“So those rumors are true too? I cannot say I am surprised. Farah marched an army of southern soldiers into this city. We all know what she really is. What I want to know now is whyyouare here.”
Dourin studied the glass in his hand. For all his earlier bravado, he seemed suddenly hesitant. “We came for Ellina.”
“The princess?”
Dourin glanced up. “Is she alive?”
“Oh, she lives.”
Venick sank back against the wall. The news dropped deep. He’d never truly allowed himself to consider this possibility, to think that Ellina might be dead. Now that he knew she wasn’t, he felt…odd. Strangely lightheaded.
Just say it Venick: relieved.
Dourin looked relieved too. He deflated, thumping back in his chair. His eyes crossed the room, and Venick read the thoughts behind them.I told you. See? She is here. She needs us.
Dourin asked, “Where are they holding her?”
Traegar gave Dourin a strange look. “Holding her?”
“As a prisoner. Is she in the dungeons? Or in the palace?”
“Neither.”
“But you just said—”
“I said she is alive, and she is. Alive and free.”
“That…” Dourin frowned. “That cannot be.”
“I assure you it is true.” Traegar paused. He seemed to see the gap in understanding. Venick saw it too. He knew what Traegar would say next. He’d known from the start.
What he hadn’t known was how it would feel: a flash of resentment, sharp like winter rain.
What he hadn’t known was that it would surprise him.
He’d run through it a hundred ways, but had come again and again to the same conclusion. Ellina was twofaced. She was a box with a false bottom. She must be, because what else could explain how she’d turned so callous, how she’d kissed him and then called for his death within the span of an hour? Ellina wasn’t who he believed her to be. She was capable of these treacheries and worse. And yet, despite this supposed certainty, Venick found that he wasn’t ready to hear his suspicions confirmed.
He tried not to. He tried to be far away from himself when the news came. Traegar spoke the words gently. “Perhaps you have not heard? Well, you have been gone. Ellina was named Farah’s right hand. Her advisor. She has pledged her loyalty to Farah’s cause. The north is calling her a traitor.”
THREE
Ellina counted how many ways there were to kill an elf.
A dagger through the eye, the gut, the throat. Poison. A snapped neck. Arrows in the lungs, the heart. Both at once, maybe, if the shooter was good enough.
She was. Raffan had made her learn. Ellina remembered those hard lessons, the relentless training. She remembered his eyes on her, the way he would nod when she succeeded. As a young legionnaire, she had craved those nods. She had been so eager to please him. The memory wormed a hole inside her.
But Ellina was not thinking about memories. She was not thinking about the present, either. Not the cool, elegant dining hall where she currently sat. Not the table before her, piled high with delicacies from the north and east. Not Raffan in the chair by her side, or Farah at the table’s head, or the conjurors prowling the room’s perimeter.
Ellina was counting.
It was as good a strategy as any to keep her face clear. And she must keep her face clear, her expression empty of emotion, because a guard had just appeared in this dining hall, and he had come with a message.The human has returned to the city.
The elf had spoken the words to Farah, but it was as if the message was meant for Ellina alone. She felt those words catch somewhere between her ribs and her heart.The human.The guard had not mentioned a name. There was no need. They all knew who he meant.
Farah set her utensils down. Her finger hovered over her knife, tracing a slow line up its edge. “Where was this?”
“On the east end of the city, near Gold’s Row,” the guard replied. “They were spotted in the market.”
