheeks. These were working women. Their arms were strong, their backs even stronger. They had taken life by the horns and dared to work for the King.
Maids weren’t weak little creatures that the King could easily overwhelm. Abraxas would bet on any of the maids if a fight broke out in this room.
He winked at the girl with bright red cheeks. “I think I’ll stick around, if it’s all right with you. No offense to your fighting skill, my king, but these maids look terrifying indeed.”
A few of the women giggled. At least he’d won them over. In his opinion, it was more important to be friends with the servants than the nobles. At least then he’d get an extra biscuit at dinner.
Zander sighed. “Would you stop flirting with the help? You’re a dragon! Have a little dignity.”
“I lost that a long time ago.” He settled his ankle on the opposite knee, reclining in the chair without a care in the world. “Would you hurry up, though? I’m getting hungry.”
“You will wait until I’m ready. And put something nicer on than that, would you? The women will think you’re some vagabond who walked in from the street.” The King sniffed and returned his attention to the clothing.
Abraxas settled in for a long night. He knew the King’s moods could shift like the breeze, and the last thing he needed was to offend Zander before dinner. But he wouldn’t change. There was nothing wrong with the clothing he wore currently, even if Zander thought his outfit was messy.
The entire process of dressing the King took longer than Abraxas had anticipated. The sun was already setting on the horizon before Zander had finally clothed himself and liked what he saw in the mirror.
“Well?” Zander asked, stepping in front of Abraxas and smoothing his hand down his sleeve one more time.
The King had chosen a bright purple outfit for dinner. The collar was too high around his neck. Gemstones had been painstakingly stitched down the shoulder and arms, perhaps to create a line for the eyes to follow. But the King didn’t have the shoulders for that embellishment. And the pants... The pants were studded with amethyst chunks that Abraxas could not believe were comfortable to sit on.
However, he looked back up into the King’s eyes and smiled. “You will stun the ladies with this fashion choice, my king.”
“And you will terrify them with yours.” Zander waved a hand in the air. “I pity the fool who tries to teach you how to dress. It certainly won’t be me.”
Abraxas pitied whoever tried to teach the dragon that as well. It wouldn’t be a fruitful meeting, nor would he listen to the advice of mortals who put gemstones on their clothing instead of within a hoard.
He plastered a bright smile on his face and bowed. “Someday, you may have the satisfaction of seeing a person try, Zander. But for now, I do believe your ladies are waiting for us.”
“Indeed. As they should be.” The King straightened the arm of his jacket one last time, before leading the way through the castle to the grand dining hall.
Abraxas had always thought the dining hall was too ridiculous for anyone to take seriously. The chandelier on the ceiling dripped with diamonds, casting rainbows all over the walls and floor. The table itself had the legs of a lion and seated almost a hundred people. Each chair was crafted by the most talented of woodworkers in Umbra. Some of them had flowers crawling up and over the back. Others were carved with wings, birds, even other strange creatures that Abraxas couldn’t name.
Those chairs were
already filled with all the ladies who might one day become queen. They watched the King with hungry eyes. All of them dressed in the best gowns they had brought with them. It was overwhelming even looking at some of them who were covered in so much jewelry that Abraxas didn’t know how anyone could see past the glittering stones.
The King didn’t let his eyes linger on anyone in particular. He marched to the head of the table, sat down in his chair, and then opened his arms wide. “Welcome to the feast, ladies of my heart! Tonight there will be no tests. No talk of marriage. I wish only for you to enjoy your first night here. And perhaps for a few of us to speak.”
Whispers billowed through the room, so suddenly that Abraxas could almost feel a slight breeze from their breath. The ladies were obviously unhappy with what Zander had said. As Abraxas stationed himself behind the King, he read the lips of each lady who had started to speak.
One in bright blue leaned over to the girl in yellow and whispered, “I just want to get this all over with. Why can’t we get on with all this? I don’t understand why he wants to wait.”
The girl in yellow covered her mouth with her hand for part of what she said, but then said, “—with all the deaths, I can’t imagine he wouldn’t give some of the women time to grieve.”
Ah, yes. The deaths. Even Abraxas had forgotten that there had been numerous young women lost on the way to the castle. The King apparently had forgotten as well. He doubted that Zander would be so kind as to allow these young women the time to heal. The King didn’t want to play any games tonight. Perhaps he was tired, or perhaps he was hungry.
Whatever it was, he didn’t do anything other than look at the women, smile, and have a few bantering conversations with the ladies who were seated directly next to him. Considering they were the ones who had the most jewelry on their bodies, he was sure the head housekeeper had something to do with that. Agatha always did like to meddle.
He was certain there were no dangers to the King at present, other than the young ladies who were certain they would steal his heart with their batting eyelashes. Abraxas let his eyes wander, looking down the table as though he had to find her. Unbidden, he stared at the young woman who had no right to be so pretty in such a plain dress.
Lorelei sat in between two hideously colored abominations. One girl wore a neon blue so bright that it hurt to look at, the other a putrid green. Perhaps that was a blessing, however, because it made her black dress look a little nicer, even though it wasn’t.
She had no jewelry. No one had done her hair to look stunning, like the other girls. She had worn it in a low twist at the back of her head, clearly done by her own hand.
He could only assume she’d come here alone. Many of the other women had their siblings with them.
Her eyes missed nothing. She watched the other women with a calculating glance that saw far too much. Abraxas couldn’t help but wonder what her past was. Her history. She didn’t react to any situation like a normal woman.
Lorelei leaned forward and put her elbows on the table, only to flinch back as she noted none of the other women were doing that.
The other women here had come from the same place. They all had seen the poverty of Tenebrous, but none of them were so uncomfortable as her. She made her way through the meal in silence, watching to see which was the right fork to use or the right knife.
She really had no idea what she was doing.
Abraxas remained still as stone as he watched her. If anyone had cared to look behind the King at the head of his personal guard, they might have wondered why he was so invested in this single, unremarkable woman.
He didn’t have an answer for that. He didn’t know if he could put it into words why he wanted to see her every move and understand her every choice. She was so different, so unexpected, and perhaps that was the real reason why he was so curious.
The others were predictable. They moved in the same way as the others. They spoke the way he thought they would, and some of them even dressed the way he assumed they would. And yet, she defied all he knew about mortal women.
And that was curious.
He wanted to understand her. He hadn’t wanted to do that in a very long time.
Lorelei lasted through most of the dinner before she cast a sideways glance and then slowly stood. No one else noticed. They all talked amongst each other and then, strangely, the two women she’d sat between talked with each other as though she had never sat in that chair.
He couldn’t help himself.
He had to follow her.
Chapter 13
Lore
She wanted to kick herself for not even making it through the first dinner. Lorelei knew better. If she wanted to capture the King’s attention, then she had to actually be present in the room for him to look at her. Her best bet with a man like him was her looks, not that she had much looks in comparison to the other women.
But the girls next to her had started talking about the King. And that had naturally led to a conversation about magical creatures.
They had listed off the ones they’d seen in their lives, obviously adding pixies to that list now that they’d seen the jarred lights. Lorelei had gotten lost for a second, wondering about the pixie she’d left in her room. The little woman had promised it wouldn’t wander off, but it was a pixie. They weren’t exactly the most reliable.
Then she’d heard the words that turned the entire dinner into a waking nightmare.
“Have you ever seen an elf?” one of them had asked.
“No, but I heard they’re hideous beasts. All the legends claim they’re so beautiful, but my father said they were disgusting monsters. He said everyone who looked at them remembered why they hated magical creatures.” The girl in the neon blue dress then lifted a snail to her lips and sucked the meat out of the shell. “What use were they, anyway? All they wanted to do was wander around in the woods. Heathens.”
Then, of course, the conversation devolved into further speculations about her kind and why the elves didn’t last. They were all wrong, of course. None of the elves had given up their place in this realm. They had been incredible fighters, warriors to the very core. Nothing the girls said was true and yet... The words still hurt.
Lorelei couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t sit at that table with all these people who wanted to laugh at her people’s expense. Women who knew what fork and knife to use in a setting like this, but who also couldn’t see past their own transgressions.
If she could have slapped the smug expression off every one of their faces, she would have. She’d have hit them so hard they might have felt something other than disdain for her kind.
But she couldn’t. And that meant she needed to leave.
Lorelei quietly stood and made her way down the table. Perhaps it was the black gown she’d chosen to wear, or maybe she was using magic without knowing, but no one looked at her. No one even noticed that she’d left her seat and wandered out into the hall.
The door she opened didn’t lead her into a hall, however. It led her into what appeared to be the servant’s stairwell. At least it would give her a little privacy for what she was embarrassed that she was about to do.
Lorelei let all her fear and worry coil up in her chest. A wave of cold rolled down over her head, although she immediately started sweating even as goosebumps broke out over her arms. And her heart raced with the tears gathering in her eyes. A panic attack was the worst thing to happen right now but… but…
She was tired.
So damned tired.
All she wanted to do was retreat to her room, where she could curl up under the covers and pretend she wasn’t here. Lorelei wasn’t used to so many people wandering around, so many eyes on her at all times.
But most of all, she hated that everyone judged her. For what she was. What she might be. And finally, what they thought was impossible for her to be.
What would they do if they found out she was an elf? She had no idea. The women had no power here, that was
for certain, but what if the King found out? Obviously, they all were in agreement that women or creatures like her shouldn’t exist.
A knock resounded through the small corridor, and Lorelei curled in on herself. She wasn’t proud of the movement. She’d survived worse than a startling sound in her life, and yet she cowered like a woman under attack.
“My apologies.” His deep voice eased down her spine like a soft touch. “I didn’t think you’d be surprised. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you startled.”
“Abraxas,” she said with a long sigh. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to find me in here.”
Least of all him. Why wouldn’t this guard leave her alone? She wasn’t sure what had gotten into him, but he always seemed to be around when she didn’t want him to be around.
Lorelei swiped her hands underneath her eyes and hoped it wasn’t so obvious that she’d been crying. Turning slowly, she put a brave face on and tried her best to look like herself. “Can I help you?”
“Funny, I was thinking about asking the same question of you.” He took another step into the room, gently closing the door behind him. “I hope you know that your absence will eventually be noticed.”
“I’m not sure anyone in that room even noticed I got up and left,” she replied.
That shouldn’t sting. If they didn’t notice her leaving, then that meant it would be that much easier to become the assassin that she was supposed to be. And yet, it made her feel thoroughly unwanted.
They had already made it very obvious that they thought her people were lesser. Maybe that was why it stung so much. Even not knowing that she was an elf, they still treated her like she wasn’t worth their time or effort.
Lorelei needed to get some room to breathe, and she didn’t have that opportunity while this man took up even more air.
He watched her a little too closely, as though he could read her mind while her thoughts played through her head. “I’m not sure what you’re thinking, Miss Lorelei, but I think it’s rather obvious that you are not enjoying your first dinner in the Umbral Court.”