Page 144 of The War and Deceit Series omnibus

It is jealousy, I muse with grim amusement.So this is what it feels like.Rubbing at the spot in my chest again, I turn away from the throne, not wanting to see any more and hoping that this hateful feeling will disappear if I’m not watching them. A movement by the door catches my eye as I watch the elf shift from one foot to the other, like he’d rather be anywhere else but here. I continue to watch him until I realise that I know him.

“Vaeril, I’m just going to see my friend,” I tell him quickly, flashing him a quick smile, not waiting for his permission.

“Friend?” Naril repeats behind me with surprised amusement. I don’t care if they’re following me, and based on the looks I get from the elves I pass, that’s exactly what they’re doing. Several elves look like they’re about to stop me, to speak to me, but they glance behind me and quickly step out of my way.

“Kaelir,” I call, as I reach the alcove next to the door where the guard is standing, and I realise why it took me a moment to recognise him. Dressed in a smart jacket instead of his uniform, he looks uncomfortable as he pulls at the neckline of the form-fitting clothing. Hearing my call, he instantly looks up, on alert, until he sees me walking towards him with a smile, and then his face relaxes into a friendly expression.

The elf was one of my guards when I first came to Galandell, when the queen ordered my arrest. He guarded me in my cell,and while he was anxious around me, he treated me fairly. Before I was let out and Vaeril came to rescue me, Kaelir and I had started a fragile friendship. I’m not sure he would call me a friend, but he’s one of the closest things I have to one here other than Vaeril and Tor.

Pushing away from the wall, he dips his head respectfully towards me. “Miss Clarissa, I’m glad to see a friendly face.” His eyes flick past me, and a shadow falls over me, announcing the arrival of my entourage.

Tilting my head to one side, I ponder his comment. “What do you mean?” I question, glancing over my shoulder to the full ballroom behind me. “You’re surrounded by your people.” He works in the palace, or at least underneath it, so surely there must be at least one or two elves that he knows in attendance. Besides, if he’s here, there must be some other workers too. I’d assumed the celebration was only for the court, but I’m pleased to see him here—perhaps the queen isn’t as bad as I thought she was.

“Just because I’m the same race as them doesn’t mean I’m on the same level. I would have thought you would understand that.” He looks at my wrist meaningfully, and I realise what he’s saying—he’s a different class than the rest of the elves in the room. Shaking his head, he frowns slightly before remembering who’s standing behind me, and his face becomes carefully neutral as he tries to explain. “Most of the elves here are lords and ladies, or important people from the courts. Not many guards or palace workers get to attend these balls,” he finishes with an uneasy smile. He doesn’t want to be here, that much is clear.

An alarm bell goes off in my mind. Something isn’t quite adding up about this. Why would he be one of the only staff present? Before I came to speak to him, he looked uncomfortable, like he would rather be anywhere else. “Thenhow come you’re here? Why did you come?” I’m sure my questions are rude, but there is just something odd about this whole situation.

“I received an invite.” He removes a thick piece of cream cardstock from his jacket pocket, extending it for me to see. I can’t read the swirling calligraphy, it’s probably in elvish, but I just nod my head. “I think Elier received one too, although I’ve not seen him,” he tells me, looking around hopefully to try and spot his fellow guard.

Elier had been the young guard who I rode back to Galandell with when we were first discovered in the cave by the kelpies’ lake. Vaeril had been poisoned during our escape from Arhaven and had almost died. I’d been so busy focusing on him and trying to keep him with me that I didn’t realise the elves were sneaking up on us. Thankfully, they didn’t kill me outright and took both of us to the capital for the queen to make her decision. Elier had obviously been uncomfortable having me so close to him, but he had been kind at the end—far kinder than the guards and soldiers at Arhaven ever were.

I still feel uneasy, the queen doesn’t do anything without reason and I’m sure there is something else going on here that I just can’t quite work out, but I shake my head and push those thoughts to the back of my mind. “Whatever the reason, I’m pleased to see you.” My words are honest, and he smiles in agreement, sensing my sincerity.

“And I you.” He shifts uncomfortably again, running a finger around the neckline of his jacket, pulling it away as if it’s strangling him.

“You’ll get used to that. These things are always uncomfortable,” Vaeril offers from behind me, and both myself and Kaelir look at him in shock. I recover first, simply raising a brow at his advice before turning back to the guard. He looks like he’s not quite sure what to do, in fact his expression iscomical, but I work to keep my features neutral. Of course, I fail miserably at it. Kaelir sees and laughs, breaking the silence between us.

“I thought you’d be enjoying the company of the court,” he remarks, gesturing to me and the gorgeous dress I’m wearing. “You look like you were born to be here.”

Flattered, my cheeks blush pink, and I give him a rueful smile. “I feel very out of place here,” I reply honestly. With my round ears and black hair, I think I stand out like a sore thumb, but it’s nice to hear otherwise. I do wonder if he’s heard the whispers about my lineage from his comment. ‘You look like you were born to be here.’ If Jaonos really was my grandfather, then part of me wasborn to be here.

“I’m glad I’m not the only one!” he exclaims with a bit too much enthusiasm thanks to a glare from Vaeril.

We stay with Kaelir for a bit longer, just making small talk, but I can tell Naril and Vaeril’s presence is making him uncomfortable, so we make our excuses and head back over to where Taelir and Saril are still standing. A flash of bronze catches my eye, and I frown as I glance over, trying to work out what I’m seeing. By one of the pillars is an elf I recognise, but it takes me a couple of seconds to place how I know him.

The elf who is related to the queen.

Why is he standing by himself, and mostly obscured by the pillar, almost as if he’s hiding? And why is he staring at me? His expression makes me want to shudder again, and as if he can sense it, his smile grows. Raising a hand, he curls his finger, gesturing for me to follow him as he turns to leave.

“Vaeril—” I start, going to ask who the elf is and if we can trust him, but I’m stopped by a new presence.

“Clarissa?” The voice catches me by surprise, and when I turn, I see Tor wearing his most diplomatic smile as mycompanions switch their attention to him. Instantly, I forget about the mysterious elf.

“Tor!” I exclaim. Vaeril stiffens next to me, but he doesn’t say anything, simply watching the tribesman with narrowed eyes. I can feel the others observing us with interest, but I don’t look away from him in case the queen takes him when I’m not looking.

“Would you dance with me?”

I remember back to when we were both at Arhaven and he asked me the same thing. At the time, he had scared me. He was so different than the humans there that his raw masculinity and roughness made me wary of him, but there was something about him that drew me to him. As I got to know him more, I learned to see past the coarseness and focus on the man underneath. The man who risked his life to help servants and children escape from a kingdom that he owes no allegiance to, who offered to help me escape—a woman he barely knew.

“Of course,” I agree, not needing to think about it as I place my hand in his. We start to move towards the dance floor when I’m stopped by a hand on my arm. I follow that hand back to Vaeril, who’s watching me with a frown and hurt shining in his eyes.

“Alina,” is all he says, begging me with his eyes not to go. Something inside me flinches, but I push it away, needing to see Tor.

“I’m only going to dance, I won’t be far,” I assure him softly, but something tells me this is about more than just going for a dance with the tribesman. My gaze flickers to Naril who’s watching me with narrowed eyes, silently judging my decision.I’ll deal with him later,I think, looking back to Vaeril. We’re attracting a lot of attention now, and as I glance up, I can see the queen staring daggers at me.

All of a sudden, I’m on the other side of the hall, looking at a woman in a pink dress with a group of elves on one side and the mountain tribesman on her other. She’s plain, a half-breed, with Vaeril holding one of her outstretched arms, almost begging her not to go. On the other side, the tribesman holds her hand as if leading her away somewhere.I give him permission to leave my side, and the first thing he does is go to her. What is it about the tramp that has everyone so enamoured? How dare they? They should be fawning over me, and instead, the human trash is all I hear about these days. I need to find a way to get rid of her before she ruins everything. I’ll make her pay.

“Clarissa!” someone calls, and based on their expressions, I get the impression it’s not the first time they’ve said my name. Blinking rapidly to clear my vision, I shake my head, wondering what on Morrowmer just happened. Glancing over at the queen, I see she’s still watching me with narrowed eyes. Was I just in her head? No, that can’t be possible.

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