Page 181 of A Queen's Game
“You smell it, don’t you?”
“Your cologne? Yes, I do.”
“No, Elyse,” Brynden said, stepping back with a sad smile. “Some elves have unique traits passed down from their families, ones that only similar types of elven can detect. You are the same as me.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked, furrowing her brows. Was he always that crazy, but she never saw it?
“You detected my scent, as I did yours. I’ve confirmed with your father. Like me, you are not just elven, not by traditional standards at least.”
So her father was aware he was different, that Brynden was hiding something—that she was allegedly different, too. “And Sylas?”
“He’s the same as us, as are Oryck and Daryn, hence the smelling disturbance at the townhouse. They couldn’t believe you were one of us.”
Elyse’s head spun, remembering the incident and smelling pine and amber on Sylas. “I don’t believe you. How are we different? Is it just the scent?”
“It’s very real, my goddess,” he said with a sad smile. “Range of life is a difference, as is the ability to wield aithyr; it comes more naturally to our kind. Think of us as some higher decree of elven.”
“I’ve never heard of such an elf. This is just another lie,” Elyse said, stepping out of his arms. Gods, she should have gone back with Keyain and Marietta. Alone with Brynden seemed like a good idea at first, but that changed. How did she not realize that he was crazy? Keyain was right—Brynden was unhinged.
“How would the world react to such an elf?” Brynden said with a crooked smile. “Our bloodlines are already small. There are fewer families of our kind left, and breeding with normal elves dilutes the traits.”
Elyse scoffed—breeding? “So that’s why you’re so obsessed with marrying me,” she said. “I’m useful for your bloodline, just to breed.” Her breathing grew heavy, anger darkening the edges of her vision.
“Elyse, no,” Brynden said, pleading. “I’m obsessed with marrying you because I could love you if given the time.”
She thought back to Sylas’ words from under the willow. “Obsession isn’t love.”
“Someone once told me that love could make even the smartest a fool,” he said desperately, grasping her hand. “Perhaps it’s less an obsession and more brazen foolishness because I am falling in love with you, Elyse.”
The words hung between them, Brynden’s eyes wide as his gaze roamed her face for a sign, one she didn’t give. He shook his head, dropping to one knee, and pulled her hand to cup his cheek. She gave an anxious glance to a passerby, hating the display they put on.
“Elyse, I promise to tell you everything, to explain every detail to you, if you come to Chorys Dasi.” Brynden turned his head into her hand. His lips were soft against her palm, cradling her hand as if he cherished it—as if he cherished her. Elyse’s breath hitched as he continued. “I promise to do everything within my power to marry you and to love you with my whole being.” He kissed her palm again. “I promise to bring down the world around us if it means spending an eternity with you by my side, living and loving freely.”
Tears formed in Elyse’s eyes at his words, at the desperate look on his face. Brynden was ostentatious and brash; he would grow bored with her. Yet down on one knee in his desperation, Elyse could see their future again, one where she sat next to him while they laughed with friends, an easy life she had never known. She saw happiness with him, the warmth that his happiness brought. No, Elyse didn’t love him, but she could see it. How easy it would be to love Brynden.
“Elyse, I promise each day I will fall more in love with you than the last, that I will cherish you more than a goddess, because you are beyond a divine being.” Brynden kissed her palm again. “I promise it will never fade, that I will be yours until my dying breath.” With his last kiss, he lingered in her palm, pressing hard against her skin. A tingling sensation radiated from her palm to up her arm.
The lump in her throat wouldn’t allow her to speak. Elyse wanted it—wanted to move to Chorys Dasi, to do magic in a city-state that allowed it, and to fall in love like her books. Sure, she was young, but would a chance at love happen again? Under the orders of King Wyltam, would she ever be allowed to love, or choose who to marry?
Her life goal wasn’t to wed some high-ranking male; it was always to be free. However, the chance of loving, of having someone hold her heart, and of having her freedom, was a dream. Brynden was that dream. And it scared Elyse that one day she would wake up, realizing none of it was true. That Brynden was a facade on display, that what he felt was only his obsession.
But what scared her more was that she might never dream again. “Okay,” she whispered, wiping away the tears that escaped her eyes.
Brynden’s head jerked up. “Yes? You say yes?”
“Yes, I’ll go to Chorys Dasi,” she whispered. “I’ll marry you, but I don’t know if the King will release me.”
Brynden jumped to his feet, pulling Elyse into a tight hug and kissing her deeply. The heat in her stomach curled with his passion, savoring the feel of his kiss. He pulled back with a wide smile. “As soon as we’re on Chorys Dasian soil, I’m marrying you, Elyse. I will be your husband, and you will be my wife, regardless of blessings.” His kisses were as fervent as his words, pulling her in tight, not letting go.
Married. To him.
The girl she was at the ball would never believe that such a male would chase her down, praise her, fight for her hand; yet Brynden did. Despite all her shortcomings, he wanted Elyse for his wife. The thought was scary, to step away from Wyltam after he’d been so generous. But was it generous? Or was it an obligation he felt to her mother? Elyse saw within herself themagical potential she had—she could become an accomplished mage. Wyltam had seen that, believed that because he worked with her mother; but remaining in Satiros would mean freedom at the length of a leash.
With Brynden’s promises and Sylas to teach her magic, going to Chorys Dasi was almost too ideal. It scared her that leaving him tonight would somehow change that future, and she understood she didn’t want to leave him, not yet. Elyse wanted Brynden—wanted to enjoy that moment where they decided to be with one another. She wanted to experience life with him, everything life offered.
“I don’t want to go back to the palace,” she whispered.
“What would you like to do then, my goddess?” Brynden said, cupping her face.
