Page 48 of The Ivory King

“It has been some time since I have seen you with your hair down and velveteen on your body,” he commented as his gaze roamed my face. “It suits you, my lord.”

I wanted to say something tawdry but another guard joined us, Fylson, in full copper regalia borrowed from Pasil. He nodded silently at me. We moved down the corridor, passing other nobles who, like us, were slowly filing out of their rooms to attend prayers and the walk of flowers. I paused at Fylson’s door, knocked politely, and waited in the hall for Raewyn to appear. A small gaggle of young women in fine clothes skirted us, whispering and bowing as they did until Raewyn opened her door with a smile. She was dressed in a lovely gown of muted mustard yellow that made her dark hair glow. The young women gasped before darting off. I caught the flash of pain on her scarred face.

“Pay them no mind,” I said as I offered the lady my arm. Merrilyn appeared behind Raewyn in a demure, soft, doe brown gown, her hair pulled up into a serviceable bun at the back of her head. “You rival the sun for warmth.”

She placed her dainty hand on my arm. “You’re a kind man, Aelir. For years I wished for other young women to spend time with, but now I am not so sure I wish to spend time with them if they are so cruel.”

“Not all are so petty. Give them no further thought.” I patted her hand and led her through the castle, our heads high, our smiles bright as the new sun. Our silken slippers had barely touched the floor of the grand entranceway, the ebony bunting of mourning being hastily removed by scurrying staff, when we ran into the Dewfalls and Mossbells waiting for us outside theviewing chamber. I drew in a breath. Now the drama began. I should have been given acting lessons as a child instead of dance instruction. “Ah, there they are!” I called out as we neared the small gathering of titled elves in soft mourning colors, black bands on their arms as was dictated while the king lay in state.

I grinned even wider at the twins as they rushed to us. “Aelir! The rumors of your return arrived with our morning tea. And this vision must be Lady Raewyn. Your beauty is blinding,” the two said in unison, both vying to grab Raewyn’s free hand to drop a kiss on her knuckles. My sight touched on Bonnalure in her wheelchair, her deformed legs covered with a thick covering of dark blue that matched her gown. Behind her, his hand on her slim shoulder, stood her fiancé Ja’nor Dewfall, and to his right, his future mother-in-law, Lady Si’ofra, wearing a gray gown with a circlet of gold atop her head. I bowed politely as Luchas and Larium drooled over Raewyn. After a plaintive look from Raewyn, I nudged the dolts aside, getting a raised scarred brow from Larium. The affront melted away like snow on a spring day quickly as he looped an arm around my shoulders.

“Come now, Aelir, no need to be so physical. We’d not dream of stealing her away from you,” Larium cajoled as they led us into the stateroom. The coffin containing the king lay closed, his likeness carved into the stone coffin lid draped with flowing bouquets that would be the base of a million flowers tossed onto the rolling casket.

The nobility chatted amongst themselves as if they had not a care in the world. The king lay dead among us, his body now cold and starting to rot, and this band of chittering sandterns discussed the latest shoe fashions. Truly, I disliked the court more and more. The vapidity was appalling as was the sycophantical swamp mash flowing from the mouths of two men I once considered my closest friends. The twins jabbered on about hunting trips that we could take and sailing adventureswe could participate in now that a Frostleaf was returned to us. They whispered to me about women and men in court who were eyeing them and me, and if I would wish to join them after the old man was in his crypt.

I shied away from all of their invitations, citing my need to stay close to Raewyn as we had plans to make for our wedding. That brought on more chatter from Larium and Luchas as the bells tolled six and the coffin was lifted by a dozen kings’ guards. Out into the early morning sun we went, following our dead leader, as the coffin was placed onto a cart of gold and white ivory. Six massive white horses, wearing white and gold finery across their muzzles, backs, and over their fetlocks.

“Once the plans are in place, Aelir, we will find you a brothel fitting of your nobility where you may set up a concubine,” Luchas whispered to me as we all began the walk down from Avolire to the shrine upon the sea. Guards rode along the procession on both sides, keeping the growing crowds of common elves from the nobility. The poor threw wildflowers on the king’s coffin. I glanced back at my guard. Fylson marched along in time, but his eyes were damp. My gut lurched at the tears. Not that they were out of sorts for many people were weeping openly, but because his grief was still so raw. Yet here he marched in hot armor, being jostled by crowds, to ensure his vision was on the Mossbell twins. I doubted any of them would try to end me here on a city street. To be honest, I felt little danger from them, for the nobles did not dirty their hands with such things.

“I have no need for a concubine,” I replied tartly. My betrothed walked at my side. What kind of pig would say such things in front of a fine lady such as Raewyn?

“Oh ho, that is right! You have not only a furry muff to sink into but an iron staff to ride upon at your beck and call!” Luchashowled as we turned a sharp corner to face the towering edifice of the shrine of Ihdos that sat along the rocky shores.

I spun to face Luchas, my hand fisted at my side. “You are a braying ass of a man to speak so in front of those that I hold dear. If not for the fact that this is a funeral for a great man, I would beat you to a pulp for your disrespect!”

“We need to move along, my lord,” Fylson said, taking the lead to move me into the shrine. Larium and Luchas stood stunned, and their gazes narrowed as my guards nudged me inside amid a cascade of blooms falling from the wet walls of the citadel. “Do not seek to engage them now,” Fylson spat as V’alor came up on my other side.

“I cannot abide their crude speech in front of Lady Frostleaf,” I snarled before leading Raewyn into the holiest of places in Melowynn to say our goodbyes and pray to Ihdos.

Most would be asking for insight, intelligence, and wealth. I would be requesting patience and his watchful eye over those that I cared for. Once Raloven was in his tomb, the elder council would reconvene to decide who would wear the crown while I was meeting with the exalted cloisterer in an attempt to have him wed me to three other people. That was, of course, unless I was dropped like a skink sunning on a warm tree by the family now glowering at me from afar before a discussion with the exalted one could even take place…

Morning prayers dragged on and on. The exalted cloisterer, an elf even older than Umeris, delivered a scathing sermon on the duty of all elven kind to follow the dictates and rules set forth by Ihdos. Ya’mar Duskmoon, the highest ranking cloisterer and voice of Ihdos, spoke loudly despite his age, his rheumy eyes locked on me for much of his discourse. Surely hislengthy devotional had been written for my ears. Either that or he could hear the rumbling of Raewyn’s stomach throughout the long session.

“I hope we are dismissed soon, for my stomach is feasting on my gall,” she whispered when Ya’mar finally returned to prayers for our dead king. Another hour of appeals to Ihdos. “Do you think he hears it?” She rubbed her flat stomach.

I leaned to the left. “I doubt he hears much of anything to be honest.”

Merrilyn snorted softly. She was quiet, yes, but she was diligently devoted to my oldest friend. The woman was growing on me. The fact that she was seated with Raewyn amongst high-ranking elves did not go unnoticed by my fellow nobles. Raewyn had insisted and so, in her kind but firm way, her human handmaid sat with the Stillcloud family. V’alor, Fylson, and Tezen were all in the back of the shrine, the cool sea air washing over them but not making it to the front benches where the elite sat. As sweat trickled down the crack of my ass, I would have gladly given up my bench to sit with the armed guards of each family.

When the prayers ended, we rose and fell into a neat line to walk past the king’s casket one final time. Each of us bowed one last time and then moved on to the back of the shrine.

“I thought he would never shut up,” Luchas said when we had moved into the sun and moist salt air. My guards appeared as if by magic, each hidden well in their helms, although all in attendance knew Tezen. She was the only pixie in the guard regiment.

“His words offered great comfort and guidance,” Bonnalure said as her future husband wheeled her out into the courtyard. Hundreds of elves waited behind tall, locked golden gates to enter the shrine later for a blessing from under-clerics. “You both would do well to listen to the exalted cloisterer instead offlipping your chins at every young man and woman you find attractive.”

Lady Mossbell was speaking to a group of other matrons, her sight touching on us momentarily, before returning to her discussion. The twins rolled their eyes. “Lady Raewyn, I am having a small affair with tea and baked treats when the sun is at its apex, a light repast with several of the higher-ranking women of our circle. It will be a lovely afternoon in the western garden. Please say you’ll join us. I know you long to spend time with your affianced, but surely we can pry you away from Lord Aelir for a few hours?”

Raewyn looked at me and back down at Bonnalure. “I’d be delighted to attend. It will be wonderful to meet those of my station.”

Bonnalure smiled sweetly. “How grand! I’ll let the kitchen know to add food and drink for one more.”

“You’re very gracious,” I said, bowing slightly, to Bonnalure. A robed cleric appeared at my side, whispering to me that the exalted one had summoned us to his chamber. “We must go. We have matters to discuss with the exalted cloisterer.”

“Ihdos bless you, my friend, for if I had to listen to him any longer I’d expire,” Larium joked, delivering a sound slap to my shoulder as he laughed at his own pun. “While the ladies are sipping tea, why don’t you join us for a ride? The coast offers many beautiful sights as well as taverns where we can wet our whistles and maybe play some cards?”

That was the last thing I wished to do. “I’m sure a fast ride and a cold ale will sit well after a meeting with stuffy old Duskmoon.”

The twins hooted with glee. We left then, following the under-cleric back into the shrine. Our footfalls echoed loudly as we made our way to the back of the shrine to a doorway that led to a vast library. Walls filled with scrolls and tomes andflickering torches set into the white stone walls cast dancing light on the old wooden shelves.

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