Page 130 of A Serenade To The Elf Queen
Silence falls momentarily, nothing but the cantering of the Noctrals on the trail.
“Is that all?” he asks, surprise filling his features.
“Yes.”
Another long silence falls.
“You get two wishes,” he says.
“Three wishes,” I try a little greedily.
“Two. They expire at midnight.”
I shouldn’t have tried to bargain. I’m no fae.
I dare another look at him only to find him with a smile on his face. It’s the kind that makes your cheeks hurt and is completely beautiful.
“You weird, weird girl,” he says, pressing a soft kiss on my hair. I like this fluttery feeling in my chest. I don’t care if it’s the stupid Arawynn bond making me feel this way.
Svenn was imprisoned around the time the Nightwalker Empire fell long after he escaped Lilith’s torture. Who locked him in that dungeon? The question is at the tip of my tongue. But he will tell me when he is ready.
I lean against his chest, letting the warmth of his body soak into mine as my eyes grow heavy. The steady beat of his heart is comforting, if not a little strange. I can listen to the beautiful rhythm forever and never get bored.
“I need to tell you something important,” he whispers, his warm breath ghosting over my skin.
I merely nod to his soothing voice. But sleep soon claims me and I fade into a dreamless slumber.
I am stillgroggy by the time we arrived at Lord Wesley’s keep.
Svenn assists me in dismounting the Noctral easily. He places a hand on the small of my back as we walk to the courtyard. The tenderness crushes my heart a little because despite every kindness he has shown me today, I know deep down he loathes me for being the curse’s vessel.
Dozens of armed guards march towards us together with the lord of the castle. More are stationed on top of the watchtower with their arrows pointed towards our entourage, most are aiming straight towards Svenn. Despite their brazen threat, it is not our lives that I fear.
It’s theirs.
I leave Svenn to join Rainer and the Aldarelfs. My uncle will know how to handle the diplomatic part of this.
“Your Highness. It is our pleasure to host and welcome you at Windhaven,” Wesley says in greeting, bowing with respect. The lord is blandly handsome with neatly trimmed auburn hair that seems to dance in the firelight. His clothing is as fine as any of the Aldarelfs in the capital. It’s easy to tell from the broad shoulders and arms that a warrior’s body lies beneath the immaculate suit.
A nod is the warmest thing Rainer can offer to the male who once served under his battalion in battle. But his aloofness doesn’t seem to bother our host.
“We’ve received news of your unusual circumstances prior to your arrival,” the lord says, one hand on the hilt of his great sword. He pauses for a moment, his striking copper eyes taking in Svenn.
“The vampire belongs to House Wiolant. The High Council agreed to this,” Rainer says simply, his lips pressing into a thin line.
“That may be true,” Lord Wesley says in his rich deep, voice. “But the Aeonians have advised us to take precautions. We’ll escort the monster to his cell underground.”
Underground? My heart squeezes at that word. Svenn has been imprisoned in a dark place for a long enough.
“He’s my consort. If the dungeon is all you can spare, that’s where I’ll go with him,” I say quietly. I understand their fear but I’m not going to leave Svenn all alone again.
Everyone is staring at me with the same look of confusion and bewilderment. I don’t have the guts to look at Rainer’s face, so I focus on the lord in front of me. He holds my gaze without blinking.
The hardened look on Lord Wesley’s face slowly softens. “Then we’ll have to find somewhere more appropriate to lock your prisoner.”
Prisoner.
The word pierces straight to my heart, replaying in an echo over my ears. Garrett was right. This is no fairytale.
