Page 48 of The Shadowbound King

The game continued, with Andrin treating Valina and Yendorn to separate rides. Hand in hand with Finian, I helped the toddler gather flowers and find insects that crawled over the forest floor. When Valina tired of romps through the forest, she joined us, casting me shy smiles as she sat cross-legged at my side and helped me weave a flower crown for Finian.

“We should make one for you too,” she said. “Your hair is such a pretty color. Like the king’s.”

Ignoring the heat that touched my cheeks, I smiled at her. “Only if you’ll wear one with me. Your hair is just as lovely.”

She beamed at me. “I’d love one.”

I fashioned a crown, weaving sweet-smelling blossoms with long strands of grass. When I placed it on her head, she gave my neck an inquisitive look.

“Do you always wear that?”

I touched the collar. “I…” Potential answers whirled through my mind. How could I explain the collar to a child? No matter what I said, it was likely to prompt more questions—maybe ones I couldn’t answer because I didn’t know the answers myself.

Valina tilted her head. “You don’t want to say?”

“It’s not that,” I said. “It’s just something I wear sometimes. To remind me where I come from.”

“Are you from very far away?”

I nodded.

“From where the humans live?”

“Yes.”

She appeared to absorb this. “Do you miss it?”

Abruptly, I realized I hadn’t thought of Purecliff once since arriving at the Embervale. Freedom, yes, but home? No, not once had I longed to return to Eftar.

I straightened Valina’s crown. “I’m glad to have a chance to see the Embervale and meet you.”

She grinned. “Me too.” She went back to braiding grass, and I breathed a sigh of relief that she’d accepted my response.

When Andrin returned with a sleepy Yendorn on his back, twilight had fallen over the forest, and Finian was sound asleep in my lap.

Valina rose and draped a chain of flowers around Andrin’s antlers. He snorted, tossing his head and making pitiful bleating sounds while she giggled. At last, he settled, apparently accepting his fate. When I stood with Finian in my arms, Andrin jerked his flower-adorned head toward the meadow. I helped Yendorn from his back, then shifted Finian to my hip and extended a hand to Valina. She took it, and the children and I followed Andrin from the forest.

Steps later, the arch leading to Embervale’s courtyard loomed ahead. Moonlight splashed over the grass and the stone steps leading to the Embervale. Rapid footsteps rang out, andElodie rushed through the arch with the blond-haired man on her heels. He didn’t carry his staff as he strode to meet us, his robes flaring behind him.

“Children,” he said in a brisk tone. “It’s time to go inside.”

Elodie surged forward and spoke to Valina and Yendorn in a low, urgent voice before pointing them toward the courtyard. Andrin stood stiffly through the exchange, his antlers gleaming in the moonlight. The children chirped polite goodbyes, then headed for the castle.

“Take the little one,” Othor snapped, and Elodie came to me and disentangled Finian from my arms.

Worry and confusion swept me as I surrendered the toddler. The blond elf observed Elodie with an air of impatience, his blue eyes flicking briefly to me.

“Will there be anything else, Lord Othor?” Elodie asked.

I stiffened, but part of me had already known the man’s identity. He’d sat at Andrin’s side during every feast, and he’d eyed me with more than mere curiosity when I followed Rane into the crowded courtyard. Now, his attention made sense. If Othor was Andrin’s relative, then the high priest was my relative—albeit a very distant one—too.

“Not tonight,” Othor said. “But I’d be overjoyed to see better judgment from you in the future.”

Elodie blanched. “Yes, my lord.” Clutching Finian against her, she dipped a curtsy. “Your Majesty,” she whispered, then turned and hurried under the arch.

The second she vanished from sight, Othor went to Andrin. He yanked the flowers from Andrin’s horns, irritation flashing across his features. Then he grasped either side of Andrin’s muzzle and tugged Andrin’s head down until they were eye to eye.

“Let go,” Othor ordered. “Youmustrelease it.”

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