Page 135 of The War and Deceit Series omnibus

“Not that anything is going to happen to you,” I demand, narrowing my eyes as he winces before lifting his gaze to mine.

“We can’t know that.” His voice is much softer now, as if that makes it any better, but if anything, it only stokes my anger and fear even more.

“Vaeril, you can’t talk like that. Just the thought of you dying—” I cut off, feeling sick to my stomach. I’m not sure when I started caring for Vaeril. Sure, when we were escaping andtravelling, I cared, but more out of obligation. When we reached Galandell, that obligation disappeared but the feeling remained.

“Sorry, princess, but people die. It’s part of life. I thought even you would understand that,” Eldrin interjects, sneering at me across the table. His hatred practically oozes through his pores and fills the air with tension. His comment stings, especially considering he knows about my history as a slave, but I refuse to let him see he’s upset me. Vaeril is vibrating with anger beside me, and even Naril is watching his brother with a raised eyebrow as if surprised by his behaviour.

Meeting his scornful gaze, I simply stare. I don’t force a smile or try to say anything, knowing I will crack if I do, and he doesn’t deserve that kind of emotion from me. Slamming down his cutlery, he pushes away from the table and leaves Vaeril’s rooms without another word.

Vaeril and Naril stay silent with their eyes on me, barely moving, as if doing so will cause me to break. But I’m not as delicate as they seem to think I am, not anymore. Taking a deep breath, I pick up my spoon again and stir my porridge. I’m not hungry any longer, my appetite has fled with the angry elf who left the room, but I force myself to eat it.

“He’s in a pleasant mood this morning,” I murmur, and they seem to release a breath at my comment, returning to their food.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into him,” Naril says, as he stares down at his bowl of porridge, his frustration clearly evident in his voice. “Vae is like a brother to us. We got him back when we had almost given up entirely on ever seeing him again. But all Eldrin can seem to do is make gibes at you.” The pain in his voice makes me pause. Perhaps Naril isn’t as vapid as I had assumed he was. He’s hurting and he needs his twin to help him through it, but Eldrin is dealing with it in a different way—by taking it out on me. I can understand where his hatred comes from, Iexperienced it myself when I first met Vaeril, but this seems to be more personal than just a blanket hatred for humans.

“He hates humans, and humans took Vaeril,” I respond with a shrug as if it’s easy, like his hateful words simply slide off my back. “I’m everything he’s been taught to hate.”

“But you don’t hate us,” he observes, pointing his spoon at me, getting more animated as he speaks. “You walked into your enemy’s homeland and brought Vaeril back to us, knowing you would be treated badly. You should be hailed as a hero, not treated like a prisoner.”

That thought makes me uncomfortable. It’s bad enough that the servants had started calling me ‘beloved’ before I left, I’m not sure I could cope with people treating me like a hero as well.

“They’re scared,” I argue, forcing myself to finish the rest of my breakfast, even though it tastes like ash in my mouth. “There are hundreds of years of prejudice to work past, it won’t go away overnight.”

“You’ll win them over. You already are,” Vaeril comments dryly, but when I spin in my seat to look at him with wide eyes, I see he’s smiling. “I keep getting messages from one of the prison guards checking that you’re okay.” Rolling his eyes, he chuckles slightly, with Naril joining in at the other end of the table.

“Kaelir! Is he okay? He didn’t get into trouble for feeding me, did he? I’ll have to go and see him and Elier.” My words come in a rush. Guilt fills me that I’ve barely thought of them since I was released from the prison. I vow to myself that I’ll find a way to visit the two of them soon.

“Wait, why would he get in trouble for feeding you?” Vaeril sounds angry, and I raise an eyebrow at him. Surely he didn’t think the queen was going to make sure I was given fine cuisine while I was in prison? Is that how prisoners are usually treated here?

“The queen didn’t want me to be fed.” I shake my head. I don’t understand where his sudden anger is coming from, his changing emotions are giving me whiplash. “Didn’t you pick that up from her comments about me being starving?”

“No,” he grinds out between clenched teeth, and I suddenly understand his frustration. “I thought she was making a jab at how thin you are.”

I can understand why he might think that. I wouldn’t put it past the queen to mock my years of starvation or the toll it’s taken on my body.

“Who’s Elier?” Naril inquires with a slight smile, his eyebrows raised as he watches us with thinly veiled amusement. Vaeril observes me closely, as if he wants to know the answer too.

“He’s the guard who brought me back to the palace after they found us by the lake,” I reply with a shrug, before taking a sip of water from my glass, feeling self-conscious under their intense gazes.

Naril barks out a laugh. “So he imprisoned you, and you want to ensure he’sokay?” His tone suggests that he thinks I’m mad. A grin stretches across his features as he turns to Vaeril. “Are all humans like this, or is yours just broken?” he questions with a shake of his head.

A flare of pleasure fills me when Naril calls me Vaeril’s human, but I push that feeling deep, deep down. Glaring at Vaeril, I dare him to reply, but he wisely doesn’t, his eyes sparkling with humour whilst his face is set in a neutral expression.

“He was kind to me when he didn’t have to be,” I reason, ignoring the ‘broken’ comment. I’ve always felt different, and perhaps that’s what it is—I’m broken. Part of me also wants to point out that I’m not human, at least not fully. I don’t fit with either group, and perhaps I never will.

Shaking my head at the somber thoughts, I glance over at Vaeril, who’s watching me carefully, as if he felt my dip in mood through our partially formed bond.

“What are we doing today?” I ask enthusiastically, as if the positiveness I force into my voice will carry through and I might actually feel it. The look Naril gives me tells me I’m not very convincing, but Vaeril just leans back in his chair as he continues to observe me. The silence stretches out between us, and I’m about to demand that someone say somethingwhen he clears his throat.

“I thought I’d take you on a tour of the palace this morning,” he offers, his voice carefully neutral as he waits for my reaction. A small flash of excitement fills me at the thought of exploring this gorgeous building, which is so different from the dark stone castle in Arhaven. The corner of Vaeril’s lips twitch up as he senses my eagerness, but his eyes stay carefully blank. I arch my eyebrow as I wait for whatever news he obviously feels like I’m not going to like.

“But the queen requires my presence this afternoon.”

Ah.I’ll assume I’m not invited,I think, forcing myself not to roll my eyes like I want to.

The elven queen is beautiful and serene, her people hailing her as a fair and just ruler. That is, until a human enters her realm. She was happily going to murder me on the spot when she first discovered my presence, until she was stopped, realising I had brought Vaeril back to her. I’d spent the night in a jail cell before Vaeril was well enough to demand my release.

He’d had a hunch that I was more than human, thanks to my abilities to sense, amplify, and break spells, so he had brought me to his old teacher, Master Ardeth. As the master librarian, Ardeth has endless knowledge and keeps records of all the elves that live in their land. Due to the bond that Vaeril and I share,which can only form between elves, it was clear that there had to be someelvish in me.

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