Page 142 of A Vow of Wrath and Ruin

“I always thought they used humans for that.”

“Humans are a conduit for magic, but they are not inherently magical. I think all the mixing with the humans bred the Breath out of the elves. And if they are no longer immortal… they are no longer the supreme race of the continent.” Tharan ashed his cigarette and rang for a servant.

“So, this is a way for them to stay in power, even if they damage the gene pool in the making.” Amolie asked.

Tharan cocked his head, looking at the posh library around him.

“Power is a drug no one wants to quit.”

Amolie nodded. “I think that’s why the witches didn’t take a side in the war. I think they thought they were powerful enough to withstand any conflict.”

“Foolish of them,” Tharan replied.

Finneas entered the study again.

“Yes, my Lord?” He bowed low.

“Would you bring us some wine and a bite to eat? Perhaps croissants with cheese?”

“Yes, my Lord.” He backed out of the room.

“You’re going to eat the food and drink the wine when you think someone may have poisoned Baylis?”

Tharan shrugged, repositioning himself in the seat. The fire cast a golden hue on his ethereal features.

“Oh, I’m sure word has spread throughout the house by now that I am suspicious of the staff. No one would dare to poison me now.”

Finneas returned carrying a tray with a hand-blown carafe of wine and an assortment of pastries, which he set on a little table between Tharan and Amolie.

Hopper came stalking into the study, pulling his hood back to reveal his distinguished face. “It is done. Ursula is delivering the letter.”

“Thank you. Did she seem like she knew anything?” Tharan asked, pouring himself a glass of wine.

Hopper shook his head.

“You never can tell with the mer. Slippery folk, even when on dry land.” He helped himself to a pastry topped with melted cheese before taking a seat at the large oak desk in the back of the room.

Tharan thrummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. A mixture of guilt and anger swirled in his mind.

“I shouldn’t have left her. I should have been here. If I were here…”

“Don’t blame yourself. You both had a job to do,” Hopper said.

On the outside, Tharan remained calm and collected as any king should… While on the inside, he was raging against himself. Who elsewasto blame? He should have been here.

“How can I be king if I cannot keep the ones I love safe?” He took a drink of his wine.

“You are a king, not a god.”

Tharan twisted a stray lock of hair around his finger. “Technically…”

Hopper scoffed at his friend, and Tharan rolled his eyes. He needed to focus on the upcoming meeting. It wouldn’t do anyone any good if he was unprepared and unfocused. Reluctantly, he pushed his guilt deep inside himself.

“What should we know about Calliope?”

“Well, she’s incredibly smart and incredibly conniving, vindictive…” Hopper trailed off.

“Oh, so just like every sylph, elf, and human on this continent.”

---