A maiden? The world almost tilted under me. I didn’t understand.
Just then, Saphronia sauntered up with two cream-colored dresses. “Yes, understated but refined. Try on this one first.”
I slipped my arm through the embroidered gown and pulled my head through the neck all while hardly taking my eyes off the woman. “But now you are a dressmaker?”
Brooke hung her head, her cheeks blushing more fully. I’d just started interacting with this woman, but I could already tell she was a quiet, timid sort.
Saphronia stepped in with a wave of her hand in a protective manner. “She doesn’t like to talk about those first years, dear. Better to just let her work.”
I had so many more questions for Brooke, but between the gown fitting and tailoring, we exchanged only a few words. Anything I did get from her was information about her hometown, which she still did not take a very keen interest in. Brooke looked as eager to leave as I was to have my questions answered. The whole interaction left me more confused than ever.
But at least I had one mystery solved—what happened to maidens once the king grew tired of them? They were forced to be servants in the king’s household. It was the cruelest conclusion I could come to, which is what made it a perfect answer for the Elf King, or his father who came before him.
And I was being forced to have dinner with him tonight.
That did not mean I had to enjoy it.
Hours later, after lots of primping, fitting, and make up, I stepped into the large dining hall in my shimmering cream gown. It was embroidered with tall antlers wrapped in flowers of pale pink and green. My brown curls were left mostly down, a crown of pink flowers plaited across the top of my head. The apple of my cheeks were painted a lovely pink and Saphronia had lined my eyes with kohl in an understated way.
Tall trees lined the white stone walls of the dining hall. The leaves glowed with the same bursts of red and oranges of autumn as if they grew through the stone floor. Maybe they did.
Birds chirped; mushrooms grew on the moss below. The table itself was an enormous tree that had been sawed in halfand laid in the center of the room. It was polished to a bright shine, its branches trimmed to allow for seats.
The Elf King sat at the head of the table. His bodyguard, the elf with the blonde braids and gilded weapons, stood several paces behind him. Both pairs of eyes turned to me as I approached.
The king stood.
My heart pounded in my chest as I tentatively walked into the room.You were invited. Act like you belong.
I remained standing with my hands firmly in front of me.Don’t twist, don’t squirm. Just smile and be polite, serve the tarts and get out as quickly as possible.They didn’t expect me to actually eat with them, right?
“It seems we have a dinner guest.” The king said through tight teeth, “I was informed mere moments ago.”
“I had little warning myself.” My face burned with embarrassment and…anger.
How could I dine with this male? The one who’d stolen me from home not two days before? It was all so wrong. Was I to stand here and be scrutinized all while railing and screaming at the injustice on the inside?
I bowed to the king, not sure what else to do.
The king inclined his head. His eyes followed my every move. He stared as if he wasn’t truly aware he was staring at me. So, I did the only thing I knew to do. Stare back. My eyes met his, and though his eyes pierced me through the heart, I would not back down. A thick tension filled the air. Electric. Currents pulsated under my skin as if that same kind of magic bound us. That thread I’d felt before.
“Yes!” Aldaar seemed to appear from out of nowhere and grabbed my arm. “This is Noelle, the baker from the human realm. She is amazing and beautiful and smart. She let me chopthe apples for the tarts. Brother, you are going to love them. We made them special!”
The king seemed to notice our little staring contest or that strange energy—either way, he turned his eyes from me, cleared his throat and said. “I am honored.”
Honored? What was I supposed to do with that?
Aldaar clung to my arm and beamed proudly. I flushed at the strange tension I’d felt, but turned my attention to a much safer place, sweet Aldaar. He gestured excitedly to the mincemeat tarts Rafia had brought up earlier. They lay artfully on the back table beside a log glowing with mushrooms. I smiled to myself at my little secret Christmas rebellion.
“Here is your seat, my lady.” Aldaar led me to the gilded chair right next to the Elf King at the head of the table.
My smile dropped; heat filled my face.Anywhere but here, please.The king must have felt my agitation, so of course he smiled. A feral, frightening smile that caused my insides to turn to molten fire.
“Thank you,” I chirped. My voice was at least two octaves too high. “I am very grateful to be here.”
I most certainly would rather be crying in my rooms.
I lifted my skirts and sat as primly as I could, right next to the Elf King and his ridiculous glare and his bodyguard’s glimmering knives in the back of the room. Aldaar plopped beside me, and before I knew it, the meal began.
