Bow Before the Elf Queen

The two maids, Reina and Pearl, stood before Layala, arms crossed. “You must wear a dress for breakfast with the High King,” Pearl said, pushing a strand of loose orange hair out of her face.

Tif hung out of view on the vines draping from the ceiling and shrugged at her. Layala pulled the robe tighter around herself. She argued with these two for the last five minutes. They came up with every reason she needed her hair in a certain style, fancy braids and updos and pins everywhere. She preferred hers free flowing unless she was training, in which case, she wore a single braid down her back or a tight bun. They said she needed her lips stained with more color, blushed cheeks, and some sort of contraption that was supposed to make her waist look smaller and breasts larger. The many ties and loops in the back were intimidating enough. They called it a corset, but the one she wore wasn’t tight. It was mainly for looks and worn on the outside of her top. “My clothes are almost dry. I’ll wear them.”

Reina shook her head. “Traveling attire is not proper. Don’t you wish to impress your betrothed? Your mate? His mother and sister will also be present. They’ll expect a certain fashion.”

Not only did she have to endure breakfast with Thane but his family, too? “I don’t wish to impress anyone.”

Both looked like they’d been slapped. Even Pearl’s mouth hung slightly ajar. “My lady, please. You will make us look inept if we don’t dress you properly.”

She’d hate for them to lose their employment here because of her. Combing her fingers through her hair, she sighed. “Fine. The simple blue one will do.”

They both beamed and started tugging at her robe. “Excuse me, but I can undress myself.”

“Oh, you don’t need our assistance?” Reina asked.

“No, I don’t. I’m not incompetent.” Her voice came out sharper than she intended, but these two needed to learn boundaries. She actually liked that they brought her meals. Who wouldn’t want food cooked for them and not to even have to clean up? And the hot bath she soaked in earlier was soothing and much needed, but she didn’t require them to do everything for her.

“We meant no disrespect, Lady; it’s just the royals like the help. It’s part of our duty.”

Tif nodded furiously and mouthed. “It is.”

Pearl stepped back and held the dress over her arm. “And next time we can help you wash your hair.”

They’d brought her water to bathe, but she insisted they leave while she did so. “I don’t need help with that either.” They truly looked devastated at her comment. “Thank you,” she added, hoping they would cheer up a bit. “I’m not trying to be rude. I have lived in a simple cottage, and I’m used to doing things for myself. Normally, I bathe in a river.”

Pearl stifled a giggle and Reina’s eyes grew about as big as saucers. Apparently bathing in the river wasn’t done around there.

Three knocks on the door and Reina’s hand flew to her chest. “Good gracious, you’re not even decent.”

Layala snatched the dress from Pearl and slipped her legs through the neck and pulled it up.

“A moment, please,” Reina hollered.

When her arms were through the sleeves, she nodded to Reina who pulled the door open.

“Oh, Sir Fennan. What brings you here?” Reina asked.

“I’ve come to fetch Lady Layala. The family is tired of waiting and them being hungry doesn’t help the matter.”

“Oh dear.” Pearl held a hand over her mouth. “The queen—you must hurry. Quickly, quickly.” She pushed Layala toward the door. “She’ll not be pleased with us.”

“I don’t have any shoes,” Layala protested. Pearl shoved a pair of silver slippers in her hand. Layala put them on and walked beside her escort. All she had to do was play the part until she could get this bond broken and separate her life from Thane’s.

Fennan was taller than Thane by an inch or two. He must have been at least six feet six inches. “Just for a bit of a warning, the queen and princess are … challenging.”

“I got that impression from the maids, but I can handle my own.” She dealt with hard-to-handle people over the years. Even Aunt Evalyn could be a nasty piece of work when things didn’t go her way. Layala had to earn respect from the men at the training yard, and until she did, they ridiculed her for being different, for being small, for thinking she—a female—could even get in the arena with them. They called her “pointy ears” or simply “pointy” for years if not elee. Of course she was only twelve when she started fighting with them. Fifteen when she could kick all of their behinds. The queen couldn’t be worse than some of the men there.

A line appeared between Fennan’s black brows when he gave her a hard stare. “I heard.”

“Did he tell you?” For some reason she expected Thane to keep her attempt on his life quiet since he hadn’t alerted the guards.

“I’m impressed you made it into his room and even got close enough to put a knife to his throat, but you know he let you, right?”

“Let me?” Layala balked.

“There’s no way he didn’t hear you enter his room. I don’t take kindly to anyone threatening my king, Lady, even if it’s you. Don’t do it again.”

“I don’t plan to, especially since our lives are linked.”

Fennan smirked. “Tricky little bastard, the spell, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” she acknowledged begrudgingly. “I need to know more about our mate bond. Where can I learn about it?” They descended the large staircase with suits of armor set into the wall on either side every five steps or so. The armor was bronze and their swords pointed up. The intricate designs carved into the metal of the chest plate made them the most beautiful pieces she’d ever seen. Poetic even.

“Thane can give you answers.”

That was out of the question. She needed to see something in writing. Something original. “Surely, there is another resource. How would I know he isn’t lying?”

“He’s not.”

“And how do I know you aren’t lying?” she challenged. “You must understand how I feel. Trust is earned, and so far, I don’t have much to go on but what I’ve heard about him.”

“I do see your point of view and how scared you must be. It’s not my place to speak of the details, but Thane means well. He is a dangerous person but not to you. He only wants to keep you safe. And he doesn’t want to turn.”

“He wants to keep me safe because our lives are connected?”

“Partly.” He stopped before two dark oak doors with beautiful whirling tree designs carved into each of them. “Give him a chance. At least speak to him, ask him questions without your preconceived notions. He is not Tenebris.”

Her mind flashed back to his easy smiles at the Smoky Dragon, their flirtations, even the way he disarmed her when she tried to murder him. He didn’t use aggression or malice in retaliation, and his lovely green eyes. Maker, she kissed him… but she found it hard to believe that someone who went with his father to towns and villages, killing along the way, could have a decent bone in his body. And if he was not like Tenebris then why did he follow his father’s orders for so long?

When they stepped inside, the High King, queen, and princess all stood and watched her. With the glare the queen cut, and the just as glacial look her daughter gave, Layala wanted to step back out and eat breakfast alone in her room. Not because she wasn’t up for a pissing contest, she enjoyed little squabbles and light banter, but these two looked like they wanted to set her on fire for arriving late. She couldn’t guess how they’d react when she refused to marry Thane, or had he told them she tried to kill him the night before?

Her gaze locked onto Thane’s. Part of her wanted him to defend her against these vipers, but why would he? He must hate her after what she did. She was out of her element here. In a looming castle, in a populous city full of elves not humans, who expected her to do Maker knows what, and in a room full of royals who would anticipate certain behaviors and mannerisms, both of which she likely didn’t have. Why did what they might think even bother her? After what she was prepared to do last night, she couldn’t let these royals intimidate her. For the first time in her life, Layala felt truly alone. Even among the humans, she at least had Aunt Evalyn and the boys. Now, she dined with the enemy.

Fennan walked by and took a seat; all the while Layala simply stood in the doorway. Where should she sit? Next to the queen? On the other side of the princess?

“Good morning, Layala,” Thane said. His hair had been combed and his clothes of black and forest green pressed and perfect. He was the epitome of a High King from the gold crown on his head to the shiny black boots on his feet. “Please join us.” He placed his hands behind his back. “Mother, will you move down a seat? As my betrothed, Layala should be seated beside me.”

“Oh, I’m to be replaced so easily? And after she made us wait nearly an hour.”

“Never replaced, Mother,” he said, softly.

Some of Layala’s bite faded. She might need them to find a way to break their bond. “Thank you.” Layala took the seat, and Thane helped her scoot in, then he settled in his own chair. Almost immediately, the servants brought in a spread of meats and cheeses, scrambled eggs, fruit, rolls, cubed potatoes; a banquet enough for the entire town of Briar Hollow, it seemed.

Silently, they started eating. The queen and princess openly glared. The blatant disregard for her was a little surprising considering they wanted to use her. One would think they’d be nice, but the room was heavy with tension, and it felt as if it could explode at any moment. As if Layala walked on hot coals on the verge of burning skin.

“So you’ve been in Svenarum with the humans,” the queen started. The glittering blue jeweled crown on her head was wrapped in pieces of her dark hair, somehow braided around the sides of it. The shimmering, pretentious crimson gown she wore seemed a bit much for breakfast. She even had red lips to match.

“Yes,” Layala answered and took her glass of deep purple juice. “In a small town.” She took a long drink savoring the sweetness of the berry liquid. She thought about spilling it on herself so she wouldn’t have to endure this any longer, but she didn’t want to run from this situation anymore. Instead, she admired the painting on the wall. It reminded her of the ocean. She went a handful of times as a girl and the swirling blue-green with white-crested waves held a spot in her memory.

“How quaint,” the queen said and lifted her hazel eyes to the princess.

“Forgive me,” Thane said. “This is my mother Orlandia, and my sister, Talon. And call me Thane.”

Layala wanted to keep addressing him as High King. It was more formal, less intimate. If she called him by his name it made them appear as friends, at least in her mind.

“Well, hopefully Castle Dredwich isn’t too much for a small-town elf to navigate. It’s probably overwhelming for someone like you,” Princess Talon said with a smile. “Do all the females wear their hair like that in Svenarum?”

Without thinking, Layala touched the soft tresses resting against her chest and waist. Her hair curled at the ends but was otherwise straight. “It’s how I prefer it.” She never took the time to learn the complicated hairstyles these two had. There was no need for it before.

“Interesting,” she said and took a bite of her food. Her hair was tightly done up with small braids and loops and all sorts of nonsense.

“Is there something wrong with it?” She didn’t want to think they were belittling her, but they were. What else should she have expected though from the Athayel family?

“No,” Thane said quickly. “Your hair is perfect.”

Layala’s mouth twitched, but she forced back a smile. She didn’t expect him to defend her against his family. He somehow held her gaze with his brilliant green eyes and smiled for her.

“Perfect is a strong word, dear,” Queen Orlandia said. “She’ll need to learn proper fashion.”

“Must we truly get into a conversation about hairstyles?” Thane snapped. “As if it matters at the moment. You’ve just met her.”

“She doesn’t even know which fork to use,” Talon cut in. “And I can see dirt under her nails. You expect me to call her High Queen?”

Thane’s nostrils flared as he glared at his sister. Blushing, Layala looked down at her hands. There was a little dirt she’d missed under her left pinky nail. She tucked her hands under the table and glanced at the door. If she got up and left it would let the enemy win, but could she sit here and take their ridicule? And there were three different forks that all looked very similar. Was there a correct one? Why did it matter?

“How about we discuss the wedding then?” Orlandia said. “It should be soon. And she’ll have to learn our fashion and how to bathe properly if she is going to marry you, Thane. And that is most certainly only the beginning of the training she’ll need. She’ll be High Queen of Palenor for Maker’s sake.”

Why were they talking about her as if she wasn’t in the room? Like she was but a statue… maybe because she was acting like one by taking their ridicule in silence. “If I’m going to marry him?” Layala finally cut in. “As if you gave a choice in the matter when you bound us together as children.”

The queen, sitting directly beside Layala, shot her a scowl. “No, you don’t have a choice, but you should feel privileged. How ungrateful of you. Any other she-elf would be more than happy to be born with magic and have the honor of marrying the High King of Palenor. My son rescued you from squalor, and this is how we are treated by you?”

Layala clenched her teeth. “It’s not a squalor.”

Fennan had a hand over his mouth as if he was hiding a laugh. He thought this was funny? He found humor in Thane’s mother belittling her? Or was he laughing that Layala had the gall to argue back?

Thane rubbed his chin. “Enough, Mother.”

“She needs to be told what she has, apparently, not been taught. That someone of her status should hold her tongue in the presence of the king’s mother.”

“And sister,” Talon added.

“Of my status?” Layala started. “Which is?”

“A low-born orphan elf who got my husband killed searching for her!” A vein throbbed on Orlandia’s temple, and she gripped her napkin so hard her knuckles turned white.

The room was tensely silent. Layala leaned away from Orlandia, who stared at her with white-hot rage. “Need I remind you why I am an orphan? Don’t expect me to feel remorse for your husband.” Layala pushed her chair back and threw her napkin on the table. She wouldn’t sit here with these people any longer.

“They were executed because they couldn’t follow a simple order, you ungrateful little-”

“I said, enough!” Thane boomed and shot up. The chair he’d been sitting in hit the ground with a thud. “How dare you bring up that day.” Thane gently wrapped his hand around Layala’s upper arm. She suddenly regretted that she hadn’t gone into the queen’s room first last night. There was no bond to keep her from murdering that evil wench. Without a fight, she let Thane lead her from the dining hall. When the door slammed behind them and they stood alone, he released her. “I apologize for their behavior. My mother is not always so rude. My father’s passing has been hard on her.”

“You’re truly apologizing after what I tried to do to you last night?” Layala asked, bewildered. His mother was indeed rude, but what Layala had tried to do was much worse, and she hadn’t apologized to him. “Why do you defend me against her?”

“I should think that was obvious.”

“It isn’t to me.”

“Layala, I’ve been defending you for nearly all my life.”