“Oh. Okay.” My tone is more solemn than I hoped, my shoulders drooping slightly.
“I’m sorry.”
I don’t think I’ve ever heard Vaeril apologise to me before. Sure, he’s apologised in a roundabout way, which I’m learning all elves do, but never a direct apology. That’s enough in itself to make me pull my act together. Taking a deep breath, I sit up straight and give him a slight smile.
“It’s fine. When do you think we can visit the wood elves?” Changing the subject, I glance between the two elves.
“I’ll put in a request today with the queen. I’m hoping tomorrow,” Vaeril replies with a shrug, sipping his coffee.
His comment makes me raise an eyebrow. “A request?”
“It turns out that a lot changes in a century. There’s a lot I have to catch up on, and the queen is eager for me get started straightaway,” he answers with a half-smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
I’m sure she is, I think bitterly. The queen hates me, that much is for certain. I wonder if it would change her mind if she knew I was part elf? Probably not, she would probably just hate you more.
“Are you ready?” he asks, pushing away from the table and walking to my side, offering me a hand.
Nodding, I take his hand and stand, but something stops me from answering immediately. Something has been bothering me since we arrived here, and I know I need to start learning to stand up for myself, so I’ll begin with him. At least, that’s the plan.
“Yes, but I have something I need to say before we go,” I blurt, the words blurring into one as I rush to speak, worried that if I don’t say something now that I won’t have the guts to again.
I feel Naril’s attention land on me, and as both elves look at me, I feel my face flush red, their amusement rolling over me.
“Oh?” Vaeril prompts, his lips quirked up into his half-smile, but it only looks condescending, as if the idea of me having questions is amusing. His reaction stokes my anger and confirms my need to have this conversation with him.
“You have to stop telling everyone about my past.” As soon as I say the words, his smile drops and his eyes narrow on me. He’s not used to being told what to do.
“Okay, I’m out,” Naril declares abruptly, walking quickly towards the door. “I’ll see you at lunch.” We ignore him as he hurries away, and if I wasn’t a mess of anxiety and frustration, then I’d probably find his hasty exit amusing.
“It is my business, therefore it is my decision whom I tell. Everyone seems to know! When we came here, I hoped I could start over. Instead, everyone knows me as the human who used to be a slave.” My voice breaks, and I don’t miss his wince as I speak. Closing the gap between us, he reaches towards me, his movements slow so I can see what he’s doing as he cups my cheeks, his eyes locking onto mine. I’m so confused about him and his feelings for me. Is he just comforting me because the bond is pulling him towards me and the need to mend things between us is driving him? Or because he actually wants to? I freeze, not wanting to move in case he takes his hands away. I’m enjoying the feeling far more than I should.
“You are so much more than that.” His voice is earnest, and I want to believe him, but he needs to understand that what he’s doing hurts me. It takes a lot for me to trust, and I so desperately want to just fall into the sentiments the bond is telling me I feel, but I can’t do that. Not yet. I do trust him, we saved each other when we escaped, but it’s a fragile thing, and now that we’re here in his home and he’s surrounded by his people, everything has changed.
“They don’t know that,” I point out, shaking my head. I need him to understand, to see how he’s only adding to their preconceptions of me. “All they see are the things that make me different.”
He looks puzzled, his brows pulling down into a frown as he tilts his head. “That’s a bad thing?”
“Of course!” I exclaim, not understanding why he doesn’t see this as an invasion of my privacy. As a slave, privacy was not something I was granted, but now I’m free and I want to change that. This is somewhere I could start anew, but he’s taking that away from me by constantly reminding me of who I am, who I was. “Please, Vaeril.”
Pausing, he seems to weigh what I’ve said, and I can feel the slight pull on the bond. “Okay, I won’t say anything else,” he promises, and relief courses through me. “However, if the queen asks me anything, I have to tell her what I know. I can’t deny her.”
Although I don’t like it, I nod my head. That is an acceptable request. I don’t want him to get into trouble with the queen over me, especially when he’s the only thing keeping me alive here.
“Better?” he queries, that half-smile back in place as he steps back. Seeing my reluctant nod, he gestures for me to follow him as he walks over to the door. “Let me show you around.”
The palace truly is beautiful. Everything is bright, and there’s a peaceful, light atmosphere that seems to follow us around. The air at the castle back in Arhaven was always heavy, knowing that a misstep could mean the loss of your life.
As we explore the palace, I start to see influences of the different types of elf. The pristine, intricate, white stone structure is all high elf by design, but the entire back half of the palace is carved into the rocks, which was created by the sea elves who live here and dwell in these cavern-like rooms. I wanted to explore more, to meet some of these sea elves, but we only looked from afar. Vaeril promised he would take me to meet them soon. As we walk around, we see a couple of high elves who dip their heads in greeting to Vaeril, but their eyes widen when they notice my round ears sticking through my hair.
My favourite part of the tour is when we leave the main part of the palace and the wood elves’ influence becomes more pronounced. Plants grow through the windows, and as I step into a large wooden room, I realise the entire back wall is made up of huge tree trunks. A sticky, tingling magic drapes over me, and I rub at my skin as we walk through whatever barrier was in place there.
Glancing up, I see the ceiling is actually a thick canopy of leaves. And as I look behind me, I notice the floor changes from polished marble to a light wood.
“We’ve actually left the palace now. This is one of the entrances,” he explains. Frowning, I look at the large opening that leads straight into the palace, thinking that it’s pretty exposed, especially considering the amount of security there was at the main door.
“This seems like an odd entrance to the palace.” I try to keep my voice light and without judgement, but I’m not sure I pull it off.
“Only the wood elves use this entrance,” he replies, gesturing up to the canopy. “It’s not easy to get to. There’s magic on the door, and it’s guarded pretty well.” Following where he points, I see several elves kneeling in the trees with their hands on their weapons, bows in hand as they watch us closely. “If you follow along this path, you’ll see most of the buildings and houses built into the trees.”
“The wood elves’ influence on the palace is much less noticeable than the others,” I point out. The difference is pretty abrupt.