Page 77 of I Destroyed the Elf Prince's Harem

So, maybe the entire trip hadn’t been about walking and learning to sword fight. Following the shift in our relationship in Ulmenor, Nylian had been decidedly more hands on with me. Not that I was complaining. The attention was heavenly. I’d never known anyone so tender or playful, and I tried to return at least some of it. Dating and being outwardly affectionate were not my strong suits, though I was learning what I could from my lover.

Of course, it all had to be quite nauseating for those stuck with us.

Things were awkward now. Not that Nylian seemed to care in the least. The Wolfrest prince threaded his fingers through mine and pulled me a step closer to where his uncle was doing his best impression of a deer trapped in a set of semi headlights.

“Prince Victor Montcroix, may I introduce you to my uncle, Duke Thallan Elrich, Guardian of the Western Border and Blackscar Fortress?”

As properly as I could manage, I pressed my right hand to my heart and bowed low to the man. Maybe even lower than I should have since I was a prince, but then this was Nylian’s uncle. I was desperate to make a good impression, though that impression might have been bruised because Nylian refused to release his hold on my left hand.

“It is an honor to meet you, Your Grace.”

“Uncle, this is Prince Victor Montcroix,” Nylian continued when I straightened. “I know the rumors, and they don’t matter. It’s a long story, but the short of it is, Victor has been my friend and protector for weeks now. He has stood by me and believed me when most of the world would rather believe the worst. I won’t be parted from him ever.”

Thallan’s piercing blue eyes locked on to my face and didn’t waver for several painful heartbeats. When I was sure that he was going to declare bullshit on everything Nylian had said, he released a laughing sigh and patted his stomach. “I only wish I could be there when you tell your father that.”

My elf rolled his eyes at his uncle and turned to motion to Adeline and Jasper. “Adeline and her younger brother, Jasper, have also been our traveling companions. Adeline is a skilled mercenary, and Jasper is a wizard in want of a proper mentor.” Both Jasper and Adeline bowed to the duke, appearing more comfortable and agile in their movements than I could.

“And the rodent hiding in his robes?” Thallan inquired.

“That would be Master Binx, a wizard who suffered an unfortunate accident in Ulmenor.” Nylian cleared his throat as if he were trying to halt a chuckle before it could trickle out. “That is another reason we need a proper mentor for Jasper.”

The duke made a face that left me thinking he wished he hadn’t asked. His smile was a little stiff when he nodded to Adeline and Jasper. “Welcome to Blackscar Fortress. I’m sorry it isn’t for happier circumstances. I’ll have Captain Elion show your companions to some comfortable rooms where they can rest up from their long journey.”

The soldier who had been acting as a shadow for the duke stepped forward, holding out his arm toward the door to get us moving out of the room so the duke and his nephew could speak alone. Nylian had just released my hand, only to grasp my wrist to stop me from moving away from him.

“Wait. You have news from West Vale?” Nylian demanded, his eyes locked on his uncle.

“Yes, but this is a private matter. You can…” His words trailed off when Nylian shifted his attention to Adeline and Jasper.

“Get some rest. We’ll join up for dinner and discuss our plans.” Adeline and Jasper accompanied Captain Elion out of the room without another word, while Nylian continued to hold on to me as if I were his one lifeline in this world.

“Be reasonable, Xeran. He’s a prince for a country that has been hostile to ours for years. You can’t want to talk about family affairs in front of him,” Thallan argued, holding his hands out to his nephew. He looked at me with a wince. “No offense, Your Highness.”

“None taken, and I understand.” I lifted the wrist Nylian refused to release and brushed my lips across the knuckles. “Your uncle is right to be hesitant. Spend some time talking with him. When you’re done, you can come tell me what you think I need to know for us to continue on our journey.”

“That’s a waste of time. I’ll repeat to you everything that Uncle tells me. It’s better if you simply stay.”

I turned my attention to the duke. The ball was in his court. I tried, but if Nylian wanted me at his side, that was where I was going to stay. Thallan’s gaze darkened, but he relented in the end, motioning for us to move to a pale-yellow sofa and a matching set of chairs. Nylian chose the sofa and pulled me down next to him so that we were touching from hip to knee. It was only when he threaded our fingers together again that I noticed his palm had become sweaty, and his fingertips were ice cold.

Duke Thallan sat closest to Nylian in one chair. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. There was something about his stance that caused fear to clog my chest and choke off my air. This was going to be bad.

“I have some good news,” Thallan stated, though his smile was strained and even the few lines around his eyes had deepened. “I’ve received a private message from your father.” He paused and licked his lips. “Orian is still alive.”

“What?” I cried out.

Nylian shook his head. “That can’t be. They told me they had the ceremony. His body was turned to ash. He was returned to the dirt, trees, and water. That…that can’t be…I was told…”

“I know, and I’m sorry.” Thallan reached out to lay a comforting hand on Nylian’s arm, but the elf flinched, leaning closer to me.

“I don’t understand,” he said sharply, and my heart broke for him. His reaction seemed cold, but Nylian had spent the past few months grieving the loss of his beloved brother and suffering under the tremendous weight of being accused of murder. Hearing such good news didn’t erase all that pain.

“Orian is alive, but only just barely,” Thallan continued. He sat back in his chair, dropping his hands into his lap. “The royal healers and wizards halted the progression of the poison, keeping it from killing him, but he’s held in a magical field where time has been slowed to a crawl. They’ve identified the poison, but still need the antidote to cure him, and time is running out. The healers estimate Orian has a month, maybe two, until the poison claims him.”

Nylian sat for more than a minute with his eyes closed. His hand was so icy in mine and a fine trembling had gripped it, forcing me to cover his hand with my other one. His breathing grew ragged, but with time, it evened out as if he were gaining control over his emotions. My heart broke for him. I wanted to drag him out of Blackscar castle and away from all of this insanity, but there was no leaving. Not yet. Nylian was expected to locate this antidote so he could save his twin brother.

“What’s the poison? Where did it come from?” Nylian asked, his voice a tight whisper.

“The poison is called Widow’s Spite, and only one person makes it in all of Lockeheim—the King’s Royal Poison Maker, Duchess Helena Covington. She’s the one person who can make it because she’s the only person trained to handle the black-winged cobra.”

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