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Bow Before the Elf Queen: Chapter 3


Layala squirmed in her seat. She sat directly across from the most notorious killer in Adalon. Said to be deadlier with his bare hands than most warriors were with a weapon. Feared above all, even more than his father. Only rivaled in infamy by the Black Mage himself. And she was supposed to marry him—and murder him.

“Prince? No.” He tilted his head slightly, making the morning light coming through the window reflect off his silver face covering. “I am High King of Palenor now.”

She blinked several times as a mixture of shock, anger and elation coursed through her. “Is he… dead?” Anger because if Tenebris was dead she wasn’t the one to end him. Why hadn’t word spread of this?

“I would still hold the title of prince otherwise, wouldn’t I?”

Layala arched her eyebrow. “How?”

The new High King didn’t respond. He tilted his head toward the sheer black curtains covering the windows.

“How do I know if you’re who you claim to be when you hide your face from me?” Layala shifted nervously, trying to judge if his skin might be turning paler than was normal or if his fingers had grown claws. He could be attempting to hide his becoming a pale one. What if he wasn’t Thane at all? He wore leather riding gloves, but as far as she could tell from the small amount that was exposed, his skin still had a warm golden tone to it.

“Would you recognize me if I took off my mask? Do you know what Thane Athayel looks like?” He sounded amused as if he already knew she didn’t.

Embarrassed by her own ignorance, she glanced out the window at the redwood trees going by, dug her fingers into the red velvet fabric beneath her, and shook her head.

Rather than revealing his face, he pulled off a glove, then slowly tugged at the fingers of the other. What was he doing? Layala pressed herself further back into the cushioned bench, every muscle tense.

“You don’t need to fear me. I will not hurt you,” he said and rolled up his left sleeve. She didn’t believe him. His reputation for brutality preceded his arrival. Would they use torture to get her to invoke her magic? Aunt Evalyn said they might. For all her training, she was still only one person. Thane would have thousands of guards and soldiers at his command. He had three right here, all of whom had to be his best or he wouldn’t have brought them. Maybe even more soldiers she hadn’t seen.

“Proof,” he went on, “I am who I say I am.” He showed his wrist; the mate rune matching hers marred his skin in the same place.

It didn’t settle her nervousness. Her stomach knotted. “And the mask?”

“Perhaps I simply like it.”

He’d only like it if he wanted to be intimidating—threatening, both of which he accomplished. Layala pressed her lips together, wishing she could see through metal.

“I am meeting my future wife for the first time since childhood. It’s ceremonial for the High King to wear a mask in such cases.”

Her cheeks flushed hot with anger. Layala fisted her hands at her sides. Stay calm, she demanded of herself. If she was ever going to get out of this, she couldn’t lose her temper, couldn’t show her hand this early in the game. “Your wife.” She tried to sound even, cool but a little disgust slipped into her tone.

“You don’t sound enthused about that.”

“Should I?”

“Many females would.”

Layala stared incredulously.

“But I suppose you wouldn’t. You don’t know me.”

“Or even what you look like.”

He tapped his foot lightly. “Does that bother you?”

“If you couldn’t see me, would it bother you?”

“You are rather beautiful. Your eyes are the most stunning blue, and your hair as black and shiny as a raven’s feathers. The contrast is alluring. But what if I wasn’t beautiful? Maybe I am afraid you’ll find me hideous.”

“Even if you were the most beautiful male alive, I’d still find you hideous. I know about you and your father’s desperation to have magic and what you have done. And I have no doubt you’re exactly like him.”

“If I were exactly like him, you might be regretting your choice of words right now.”

Layala bit down on her bottom lip. She needed to settle down. If she was too nice he’d be suspicious but if she was too hostile he’d have more reason to see her as a threat to watch closely. Lowering her voice to sound docile, she said, “He would hurt me?”

“Yes.” His voice was firm, resonant.

“But you won’t?”

“I said I wouldn’t.” He leaned forward slightly. “I apologize. We’re getting off to a bad start.”

She stared at him. What start would he expect? Pleasantries and smiles when he forcibly took her from her home?

They sat in quiet, the sounds of the creaking carriage and beating hooves filling in for their lack of words. He abruptly slammed his fist against the door three times, making her jump, and the carriage slowed to a halt. The High King then shoved the door open. “It’s a long ride to Palenor. We’ll stop only when necessary, for your safety.” He stood up and paused, facing the door. “And we will wed soon after we reach Castle Dredwich.”

We shall see about that, High King.

When he stepped out, she leaned forward to watch him jump onto the back of a tall, ebony horse with a mane and tail even she was envious of. His deep green cloak flowed out behind him as his horse jetted forward.

They were on the move again before she could get a good look at who else might be out there. She was jolted all over the carriage on the rough road for hours. They would have gone over Brackendaw Bridge by now and through Sweet Bell village. She used to go there to sneak away with Novak when they didn’t want anyone to know he was courting her. Sweet Bell was far enough away no one knew them but close enough they could get there easily. Human and elven relationships were frowned upon. Layala wished every day she’d listened to those who warned them.

The carriage jerked and creaked, the clop of horse hooves pounded. She touched the red velvet interior for hidden compartments, slid her hands beneath the seats for any weapons, something she could use to protect herself, but it was frustratingly ordinary. She peeked out the window on occasion but no one rode directly beside the carriage. All she saw were the meadows, trees, and grasslands. She didn’t even know how many she rode with. Certainly, the High King of Palenor would have a large company.

When it was dark, a deep voice said, “Woah, woah,” and they began to slow. Layala peeled aside the curtain. The stars twinkled above, and the moon shone down on a nearby apple orchard.

“I have to take a piss,” the same male voice said, and the carriage shifted as he hopped down.

Layala needed to do the same and if they were going to go at this pace, she wanted to grab some apples. Her stomach protested for food all day. They didn’t stop to eat. Apparently the king didn’t find eating necessary. She pushed the door open and it was immediately slammed shut.

“Stay inside,” the female said.

Layala glared at the elf. Her hood covered half her face but a shiny red braid stuck out. “I’ve been in here all day. I have to squat behind a bush, if you know what I mean.”

“Fine. Wait.” A few moments later the door popped open and the red-haired elf shoved a black cloak into Layala’s hands. “Put that on. We can’t risk being seen here.”

Being seen as elves? Or Thane Athayel being seen here? It would be suspicious to see a group of elves traveling in the human kingdom of Svenarum, or would attract attention at the very least. Layala slipped it over her shoulders and pulled the hood up. She jumped down, her boots hitting the hard rocky dirt road. The High King must have gotten off his horse. She didn’t find him and his absurd mask anywhere. She was surprised to find only three horses aside from the team pulling the carriage. That meant there was only the king, two guards, and one driver. A swell of hope filled her chest; her chances of getting away increased.

But she was curious—why would someone with a status such as his take a risk like this? He didn’t need to fetch her himself. And why so few guards? If any number of rogues or certain groups knew where he was, it could be a bloodbath… unless he wasn’t afraid. Thane was ruthless and savage when it came to destroying his enemies, unmatched when it came to the sword.

Taking in a deep breath of fresh air that smelled of wildflowers, she searched for a place to go. To the right of the road were the apple orchards and to the left was a small wood with oak and ash trees with full green leaves. Grass as high as her hips grew at their base which would provide cover for her to relieve herself. There was also a boulder as big as a horse… She knew this place. Gaudrey’s Hot Spring was close, and where the spring was, a poisonous plant grew. Deadly enough to bring down a horse in minutes, and an elf… even faster. Guided by moonlight, she started off toward the woods with the female elf steps behind her.

“Stay close,” Red sounded guarded, fearful even.

Layala twisted around but kept walking. She’d been in these woods before and it was rare to encounter any dangerous creatures. “There’s nothing out here to be afraid of. And I don’t need an audience.”

Red hurried to walk in step beside Layala. “When you’ve seen what I’ve seen, there is always something to fear. To allow you to wander off alone would make me daft.”

“I’m not going to run away.” She’d done enough running. Movement near the boulder caught her eye. The three males looked to be peeing on it. Having been around a bunch of men, she guessed they were trying to write their names. The laughter coming from them would say as much. She couldn’t help but look for Thane, but she didn’t know which was him.

“And why would I believe that?” Red asked. “All signs would point to you trying to go into hiding again to avoid your duty.”

“Duty?”

“Yes, you are the High King’s mate. His promised wife. Your duty is to be with him.”

“And what is his duty to me?” Layala spotted a wide trunked tree that would offer privacy.

“To protect you.”

“From who?” If not Thane himself, she wanted to add but thought better of it. It was he and his supposedly dead father she needed protection from.

Red didn’t offer an answer. Layala huffed and made her way around the tree. Following, Red folded her arms and watched Layala as she loosened the buttons on her trousers.

“Are you truly going to watch me? Tell you what, if you don’t hear it hitting the ground in a few seconds you’ll know this was all a ruse to get away.”

With a sigh, Red turned around.

“Why aren’t there more guards?” Layala asked.

“Thane didn’t want anyone else aware of where you were but just know we will keep you safe.”

For whatever reasons they were concerned with her safety specifically. But the Athayels were the ones who’d been hunting her for the last twenty-four years. They were the enemy. “How did you find me?”

“Not my business to tell.”

A steel trap that one. When Layala was finished, she walked right by her guardian and started for the carriage. The others were already waiting.

One of the males crouched adjacent to a small pile of branches and stoked a budding fire in the middle of the roadway. Another leaned his back against the carriage door, one heel hooked on the bottom step. The other male worked at unsaddling one of the horses. The three wore identical cloaks covering their heads and shadowing their faces, all about the same height and stature, but Thane must be the one leaning against the carriage. The other two clearly worked for him.

Her skin crawled when he pushed off the carriage. The bottom of his cloak flowed out around him. “Come, Layala.”


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