“Viktor… it’s written in Elvish.”
He glanced over, already tugging his belt tight.
“Yes.”
Her gaze lifted, surprised. “You can read it?”
He crossed to her, took the note from her hand, and with a faint grin, spoke in the flowing tongue:
“Velenar Eliraen. Ael.”
(I speak Elvish, too.)
Her lips parted, wonder softening her face.
“You never cease to undo me.”
His mouth brushed her ear, whispering lower still:
“Nalir en saran, ven elara.”
(I’ll make you mine in every tongue.)
She forgot to breathe, knees near to giving—
A sharp rap shook the door.
“Storne’s chambers. Now.” Evander’s voice pressed through the wood, urgent.
“Xavien’s letter has arrived.”
Chapter Seventy
The Storm’s Reply
The prince asked for her hand. The storm answered first.
Dispatched by the hand of
Prince Xavien Elyander Draekenra
Crown Prince of Elváliev
To Commander Masten Storne
Masten,
I am pleased to hear of your return to Vykenra. Old friends should not remain strangers.
As promised, I have secured your daughter’s place before the Senate. Already, she is spoken of in my house as Princess of Casqadia, and I shall lend her my full support when the vote is cast. In return, I ask one courtesy: that she be offered formally into my hand. Let her enter Vykenra under the guise of leisure and come to Castle Amethyst, that I may receive her in private audience.
If the rumors of her beauty prove true, I shall be persuaded to grant Princess Kastalya her release, and our kingdoms may finally be bound.
Did I ever tell you Cassandra wrote to me before my betrothal? Without her urging, I might have remained a lost prince of Elváliev. She reminded me that duty must endure where desire cannot. I was always so fond of her.
With respect,
Prince Xavien
