Page 24 of Kingdom of Lies

"We shall begin your lessons tomorrow. But for today, I wish to spend time acquainting myself properly with my future mate."

I nod, assuming he means continuing our tours and conversations.

"The wedding will take place three days from now at noon," he adds matter-of-factly.

I gasp in shock. "Three days? So soon?"

Draknir smiles wryly. "Indeed. We must make haste before any obstacles arise to prevent our union."

“Obstacles?”

“Yes, but do not concern yourself with that,” he takes my arm and begins walking me.

I swallow hard and nod. His estranged relatives could ruin everything if given the chance.

"For now, we should become better acquainted, and ensure our backstory aligns," he continues.

Draknir offers to give me a tour of the estate. I accept nervously. Strolling the halls arm-in-arm will certainly bring us closer, but my heart flutters wildly at the prospect.

As we stroll through the tranquil palace gardens, Draknir begins opening up about his early life, reciting the facts plainly and efficiently.

"My father is from a noble family, but I…do not know him well. He wishes to press me into a marriage I do not want," he states neutrally, yet I detect a flicker of sorrow in his eyes.

“And your mother?”

“Is dead.” His voice is short. “I didn’t know her well, either.”

He goes on to tell me how the soldiers raised and trained him. He became a military recruit by the tender age of nine, desperate to find purpose and belonging.

My heart aches for the lonely boy behind the stoic soldier. I shyly take his hand in a gesture of comfort as we walk. To my surprise, he does not pull away.

Draknir continues unraveling the threads of his past matter-of-factly, but I listen with growing empathy, even though his dry recitation of facts seems to expect none. His has been a life devoid of love or family – until now.

It’s a strange thought that a dripir slop girl and her ill grandmother might be the closest to a family that he’s ever come, and even that’s all a lie.

It must be very lonely to be him.

As Draknir leads me through the grand rooms, furnishing details about his youth. "I excelled in all forms of combat training," he brags. "Mastered swordsmanship by thirteen. None could rival me."

I listen with interest as we walk. Draknir's arrogance masks a deep longing for connection. His skill and drive to succeed come from wanting to prove his worth, I realize.

"The other recruits envied my talents," he continues. "Not that they would dare challenge me – I could thrash the lot!"

I have to stifle a smile at his bluster. His swaggering confidence contrasts with the gentle way he guided me earlier today.

"You are unlike other elves I have known," I observe. "You showed me kindness in the forest, when no one else cared."

“I cannot abide needless suffering when I have the power to prevent it.”

His words reveal the compassion underneath the bravado. He is driven by more than just ambition. I see goodness in him that early hardship could not erase.

Whatever happens, I will remember this.

Just then, Draknir stops and frowns, scrutinizing me critically. "You are slouching. A lady must stand tall, like so–"

He boldly grasps my chin and tilts it up at a haughty angle. Then he presses a hand into my back, forcing my shoulders straight.

"Keep your bearing noble and proud," he instructs sternly. "Not hunched like some vagrant."

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