Page 61 of The Rowan's Stone
Slapping him on the back, I laugh. “I was doing pretty well until I heard her moan,” I remark. We linger in the kitchen for a few more minutes until I finish my coffee. “Ready?”
Instead of answering, he stalks toward the lobby, and I follow. “I’d like to go to the village first. Then, if your father isn’t in a good mood, we can leave directly from the palace and come home.”
It’s a good plan. “I agree.”
When we walk up to Arden and Valerian, she’s leaning into him, listening to a story about Glynnis. “As a councilwoman, she’s giving those men hell,” Valerian says, laughing. “She’s a great addition.”
Arden’s eyes widen when she takes in my uniform, and she twirls her finger, demanding I show her the whole thing. I turn in a tight circle, showing her the lightweight green wool trousers and jacket. It has a few medals and jewels on it, but not much.
I roll my eyes. “It’s a uniform, and it’s the least formal one I own,” I remark self-consciously. “Why the surprise? I’m sure you’ve seen them when you’ve visited the light Fae queen with Solandis, and theirs are extremely ostentatious.”
She lifts a shoulder. “They weren’t you, but you’re right—the Fae live for formality and ostentatious displays.” She tosses a wink at Theron, then gestures to her own clothing. “Will this be okay to meet your father?”
She’s wearing black slacks, a green silk blouse, and silver heels. “Since we’re meeting him during the day, it will be fine,” I tell her. “You look stunning.”
“This reminds me of the first time we met,” Theron murmurs, gesturing to her clothes. “We’re going to the village first, then the castle.”
When we step into the village a minute later, we find it teeming with life. It’s market day, so everyone is out visiting with each other and shopping, while kids run around and play. I smile.
When the crowd sees me, everything stops. The village elder walks over to me and bows. “Prince Fallon, it’s so good of you to visit us. I’m Elder Lo. Is there something I can do for you?”
“Hello, Elder Lo. Pardon our intrusion, but we’re looking for information,” I reply, motioning to Theron to step forward and explain.
“We’re searching for a witch who might have lived here a little over twelve hundred years ago. Her name might have been Fiona,” Theron tells him.
He studies Theron for a second before his eyes move to Arden. “She was here for about five years and a very sad young woman when she came to us. It took me a long time to get her to open up. She explained her family had been massacred and she was in hiding. She became my friend, so I helped her stay hidden. Whenever someone asked about her, I lied and told them no witches were living in our village.” His eyes are filled with sadness as he recounts her story. “Unfortunately, when I was away visiting my family in a nearby village, they came again, and someone told them where to find her. I came back to find her dead.”
My heart stutters. If she died, it means Arden is dark Elven. My head swirls, and my heart thumps hard in my chest. Wanting to roar in denial, I clench my fists to maintain my control. Theron gives me a sharp glance. He knows what this means too.
Arden steps forward and takes his hand into hers. “Thank you for helping her. I’m sure it meant the world to have you as a friend. Can you tell us anything about the ones who came looking for her?”
“They were from different races. Witches mostly, but other supernaturals too. Dark Fae, light elves, and dark elves, if I recall correctly. I wasn’t here for the last inquiry, though,” he informs us.
“Do you mind if I ask where she’s buried?” Arden questions softly.
“Not at all,” he replies, motioning for Arden to follow him. “She said someone would come searching for her one day, but the years went by and nobody came. I didn’t realize it would be so long.” He pulls out a medallion from his shirt and shows it to Arden.
When we stop in front of a house, I raise my eyebrows in surprise, but when he takes us through to the back garden, I realize it’s his house. There, in the corner of his garden under a willow tree, lies a simple gravestone. “Fiona, Friend and Proud MacAllister Witch” is engraved on her tombstone, along with the date of her death.
Arden smiles at the elder. “I’m so glad she found you,” she murmurs. “And I thank you for honoring her and keeping her secret.”
“She said you would tell their story,” he replies. “I hope you tell it well.”
“I will,” she promises him.
After thanking him for his time, we walk back to the market. Arden is biting her lip and giving me worried glances, but I can’t assure her everything’s going to be fine. My hatred for the dark elves is deep, cultivated by my father and fed frequently by us both for years. Raising my hand, I massage my temples. My head pounds with the knowledge of her heritage. They killed my mother, and I’m not sure forgiveness is in me, but my heart argues Arden’s case, reminding me what she means to me. Taking a few deep breaths, I turn to her when we get to the portal.
“We can talk later, but we need to meet my father right now,” I state softly, avoiding her gaze.
Theron and Valerian are torn between wanting to be there for me and protecting Arden, but I ignore them and lead us all directly to the castle.
My father is waiting for us in the throne room when we arrive. “Father,” I say, greeting him with a bow. “You know King Valerian and Lord Theron.” My eyes dart to the sides of the room, and I realize it’s empty of everyone but us. Thankful for this small mercy, I steel myself to introduce Arden to him.
My father inclines his head to them, then peers past me to Arden. Narrowing his eyes, he looks at me with incredulity. “You dare to bring dark Elven to my home?” His voice is whisper quiet as he stares at her, and I can see his anger building with every second that ticks by on the clock. He probably hasn’t even been this close to his enemy in over a thousand years. His lip curls as he tilts his head to study her like she’s a bug under his boot.
Standing, he walks closer to Arden and reaches for her shoulder. “Maybe we can use this to our advantage. Let me see your mark. I want to know if you’re worth ransoming or if I should kill you immediately.” His voice is clear and reasonable, as if he’s discussing the weather instead of her death.
Arden tenses and steps back, shifting into her battle stance, while Valerian moves in front of her and Theron slides closer to her back.
