Page 124 of Blood of Ancients

The woman’s voice was elegant and regal, like she was a noblewoman trapped in a maid’s garb. She was a beauty, like all the Ljosalfar, with high, slanted cheekbones of impervious tone, not a speck or blemish on her. Somehow, Zentha looked more alien than even Corym, who had a few lines of a fighter across his beautiful mug.

I pouted, impressed, and raised a brow at my elven lover. “We get our own handmaiden?”

“I suppose so,” Corym replied, scratching his head. And was that a slight blush I saw staining his cheeks?

Clearly, the Fifth Company-Prince was not used to overdone attention in the capital city of Alokana. Corym struck me as the kind of man who went about his business with razor focus, and didn’t have time for hangers-on or gossip or fawning.

Zentha said, “It is my pleasure,varuses.” To me, she bowed deeper. “Maelen.” I knew those terms as the equivalent of “sir” and “ma’am.” She turned on her heels and glided up the walkway of the ridge, which turned deeper into the mountain where the rest of the city lay.

As we walked, Zentha explained, “Captain Vesryn notified me of your arrival and commanded a retinue of help for our Midgardian guests.”

Magnus said, “But we’ve only just arrived. How—”

“Spirit-tethering, bloodrender,” Corym interjected. “Same way Elayina alerted me and Ravinica, I reckon. It’s a mode of communication Ljosalfar experience through our magic, our spirit. It . . . sounds fancier than it is.”

“Psychic communication?” Grim asked.

“Something like that, bear.”

We continued on in Zentha’s footsteps, walking where she walked. Her stroll was graceful and short in her elegant dress, which I realized showed more skin than I would have expected from a maid—usually having to hide as much as their ankles from being seen in medieval times.

Not here. Zentha’s blue dress, which had looked quaint at first, showed slits on the sides that revealed creamy thighs when she walked. Her tunic looked expensive, a light blue color to match her gown, yet it was completely bare on the back, only caging her breasts in the front.

It was a surprise, to say the least. Especially considering I had just come from a place at the height of winter, with everyone bundled up in their warmest most unflattering clothing.

Hel,everyonehere had more skin on display than I was used to, and it made my face warm looking at the elves wandering the streets. Tunics were open, unbuttoned much of the time. A few traders were even shirtless, showing off wiry muscles and the length of their tapered ears. Women wore headdresses of twirled silk, brightly colored, or had their hair in fashionable cuts—long and velvety, braided, or cut short to the ears.

Everyone moved with an elegance that was lost on me, as if the simple act ofwalkinghad meaning and purpose here.

The one thing everyone shared in common was the brightness of their hair—stark blonde, nearly white, as radiant as the Midgardian sun. The Ljosalfar had hair that was, by contrast, brighter than theirownsun, with its greenish-orange tint. Not a single elf we passed had mismatched hair like Dagny or flair or anything that would take away from the sheer majesty of their station and importance in life.

Within a few minutes of walking down a cobbled road, I got the sense these people wereveryperceptive about said station and importance. There was an air of superiority on the faces of every Ljosalfar we passed, who frowned and narrowed their yellow eyes at us as we passed with Zentha leading us along like dogs on a leash.

“I feel like we belong in a kennel around these people,” I muttered out the corner of my mouth.

Arne said, “Speak for yourself. I feel like I fit right in.”

Sven said, “You would, dandy. Maybe we should start callingyoua half-elf instead of Ravinica.”

Grim chuckled.

A smile grew on my face. My mates were at ease. Those were the first words Arne had spoken directly to us since Frida’sdeath.Maybe he’s going to be okay after all. Or he’s still in shock, doing anything in his power to keep his mind occupied.

At least he was trying—not allowing himself to wallow, when he knew what a monumental, surreal moment this was for our kind. To behumanssmack dab in the middle of an elven kingdom!

I couldn’t believe it. There was a dreamlike quality in Alokana, despite the buildings and people being very real and lavish.

Most of the buildings were built with white stone, sheer and bright. Their tops were set with emerald roofing, gables the same, with signs hanging down to denote what they were in the Elvish script.

It was a medieval village like I’d see in a storybook, yet with flesh-and-blood, long-eared elves doing the moseying, and the entire cityscape lifted high above the valley floor.

Corym said, “This is only one level of Alokana, as I’m sure you noticed. Here, the workers and traders mingle.”

I blinked, shocked. “These beautiful people are theworkers?”

He smirked. “You should see the nobility, love.”

Cringing, I shook my head. “I’m not sure I want to. I’ve got enough royalty surrounding me right now,Prince.”

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