He pushed Cassiel through the entrance. The Celestial angrily whirled around. Zev came in and crossed his arms over his broad chest, challenging him. A muscle jumped in Cassiel’s jaw. His wet hair stuck to his forehead, and water dripped off the ends of his soaked clothes and wings, puddling by his boots. He turned away, conceding to the standoff.
By the gods, he had some sense, after all.
Cassiel sat beside Lord Norrlen and served himself. They continued eating, trying not to slurp in the awkward silence. Lucenna stole glances at them, taking their measure. In Corron, she’d met Cassiel and seen more of Zev’s well-built body than she meant to. Lord Norrlen had been with them, too. He sat at the center of their group. The leader, perhaps.
He had an elegant beauty that only the elves possessed: agile, tall, with a vitality needed to wield his long war bow. Blond locks fell past his shoulders, and stubble shadowed his striking face. His eyes gleamed like two stones of turquoise. He wore leather greaves and bracers, along with his Elvish armor, but his worn clothing was old and torn. Despite it, his speech was too eloquent for that of a penniless commoner. He wore no crests to represent his House, nor any visible insignia to identify which kingdom he pertained to within the Vale. A tattered evergreen cloak rested on his lean frame. Green Elf, maybe? It was a subjective guess.
Whether he was proficient in spells, she didn’t know. Elves had access to limitless power since they drew power from nature, but their magic was much more difficult to learn, and it wore on their bodies. For mages, the degree of their power hovered on their person like heat from a fire, its intensity revealing how powerful they were. But with an elf, they revealed their level of power at the moment of attack.
Lord Norrlen caught her looking and lowered his spoon. “Forgive me. We have failed to properly introduce ourselves. I am Rawn Norrlen of Greenwood.”
Ha, she’d been right.
“I’m Zev,” the werewolf said, then he jerked a thumb at the Celestial. “His Royal Highness over there is Cassiel.”
It sounded like a joke, but Cassiel had an arrogant air of nobility. It wouldn’t surprise her if he were a prince.
Cassiel gave him a rude gesture. “We have already met.”
Dyna beamed at her. “I’m Dynalya Astron, but please call me Dyna.”
“Astron.” Lucenna shook her head. “I find that rather hard to believe.”
She fleetingly glanced at Cassiel from the corner of her eye. “I’ve been told that before.”
When they had met in Corron, Dyna claimed she descended from Azeran. But according to the historical archives, he didn’t sire any children, and he perished during the War of the Guilds. But the Magos Empire had written the history of the war. Only so much of it could be believed.
If anyone were to have access to the archive’s records, it would be Lucien. But she hadn’t told her brother about Dyna’s claim to the Astron line. She didn’t want to explain her encounter with Von, and how she had nearly lost the Luna Medallion. Besides, she had assumed they wouldn’t cross paths again. Yet by some strange fate they had.
“I do not believe we have been given your name, Princess,” Rawn said.
“Princess?” she repeated coolly.
“The mages, they referred to you as so.” He inclined his head respectfully. “They alleged to be following orders of the Archmage. Be he your …”
“The Archmage isnotmy father,” Lucenna said stiffly, annoyed by the assumption. She shared no blood with that monster. “And I’m not a princess.”
Lord Norrlen inclined his head again. “Pardon. I did not intend to offend.”
After an awkward pause, it compelled her to say, “My name is Lucenna.”
They didn’t need to know her family name or anything else about her. She shouldn’t even be speaking to them. Where she came from, who she was, what she needed to do, were secrets she had to guard. Many depended on it, and many had died for it.
“Are you traveling unaccompanied?” Zev asked.
“It has nothing to do with you.”
He raised his brows and returned to his meal. A miasma of disquiet hung too long in the air.
“If our stay here is burdensome, you need only say so,” Dyna said quietly.
With a sharp sigh, Lucenna reined in her irritation. She couldn’t help being suspicious. It’s what kept her alive. But they had saved her from the Elite Enforcers. She disliked feeling indebted.
“You may stay for now. I should thank you for helping me, but help doesn’t come without debts.”
“We relieve you of your debt,” Dyna said. “No one here will harm you. You have my word.”
Lucenna observed the three men. An elf riddled with weapons who moved with unparalleled speed and could disintegrate magic. The werewolf layered in scars and muscle, frightfully strong and who, she suspected, wasn’t a true werewolf when he could shift during the day. Then there was the Celestial, who’d turned his enemies to ash with his sword of divine fire. They all looked back at her impassively, but there was no doubt about how lethal they could be.
