Page 12 of Forged in Cursed Flames (Crown and Crest 2)

Lawrence appears behind Count Flauret. “I’ve just sent a page to inform my father you’re here. He should be on his way shortly.”

The prince’s smile is easy, but his eyes are sharp. Though I have not yet informed the king, Lawrence knows about the elves’ illicit mining in the Dorian Mountains.

Lawrence continues, “Do you wish to come inside, or would you prefer to wait out here?”

“Here is fine.” The lead elf dismounts his horse, but the others stay as they are.

A groom immediately steps forward, silently offering to hold the impatient stallion for the ambassador. The elf assesses the man and then nods for him to take the horse.

The crowd falls quiet as we wait for the king to arrive.

Clover fidgets next to me, clasping and unclasping her hands at her waist. In the anonymity of the growing crowd, I wordlessly reach for her, hoping the contact will soothe her anxiety.

She jumps like a startled cat when I take her hand in mine, and then she turns her head to look at me. We study each other for a long moment before she jerks her hand away and crosses her arms.

I roll my eyes heavenward, but my thoughts are soon distracted by Algernon’s arrival. The people murmur and shift when the king strides through the gatehouse. He’s surrounded by his elite, sealed knights, and I cannot help but wish I were with them.

Covertly, archers take their places on the wall, looking down on the gathering with stony expressions. They do not raise their weapons, but the arrows are nocked in place and ready.

The lead elf looks up, and a wry smile crosses his face when he spots the armed men. His expression makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

“Your Majesty,” the elf says when he looks back down, stepping forward. Though he bows, it feels like a mockery. “I am Darius Vondinnel Trimere. I represent Duke Augmirian, and I extend a token of goodwill to you today.”

Lawrence steps closer to his father’s side, narrowing his eyes.

“To what do we owe the great honor?” King Algernon says dryly.

“My liege is to be married, and he would be greatly honored if you could attend the ceremony.”

The elf steps forward, producing a document from a pocket of his linen cloak.

“Strange timing,” Clover whispers to me. “Do you think it’s a distraction?”

“I don’t know.”

“Surely they heard about Camellia as they traveled,” she says.

But I barely hear Clover. As Algernon reads, his face goes ashen. He clutches the invitation so tightly in his hand, the parchment begins to wrinkle. Without a word, he extends the paper to Lawrence, inviting him to read it as well.

Lawrence scans the document, and then his eyes widen with shock.

“The wedding will take place at dusk on the first day of Sempra,” the elf says. “Your daughter is very much looking forward to seeing you, Your Majesty. I understand she wishes for you to walk her down the aisle—a quaint human tradition, no doubt. It should go without saying, but I would like to assure you, we will treat her like the…treasureshe is.”

He pauses over the word, and the subtlest hint of distaste mars his sharp features.

“Daughter?” Clover asks, grasping hold of my arm.

The king looks to his archers, preparing to give the signal.

The wretched elf’s amusement grows. “For the sake of Princess Camellia’s safety, we ask that you don’t do anything…rash.”

Trembling with fury, King Algernon slowly lowers his hand.

The elf bows his head. “We will bid you good day, Your Majesty. Preparations are already being made for your arrival. We will see you soon.”

Algernon steps forward as the elf reclaims his horse. “If you harm even a hair on—”

“We wouldn’t dream of it. Augmirian is very…” He pauses as he searches for the right word, looking slightly repulsed. “Fondof Camellia. I know that I, for one, am eager to see the dawn of this new era of peace between our people.”

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