That day I overheard him he was talking about his real motivation for coming here. He doesn’t want to bow to the king or work on our relations, he’s here looking for the same thing I am. A way to free this land from the nasty curse that’s plagued it for far too long.
But do I tell him of my plans? Can I trust him? Would he even believe me? He seems to loathe me and everything to do with my people, so I can’t imagine he’d simply accept my word. Maybe it would be nice to have an ally, though. I’m constantly surrounded by elves who don’t ever seem concerned about the rest of our world suffering. Or they’ve just accepted it, because that’s the way it’s always been, and they’re far too comfortable. Maybe it never occurred to most of them that a curse can always be broken. Always.
It’s occurred to Daegan, apparently. I don’t know if he has any sort of concrete plan, but I know he’s determined. I wonder if that’s why he’s researching so hard over there. I glance over again and notice a dozen more books scattered across his table.
Since he’s been watching me anyway, perhaps I can slowly clue him in. Maybe I can slowly gain his trust and eventually have an ally. Though as of right now, he treats me like an enemy he wants to murder.
It will be difficult. The hatred between our people runs deep.
After a few unsuccessful hours of reading and ignoring the figure across the way, scouring the texts for the last slice of information I think I need, my eyes begin to feel as if sand is stuck in them, so I pack the books into my bag, still ignoring the dragon, and head toward my quarters. It’s late. No one else should be out at this time of night.
Chapter 5
I wake with a start to a familiar bell.
I’ve heard it every morning without fail my entire life. It marks the countdown to breakfast time. People used to wake with the light of the sun, apparently, but I’ve never known that. Now there is just an onyx night, and a gray day. The sun is still up there, scholars figured long ago, however, only some of rays from above trickle into our world through the haze, somehow still keeping us warm and maintaining life. It’s almost like a permanent storm cloud hanging over us. Once in a while, those clouds will make their way through the haze and hang below, releasing their snow or rain before disappearing.
Magic is rarely understood by our people.
I hurry and get ready, throwing a floor-length embroidered coat over my dress. Father has requested my presence for breakfast this morning.
I make my way to his wing, which takes quite a while since the castle is massive and I have to travel down several flights of stairs then back up several more, talking to no one until I reach the guards outside his rooms. They let me in as I say good morning, not returning the greeting. Rude.
“Father? You called for me?”
“Have a seat, my dear.”
I approach his vast dining table in his private quarters with trepidation, noticing the various fruits and pastries scattered across it. Far too much for the two of us.
He sits at the head of the table. It’s unusual for him to summon me so early in the day. It’s unusual for him to summon me at all, really. Most of the time he simply leaves me to my business.
My mother, the queen, died in childbirth. I never knew her. On the rare occasion that my father speaks of her, it is with fondness, though it doesn’t feel like he loved her deeply. It seems like more of a respectful appreciation for the woman who stood by his side and birthed his only heir. The paintings are the only things I have to show me what she looked like, and even those feel like looking at a stranger most of the time. Though I stare at them often wondering what she was like. But still, it will never tell me what her laugh sounded like, what her personality was. I have her plant and I used to obsess over a few of her old trinkets and jewelry, but besides that, I have no insight into who she was.
I seem to be a mix of the two of them. My mother’s skin was a beautiful bronze, while my father is pale. I landed somewhere in the middle. Her eyes were a dark brown, with thick black eyelashes and strong eyebrows, while my father’s are a light crystal blue. I have light golden. And her hair was long, thick, straight, and black, while my father has brown. Mine is also brown, and my eyebrows aren’t quite as pronounced as hers, but I do like to think I at least got her lashes.
Still, if you sat me next to him, no one would guess I was his blood unless you knew us. And for that, I’m sort of grateful. I don’t want to stand out as the king’s daughter everywhere I go. When I journey into town without a crown or anything to mark my status, no one suspects a thing.
“How are you this morning?” I ask as I take the seat closest to him, turning my body so I face him completely.
He offers a tight-lipped smile that surprisingly reaches his eyes. He’s in a good mood today. “I’m fine.”
My father may be complacent for keeping his rule over the kingdom with the help of the curse, but I’ve never doubted that he loves me, in his own way. Unfortunately, he doesn’t fool me, and I know he has to be aware of the damage it’s doing. Which, unfortunately, puts me in a tough position. At some point, I will tell him. When I find out how to break the curse, I want to give him the chance to do good, to join me in restoring our land to its former glory.
There are paintings from before. Beautiful scenes filled with color and light. Stories that described a night sky with a million twinkling stars. I find it hard to imagine witnessing such a thing, even though I’ve seen paintings of it. One even sits in my room, and I look at it often. I have a strong feeling that it simply doesn’t do it justice though.
For now, I’m keeping my plan very close to my chest. Closer than the dagger I’ve been carrying around. I’m not sure who I can trust, to be honest. I’ve been on this journey completely alone, and sometimes, that can be very,very lonely. A trustworthy friend to confide in would be nice. I’ve pondered telling Meela, but I’m not entirely sure she’d care about the cause.
Perhaps I underestimate people, but if I’m not certain, I simply cannot risk it. Too much is at stake. If I tell one wrong person, they could ruin everything. The elves are less affected than most other species, and they’re comfortable here in Ellyar, unchallenged and safe from the horrors that much of the land faces. There are many who would be against seeing that all ruined. And maybe they’d report it to the king and he’d put a stop to my plan. I’m afraid to know how he’d feel about it.
“What’s going on?” I ask when a stretch of silence grows between us for too long.
“I wanted to talk to you about something. It’s about… our guests.”
“The dragons.”
“Do they look like dragons to you?” His tone takes on an arrogance that I don’t care for.
“No. I suppose not.”
