Page 14 of A Serenade To The Elf Queen
“I’d say it’s idiotic to announce that in front of his niece,” Shade answers, shooting his companion a warning glance.
Thieves. Murderers.
This is who my uncle has brought to Aelfheim to be his personal guards. Shade pulls the gilded door handle for me.
“He’s inside,” he says, utterly detached.
I inhale a deep breath as I enter the room.
Rainer lounges in his armchair by the fireplace. The obsidian mask lies unperturbed by the side table. He never bothered covering his face around me. His head doesn’t turn at my approach. He keeps staring into the flames with that preternatural stillness. The dim lighting throws shadows acrosshis cheekbones, making his features starker. My gaze falls on the crystal glass in his hand, along with the small painting of Aerin.
On days when my frustrations with my uncle mount, I remember we do share one thing in common; our love for my late sister. He made it clear of his preference ages ago and I don’t mind it.
“Why have you summoned me, Uncle?” I settle on the hearth near his armchair.
He blinks, shifting his gaze from the fire to frown at the amber brown ale in his goblet.
“Traditions like the Merafall tend to drive silly fantasies in a young girl’s mind,” he finally says, his deep voice shattering the silence of the room. “Are you still pining over young Haldan or is it your own guard, Aelfric you have your eyes on?”
He still thinks of me as the naïve child he saved and freed sixty years ago.
“I do not hold feelings for Aerin’s betrothed, and Aelfric is my friend.” I sigh softly.
“In any case, I hope you understand that as Queen such choices are not possible for you,” he says, swirling the wine. “Your best chance of keeping the throne is to marry a strong house so you’ll have an ally in court.”
I have always known my marriage will be a political one to maintain the noble Völundr bloodline of House Wiolant. But to hear Rainer say it out loud and hammer the fact into my head…
“I understand, Uncle,” I say, mustering a faint smile. “Perhaps it won’t be so bad. Mother and Father were happy.”
I see the slight change in his expression at my remark.
We lapse into a silence, staring at the crackling flames together. Here we are, the only two surviving Wiolants. I look at the broken shell of a warrior beside me. Aerin’s death has driven him half mad with grief. Rainer is the only family I have left.
“I’ve arranged an exceptional match for you to ensure the survival of our house,” he finally says, draining the wine.
We might not survive tomorrow noon. Perhaps Rainer hasn’t heard about the Archon yet. But that’s impossible. My uncle has spies everywhere, even if he is banished from court.
“Another year of inaction…” he says, mulling over the council’s decision. “Those fucking bastards. It was them who pushed Aerin to be emissary for the crown.”
The High Elven Council deemed I was too valuable to go on the diplomatic mission to Avalon at the time. I listen to the hidden meaning of Rainer’s words without feeling.
Yes, it should have been me, Uncle…
“Now, they’re acting as if she’s not worthy of avenging!” he snaps, throwing his glass into the flame.
I try to calm him down. “The might of Avalon, Myrkheim and Darvan together is too much—”
The decanter on the side table is the next to find its new home in the fireplace. I cover my face from the flying shards in the air. There’s no reasoning with him when he’s like this.
“Have you forgotten what they did to her?” he seethes.
I feel a knot in my gut as the memories resurface. Of course, I want to avenge Aerin.
The thought of the horrors she experienced prior to her death keeps me up every night and haunts me in my sleep. But I can’t be that selfish and ask my people to fight for my cause.
Rainer stares down at me. Some semblance of sanity returns into those cobalt grey eyes. “Forgive me. I’ve scared you.”
He kneels beside me and starts picking glass pieces from my hair. The movement is mechanical like a wound-up toy. His loss of temper doesn’t bother me as it used to. There’s a bigger turmoil in my heart right now.
