Page 99 of A Vow of Wrath and Ruin

24THARAN

The Great Elven Hallsparkled with the light of a thousand fire sprites dancing around giant crystal chandeliers. Elegant tapestries lined the walls. The smell of roasted meats and wine filled the air. Elves chatted with one another, flinging their heads back with laughter while holding golden chalices. All in attendance wore their finest attire---tailored jackets and low-cut dresses, donning glittering diadems. Tharan’s crown of antlers sparkled in the gilded light. Elves danced and ate as a string band played a cheerful tune.

Arendir, Elowen, and their twenty children were waiting when Tharan arrived. Each wore an intricately designed tailed overcoat embroidered with the seal of the Alder King.

Arendir stood, offering Tharan a seat next to him on the dais.

“Come, my child. Sit next to me. I have prepared a wonderful selection of elven women for you to choose from.”

Tharan swallowed hard but took his seat next to his grandfather, who was preparing a spread of assorted meats and stews on a long oak table.

Sumac and Hopper took their places at the far end of the table next to two of Arendir’s younger children. Their hair was a fiery red and their faces were painted with freckles. They had thesame green eyes as Tharan. He was drowning in a sea of eyes like his, and it made his skin crawl. Were these “wonderful women” going to be related to him somehow? Would he be expected to procreate with his half-sisters or nieces?

His mother put a loving hand over his, and he couldn’t help but grimace. Part of him wondered if it would’ve been better if shehaddied. That way he wouldn’t have to deal with the reality of who she truly was: a woman who reproduced with her own father.

“You look so handsome,” she whispered in his ear. A necklace of black pearls dangled around her neck, leading to a dress of black satin. Her skin glowed with the Elven Breath like a light lit from within. “I have what we need. I will bring it to you tonight.”

“You look beautiful as well,” Tharan said, pouring himself a glass of wine. Shit. Now, he would have to stay in this Trinity-forsaken place another night.

Arendir clapped his long, spindled fingers, and the music promptly stopped.

“Tonight, we celebrate my grandson, Tharan Greenblade, Master of the Wild Courts and king of the Alders.”

The crowd clapped, and Tharan bowed his head in reverence.

Arendir continued, “Now, please make way for the potential brides.”

The crowd parted, and a carpet of red and gold unfurled itself. Six elven women paraded down the aisle. Each wore the same low-cut silver gown adorned with diamonds. Reaching the base of the dais, they kneeled so their bosom was presented to the royals above. A veil of delicate lace obscured their faces and hair. Were they concealed to hide faces like his?

An uneasiness settled over Tharan.

“These are the finest women my kingdom has to offer. Each one from a noble house. Each one a proven producer.”

Tharan’s stomach turned at the word, but he smiled at his grandfather convincingly. He needed to act interested if he wanted to get out of there alive.

“Number one,” his grandfather said.

The woman rose and removed her veil, revealing golden-blonde hair and blue eyes with a button nose—attractive by any measurement. How old were these women? Elves lived for an eternity, but unlike the sylph, their age eventually showed on their skin. This woman did not have a wrinkle to be seen. Was she young, or had they figured out a way to stem the corruption of time?

The woman smiled.

“Vansyra from the Kingdom of Eden. Not far from your realm. She has already given birth to two children and would be honored to grace you with more,” his grandfather said enthusiastically.

Tharan nodded. The woman gave him a hopeful smile and stepped back into line.

“Next,” Arendir called, and the woman beside her stepped forward, pulling her veil as the previous woman had done, revealing dark umber skin and amber eyes with lips so lush any man would be tempted to kiss them. “Marise hails from Eryndor and carries her third child.”

Tharan’s eyes flitted to the woman’s bulging stomach. “Whose children do they bear?” he asked louder than he intended to.

“It does not matter,” Arendir said with a smile. “All that matters is they will be ready to give you a child once the bond is complete.”

Tharan suspected their littleexperimentwas happening in more than just the capitol.

The third woman stepped forward. Hair of copper cascaded over her ample bosom. A single tear snaked its way down her cheek as her verdant eyes met Tharan’s.

“Callini from Occid, who has given us four children already. Quite the match. Her father controls a fierce army.”

Tharan swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth. “But what about their children? Who will care for them?”

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