Page 26 of A Serenade To The Elf Queen
The watchful silence persists until Kearne asks, “Is there anyone who wishes to object to this ruling?”
I hold my breath for several seconds longer. But no one from the chamber contests the decision, least of all his father.
“Then this council is concluded,” the seneschal says, his lips curling with a hint of a smile. Most of the High Elves in the room seem relieved with the outcome. I think we all know these ridiculous and brutal traditions of the past must be altered with time. Blood returns to Lord Clayborne’s face as he stares at his son, standing in front of him alive and yawning.
The double iron doors suddenly swing open. Rainer enters the room in his dark emerald blazer accompanied by a young knight. I recognize the lion house crest on his breastplate as someone from the western frontier. A familiar fear clenches my heart at their sudden appearance.
“Does your insolence know no bounds? You have been banished from this court,” a stern voice from the balcony berates his arrival.
Few could get away with talking to Rainer like that. People don’t dare to breathe wrong in my uncle’s presence.
“Remove yourself from this chamber while we still have some semblance of respect for you,” another Elder echoes their disdain.
My uncle slowly raises his head to the veiled curtain. The voices quiet down immediately. Rainer has this way of eviscerating people with his stare. I guess not even the gods are spared.
“You are not welcome here,” Aldarelf Tierra says softly.
“I have good reason to be in this hall,” Rainer says through a tight jaw. “Tell them of your news, boy.”
The dark-haired knight steps forward to the centre of the court. “Your Grace, forgive me for the intrusion. I am Cedwyn Niemroht of the fifty-third infantry. I bring dark tidings from Windhaven regarding the Maiden of Arawynn.”
Blaire.
“We received word days ago that she is returning from Kheirall Balthazar’s castle, but her envoy never arrived on our doorstep,” the messenger informs, his face as grave as the solemn news he carried.
Kheirall Balthazar…
That name has haunted my mind for years. The person Blaire was allotted to is the Demon Lord himself, the one who took away Aerin’s life at Eirik’s behest. I take a deep steadying breath, struggling to keep it together. The murmuring of the council members becomes deafening to my ears.
“Did Balthazar reject our offer?” one of the Aeonians bellows, his harsh voice silencing the others.
Our people are missing and all the Elders care about is their bargain with the demon? My knuckles turn white from gripping the armchair.
“We have no news of that,” Cedwyn answers uncertainly.
“What of the maiden and her entourage? Is there any trace or information of their whereabouts at all?” I ask, my voice almost quivering.
“There is a possibility that the Maiden of Arawynn may have run away,” Commissioner Eamon dismisses before the knight can answer.
Tierra of Elwood raises her fingers to her chin in contemplation. “It would not be the first time.”
Blaire would never abandon her duties. No matter how distasteful or difficult the task was. Something must have happened to her. Nausea barrels up my throat at the thought.
“We must send another maiden for the Demon Lord,” the Aeonian cuts in, dismissing our talk.
A muscle flickers in Lord Clayborne’s jaw. “That ruling is no longer applicable as of yesterday.”
“Rumor has it the new Demon Lord is even more ruthless than his father before him,” Lord Thurston adds. “Perhaps it is a blessing the maiden did not become his bride.”
“This deal must go forth. An alliance with Hel will work in our favor,” the Aeonians demands. The finality in that tone silences all of us.
Sometimes it baffles me why Aelfheim bothers having a queen or a High Elven Council when it is truly the Aeonians who rule from the shadows. They don’t care what happens to Blaire and the others.
“Without power and allies, Aelfheim is doomed,” the Elder uses a different voice this time. More feminine with a lilt. “With the dwarves in the north and the orcs is the west, we stand no chance against the Savage Fae of Avalon. There are talks that Eirik’s witch whore has assembled the Fae King’s beloved mount.”
The hall falls silent at that last word. The beast of legend.
The Nythe.
