He laughed as he ran. My heart thrilled at the boyish sound of it.
I chased him down, bombarding his back several times, but then I was out.
Elden fled behind a tree. I ran to catch up to him when Elden jumped out from behind, roaring as he knocked me to the ground. Elden fell on top of me, a smile so wide, it reached his molten gold eyes burning like fire, his cheeks pink from the exertion.
“How is this for the element of surprise?” Elden asked as he held me to the snow-covered ground.
I couldn’t feel the cold as I lay there, thanks to the magic of my jacket, but I did feel a mighty heat as the Elf King looked down on me with those eyes, his smile melting away into something real. Intimate. An expression crossed his face. One I could not name. One that looked as if he would break, crack at any moment. His eyes flicked to my lips. Studied them, as if whatever he sought lay there.
My heart pounded, heat rising to my cheeks as my breath guttered. He looked as if he wanted to—did I want him to kiss me? My eyelashes fluttered, and I pulled in a shallow breath. Hope and fear waged a war in my heart. Would he? Could we?
“Well.” The king’s cheeks were flushed with more than the exertion. He hopped off from where I lay, crushed in a pack of snow. “We must continue our quest. No more of these silly delays, Little Baker.”
“What?” I flushed as I pulled myself up to my feet. “It was you who threw the first snowball!”
A glint flickered in the king’s eyes as he offered that same side smile. He didn’t deny it as he strode through the snow to his horse. I huffed as I struggled to keep up with my short-legged stride. But I found my horse and hopped up into my saddle with effort, mumbling incoherent words under my breath—things like “you’rea silly delay”.
The rest of the day passed in a peaceful silence as we rode through the tall forest covered in snow. The sun began its descent as pinks and oranges striped across the sky. We’d come across so many patches of blight, I was afraid of what I might find over each horizon as we crossed deeper into the mountains.
But just over the next bend, we came upon a sleepy village nestled into the hills. Snow-covered steepled roofs and brick facades marked each home. The homes were separated by a good several acres of what could have been farmland. Stables and grain storage dotted out from the properties covered in a thick white layer of snow.
Elden’s hair had turned deep black again as we neared the village. I watched as my own hair turned bluebell blue with a nod from Elden.
“This is the village of Stormhold,” Elden said as we passed by a family of elves bustling down the snow-plowed road. “They are a hardy people and pride themselves on their independence. This is the last village we will see before we reach Winterthorn, but there is no Inn. We’ll have to use the tents again tonight.”
I swallowed down my disappointment. I was hoping for another hot bath. But I smiled and nodded, nerves squirming in my stomach remembering the last night in the tents. The night I spent in the warm bedroll of the king, his arms wrapped about me.
Nerves fluttered in my stomach. These homes were so close to the great mountain of Winterthorn. The blight hung so thick here. How long would the people be able to live among so many patches of blackness that seemed to creep ever closer?
I already knew the answer. Not long.
Darkness fell in earnest as storm clouds rolled in, indigo and menacing.
“We must stop soon,” Elden said as he glanced up. Thunderheads blackened the already dark sky. Another snowstorm was approaching.
We passed by a small A-line cottage set into the snow. Smoke puffed from the chimney, and warmth glowed from the windows. A burly elf with a fiery red beard chopped wood near the front of the cottage. He stopped what he was doing as soon as he spotted us and beckoned us to come closer, surprise in his gaze.
“Well met,” Elden bowed to the elf as we approached.
The male bowed back, eyes flitting between the two of us with thinly veiled suspicion.
“Well met. What brings the two of you this close to Winterthorn this time of year?”
“We were just wed,” Elden said, using our lie from the night before. “And my bride wishes to see all the sights Ravensong has to offer.”
The male let out a hardy laugh, though I could see dark patches of worry lining his eyes. “Well, you may have chosen the wrong time of year to travel this close to the mountains, friend. Come back in the spring when the willowflowers are in bloom, until then, please, come and dine with us. I am sure you are weary from your travels.”
“No sir, we could not possibly trespass on your hospitality.” I started, but both Elden and the burly male shot me a look of great displeasure.
“I am sorry,” Elden smiled, “My wife is not accustomed to country hospitality. We would, of course, be honored to be guests in your home.”
“That’s settled then.” The elf man seemed appeased, “My name is Rowan and my wife, well, she is my everything.”
I nodded, touched by his sudden words of devotion.
“I am Salvore and this is my wife, Holly.”
Holly? Was he teasing me over this Christmas stuff? One look at the twinkle in Elden’s eyes proved that he was very much doing so. I couldn’t keep from smiling, but I tamped it down with a cleared throat.
