“Let us draw up a more official contract then,” I say.
She laughs. “I would be more than delighted after you show me how you all live.”
That is all it takes for the tension between our peoples to ease. I haven’t forgotten what she is or what she’s capable of, but I don’t hate the way it feels to bring her to the forges, or the weaving looms, or the crystal caverns. She is polite and smiles at Estela’s lush plants.
She asks questions, greets human and Enduar alike, and even uses her magic to grow a little thorny flower for Niht when she sees him. That hunter is well-liked by the elves.
Our contract is easy to draw up, as most of the terms have already been discussed multiple times. It isn’t until she asks about our plans to fell her brother and Rholker that I pause. We have spent so much time working on reaching the artifact, and it is hard to accept that we must now plan not one, but two invasions.
“Rholker must die first,” Estela says. Her hand is steady as she points at the battle map before us, and her voice is resolute.
“One could make the case that dethroning my brother would give us even more of an advantage in a battle,” Mrath counters.
I study her unhurried position. “What do you know of Rholker’s court?”
She cocks her head to the side. “I know that the new king faces deep reservations from his court and barely acquired his official title. He has signed a treaty with my brother and it is rumored that he’s tried repeatedly to have the swamp ogres train with his ranks.”
I draw in a deep breath. “Do you know anything of his exact location?”
She purses her lips. “Getting someone that close has been… challenging since the night of the coronation.”
Estela almost looks pleased. “We have sent our own people to infiltrate the ranks. We have not heard from them, but I am confident that targeting Rholker first, while he is still weak, will be agood plan.”
Mrath frowns. “I want my throne.”
Thorne, who sits at her side, utterly still compared to the time he spends away from her, snaps his head over to stare at her.
I don’t know what that action means, but I say, “And you shall have it with my help. But bringing back more humans is of the utmost importance.”
Her eyes trail away from me and to Estela. Then she cocks her head to the side.
“Don’t you have a brother in captivity?”
Estela doesn’t try to hide it. “Yes, but it is not only about that. Rholker will continue to destroy the land we tend. He seeks power, and he is motivated to possess things he shouldn’t want. He needs to be killed before he becomes a tyrant.”
Mrath flicks her wrist. “Kill one tyrant, and another pops up a few centuries later. What’s the point?”
It’s Estela’s turn to look at the woman.
“Then we keep taking them down, for years of peace are worth the pain. And who’s to say if such patterns won’t end?”
Mrath considers this for a long moment. “Well spoken, Human Queen. We will proceed to kill Rholker first, but we will need to know where he is. It’s likely that he is in Zlosa, but acting without assurance is death.”
“Upon that we all agree,” I interject.
The finer details of our plan continue to be ironed out. We will wait for Ra'Salore’s and Melisa’s word, and then we will march. Mrath has offered us one thousand soldiers, but she expects at least two hundred Enduares to fight.
Ner’Feon and Ka’Prinn will be pleased when I tell them of our plans tomorrow.
Once everything is signed and squared away, we move on from the scrolls and memories of war. This night, there is to be a feast, and we all leave to find ourselves in the thralls ofrevelry.
I siton the edge of the bed as Estela slides a close-fitting purple gown over the curves and contours of her body. There are a series of buttons on the back, which she tries and fails to fasten.
“Come,” I say, my voice rumbling as she perches her pretty, round bottom on my lap. My fingers tease the skin of her spine as I do up each button, but my hands linger on her ass as she stands.
She turns around, somehow shy once again, and then slips into the comfortable slippers she often wears. Her skin glows, as do the lights overhead, and all of them glimmer over the shimmery material of her dress, giving the effect of her being covered in water.
I stand, grabbing the jewels I selected for her off the dresser. I slide rings on her fingers while kissing each of her knuckles, then fasten a necklace around her slender throat, and set a crown with a ruby the size of my thumb upon her head. Its fiery energy reminds me of her, intensifying the brightness of her smile.
