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The Broken Elf King: Chapter 4


The next three days were full of meetings, and healings at the infirmary, and private dates with Raife’s top five. Each and every night a note slipped under my door.

They all said the same thing. The girl’s name and the word No.

Tonight was the last girl, the final night.

Lottie Sherwood.

The council had just left the meeting. Their concern that the king had not announced an engagement after four dates had been evident.

I moved to stand and leave to taste the king’s dinner before his final date, when he let his head drop onto the desk with a loud thud.

I grinned. The king and I had become friendly, showing his personality to me more and more. We didn’t speak of what had happened in the healing caves and the deep emotional transference we’d shared there, but he’d been more relaxed around me.

“You look like a man excited for a date,” I joked. “I think Lottie Sherwood is the one.”

He raised his head to look at me, a red mark on his forehead from where the table had indented it. “When I think of spending the rest of my life with any one of the women I’ve spent a mere hour with, I want to meet an untimely death.”

I snort-laughed and then cleared my throat to cover it. “My lord, they can’t have been that bad.”

He gave me a serious glare. “You have no idea. Come tonight and you’ll see. She’ll have some flaw that I can’t live with—that you wouldn’t be able to either.”

I raised one eyebrow. “You’re asking me to crash your date?”

He shrugged. “They aren’t really dates. Gertie brought her father. It’s a formal, stuffy thing. Me bringing my assistant won’t be a problem.”

Attend the king’s date to find a wife? This felt weird, but I was also intrigued, so no way in Hades was I saying no to that.

“I’ll be there,” I told him and stood.

He nodded and his eyes ran over my red silk dress with black lace. “Maybe dress down a bit. Don’t want to make her jealous.” He winked.

My entire body warmed at his compliment. It was a compliment, right?

I laughed nervously. “Of course, my lord.”

After a slight curtsy, I left the room and headed for my sleeping quarters. Dress down. That meant I was dressed too nicely, or just that I might show her up? All of my gowns were made with palace approval—I was told to dress this way as the king’s representative…

Was he calling me pretty? My mind was so frazzled that I walked past my door and had to circle back.

Twenty minutes later, I wore a navy-blue silk gown with dramatic sleeves that covered my arms to my elbows. The fashion lover in me couldn’t allow this outfit to be too boring, so I paired them with lime green high-heeled shoes. The clothing allowance the crown provided me basically allowed for a new dress every other day. I was constantly going to the seamstress to be fitted or look at new fabrics. It was my favorite part of the week.

After stepping into the kitchen, a new chef greeted me.

I frowned. “Where is Brulier?”

“His mother fell sick. He’s gone to travel to Winding Meadow to visit her. He’ll be back next week. You the taster?” He eyed me up and down with scrutiny.

I nodded, and he set two identical plates of food before me. I’d taken to tasting the prospective wives’ food as well. I might as well get used to it, since no one else had come forward and applied for the job. As the king said, no one wanted a twelve-month clock on their life. I tried not to think about it.

Digging into the large hunk of meat, I cut off a small slice from the corner and ate it. Next I grabbed a green bean and then a half a spoonful of some sort of gravy. I did the same to the next plate quickly, eager to meet this woman and attend one of the king’s dates. Once my watch had shown that a full minute had passed since my last bite, I took the two plates through the double doors and spread a smile across my lips.

“Good evening,” I greeted the beautiful woman before me, and then curtsied to the king. Lottie was wearing a peach ballgown with white lace trim; her bright blond hair was tied up into a cascade of curls with braids down the side. She was breathtaking. I instantly felt jealous for some reason.

Setting the plate before her and then the king, I made my way to my seat, where I saw a plate of food was already waiting for me.

“This is my personal assistant, Kailani,” he told Lottie. “I thought it would be nice for her to join us. I spend a lot of time with her, so I’d like for you to get to know her as well.”

A flicker of annoyance crossed her features, but she turned it into a radiant smile. “Of course. Hello, Kailani.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Lottie. I hear you like to play chess?” I took a sip of my water, as a dry tickle had formed in my throat.

She nodded, putting the fork into her meat. The king raised a green bean to his lips.

“I do enjoy the mental stimulation,” she said.

A cramp formed in my stomach and all at once fear rushed into me.

Dry throat. Cramps.

The king was just about to bite the tip of the green bean when I stood up so fast that the chair fell backwards. Reaching forward, I ripped the fork from his hand and threw it on the ground. Next I reached for his and Lottie’s plates and tossed both to the floor.

“What the Hades!?” Lottie yelled, and I doubled forward in agony. My throat was on fire, my stomach felt like it was chewing on razor blades, and I knew I was about to die. Lottie seemed to catch on then, standing and screaming, “Poison!” as she fled from the room.

I looked up at the king and there was so much fear and pain on his face that my heart broke for him.

“No,” he breathed, rushing forward to take me into his arms. I felt it then, bleeding from him and into me. All the trauma of watching his family die was coming right back to him. Funny how I was the one dying and yet I was worried about him.

“It’s okay.” I reached up and wiped away a tear that had slid from his eye.

He blinked rapidly, as if shocked that a tear had produced itself, and then he shook his head. Placing one hand on my stomach, he grit his jaw. “That bitch will not take another from me,” he declared.

All at once it was like the stomach cramping and throat burning was pulled out of my body through my navel. The king’s face went red; he started to gag and then he fell backwards.

“Raife!” I screamed, sitting up and throwing myself on top of him. His face was purple as if he couldn’t breathe, and I remembered what he said then. Why he never saved previous people who had been poisoned by Queen Zaphira. It was too hard to know how much poison to take from the person if it was tasteless and odorless. He was presumably supposed to take half, but he’d taken it all—the idiot took every bit of poison from me.

“Why would you do that!?” Tears leaked from my eyes in panic as I beat on his chest. “Give it back. Give it back to me,” I pleaded, grasping his sweaty palms as if I could suck the poison back into my body.

My chest felt tight, my stomach burning; thoughts of impending doom took over me. I knew they were his thoughts, not mine, and I wasn’t shocked when I felt excitement rush through him as well.

He wants to die. Maybe not actively but for the pain to stop, for the waiting to be poisoned by the queen every day. He was excited to leave all that behind, to be done with it and join his family in the heavenly realms.

Something instinctual kicked in and I sat on top of him, my legs straddling his waist, and started to do chest compressions. It might not be some fancy and magical form of elvin healing, but it worked in the human world. If his face was purple, it meant he couldn’t breathe, so I would breathe for him. I would do everything I could to save him because I wasn’t ready to let him go.

Leaning forward, I pressed my lips to his, pinching his nose with my fingers, and exhaled. It was as if lightning hit my spine; an electrical charge ripped through my back and the breath I exhaled into his mouth was… purple. Small bits of it leaked from the seal of his lips despite my best efforts. I gasped, taking some of the purple breath back into my mouth, and that’s when he coughed, the blue color leaving his face, changing into a violent red, and then peach.

He stared at me wide-eyed, chest heaving as I sat atop him, staring down in complete and utter bewilderment.

“You stupid man!” I screamed, pounding his chest. “I thought you were dying!”

He grasped my hand, catching it midair, his gaze slowly hooding over. “I was, and if you don’t get off of me I think my body is about to show you how alive I really feel right now.” He looked down at his crotch and my legs straddled over it and I blushed, throwing myself off of him and to the floor beside him.

He sat up, resting his arms over his knees, and ran his fingers through his hair.

“What happened?” I asked. “You… you shouldn’t have done that. I’m not worth it.”

His life was way more important than mine.

He cast me a long side glance, opened his mouth to speak, and then the doors from the kitchens burst open. It was Mrs. Tirth. “The chef has fled. Lottie said there was poison? Is everyone okay?” She looked frantically from me to the king.

Raife stood, fists balled. “Fled where?” he growled.

Mrs. Tirth swallowed hard. “The gardens, my lord. Minutes ago—”

Raife took off out the dining hall and through the kitchens, seemingly to give chase to the chef who’d just tried to kill us both.

It was at this precise moment that I had a mental breakdown. Sobs wracked my chest as I processed everything that had just happened.

“Oh dear.” Mrs. Tirth crouched beside me and helped me stand. “Did he heal you?” She looked confused as to how I was still alive.

I nodded.

Then I healed him back … I think, I wanted to say, but didn’t. Whatever that purple breath thing was, it was freaky and I was too shaken to process it properly.

“What’s happened to your hair?” She reached out and fingered my locks.

I frowned, confused at what she meant, then I saw that in a bed of my brown hair was a thick streak of white.

That was too much for me to handle. I just shook my head and burst into tears again.

“Oh, hush, darling. It’s okay.” She pulled me into a hug and it reminded me of my sweet auntie. Oh how I missed her and her big strong hugs. I wondered what she was doing right now and if she was worried about me. If she had any idea how close I just came to death, she would have completely lost it.

Mrs. Tirth walked me back to my rooms and I slipped out of my gown and soaked in a hot bath. Afterward, I put on a short blue satin nightgown and decided I’d read by the window to get my mind off of things. I loved science and mathematics, but for times like these only a romance novel would do. Luckily, the king had many in his library, I supposed from his sisters or even his mother.

The one I had my eye on was by J. Hall. It was about a fallen winged being called an angel and her soulmate lover. I stroked the gold feather embossed on the cover and then startled when a small rap sounded at my door.

I set the book down and rushed forward just as the white note slipped under the door.

I held my breath as I opened it.

It was longer than all the others and I brought it back to the couch with me to read.

I HOPE YOU’RE OKAY. I didn’t want to wake you if you were resting.

Thanks for… saving me.

Lottie is a No. She told Mrs. Tirth she could never live in constant fear of being poisoned.

Back to the drawing board tomorrow? The elders want a meeting first thing in the morning.

-Raife

I STROKED THE WORDS, I hope you’re okay. Never in a million years did I think I’d be at the service of a king to pay off my debts, and I hadn’t expected him to be a decent man. Kings were jerks, rich bastards who acted above you and never let you speak your mind. Not Raife. It was my job to find him a wife, and dammit I was going to. I knew now more than ever how important getting the council to back his war was. The queen wouldn’t stop coming after him—his future wife, their children. If Raife and his army really stood a chance at taking her out, then I wanted to help him. It would throw Nightfall into chaos for a small time but then one of her more level-headed sons would take over. Her eldest, the psychopath of the family, was killed several months ago by Dragon King Drae Valdren. Now all that was left were her six sons who seemed decently normal as far as rulers went. Nothing like their monster mother.

I barely slept. Instead I drew up pages and pages of ideas. After crossing them out, I landed on the three most plausible and wrote them in my best cursive script.

  1. An arranged marriage like the fae do, with a highborn family where Raife pays a dowry of sorts and the woman agrees without even seeing him.
  2. A grand ball with every single woman in all of Archmere in attendance. He would pick the prettiest one after a night of dancing and propose the very next day.
  3. And lastly, a totally desperate idea, a fake marriage. A friend or old lover who would agree to a charade to convince the council he was settled and on his way to having heirs so he could fund his war. Dara?

THE NEXT MORNING, I wore a blue crushed velvet gown with a sleeveless lace-up corset, and clutched my little marriage ideas parchment proudly.

The meeting with the council was in five minutes, and after we heard what they had to say I’d scheduled in some time for just Raife and I to brainstorm my ideas and which one he might like.

I stopped by the kitchens. Mrs. Tirth was there with a frown as the rest of the staff cleaned and did dishes around her. Everyone looked sullen and the mood was low. “He’s decided to fast today,” she said.

My stomach dropped. He was too scared to eat. After last night he’d rather not eat than be poisoned again. I didn’t blame him.

I frowned. “Do we know anything about the poison used?”

She shook her head. “The queen’s special blend. Tasteless, scentless, and now takes at least five minutes to kick in.”

I picked up an apple and took a bite, deciding to just have the small piece of fruit for breakfast. Surely the poison couldn’t be injected into an apple, could it?

After I swallowed the one bite, I wondered if it could be injected into an apple and chucked it into the trash. “When will Chef Brulier be back?” I asked her.

She shrugged. “His mother is dying. Old age, nothing that can be done.”

He was the only chef I trusted.

“Very well. Until he returns, I will be cooking all of the king’s and my meals,” I informed her.

Half the kitchen staff stopped then and turned to me.

Mrs. Tirth frowned. “You cook?”

I shrugged. “Kept my aunt and I alive, how hard can it be? You’re all excused until further notice!” I said loudly.

They froze, looking worriedly from Mrs. Tirth back to me.

“You heard her,” Raife’s voice boomed from behind me, and I jumped a little.

They set down what they were working on and began to leave. Mrs. Tirth sensed this was a private moment, and chose to see herself out as well.

“You can cook?” he asked.

I turned, drinking him in. He wore a high-collared gray silk tunic, and his hair was tied into a knot at the back of his neck. There were dark bags under his eyes indicating he hadn’t slept much either.

“It may not be up to a king’s liking, but I can make stew and basic flatbreads. I can keep us fed and not poisoned.”

He reached up and brushed his fingers across his chin. “I thought you hated doing dishes?”

I nodded. “I do. I won’t be doing them. We’re calling the maids back every night to clean up.”

A grin pulled at his lips and his gaze traveled down my gown. My body heated when he did, and I hoped it was from arousal and not injected apple poison. I wanted to ask him what happened last night, what the purple breath healing thing was, why he looked so good in a simple gray silk tunic…

“Are you okay?” He reached up and ran the back of his finger along the outside of my neck, down my throat and to my collarbone.

I froze, melting under his touch.

He pulled his hand back as if realizing what he was doing. “I mean, my throat is still a little raw,” he said.

I shook my head. “I’m fine… physically speaking.”

He nodded. “And emotionally?”

“A total wreck inside,” I confirmed, which caused him to bark out in laughter.

Hades, I loved that sound. I couldn’t help but grin, as his joy was infectious.

“Well, that makes two of us,” he said, and eyed my apple in the trash with the missing bite.

I fingered the white lock of my hair at the base of my neck and Raife reached up to touch it.

“I was in the library late last night and read that a traumatic event can cause the hair to go white,” he said.

“It can?” I asked.

He nodded, and I tied my hair up in a bun, tucking it away so neither of us had to look at it.

“The council is waiting,” I told him. I wanted to ask what that purple breath was, but I honestly couldn’t handle the answer. Had I saved him? Was that really what happened? Because if so I was really starting to freak out and I didn’t want to think about it anymore.

He nodded, gesturing that I lead the way as his hand came to the small of my back to usher me out of the kitchens. I turned back and looked at the small space. “Post two of your most trusted Bow Men at each kitchen entrance and exit. No one in or out but me and the dishwasher. No one else. Not even Mrs. Tirth. This is my kitchen now.” I liked the woman, but I didn’t trust anyone right now.

He frowned, looking concerned, but nodded.


THE MEETING with the council was more intense than I had prepared for.

“I’m sorry to hear of another assassination attempt,” Haig said. “But this is proof we need you to take a wife and start a family lest you be wiped out by the Nightfall queen.”

Raife rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’m working on it.”

“Are you?” Aron asked. “Because the mothers say you haven’t called any of the girls back for second dates.”

Raife looked at me pleadingly and I held up the piece of parchment with my ideas on it. “Actually, gentlemen, I have his short list right here. We are going over it after this meeting. Picking the woman you will spend the rest of your life with is no small matter. You’re all married, you should know that,” I told them, eyeing the swirled elvin rings on their marriage fingers.

I knew Raife could smell the lie, but he wouldn’t care.

The council shifted in their seats. “We want a proposal by the end of the week. Wedding next month, and an heir by next year. You got it, son?” Haig said with the stern voice of a caring father.

Raife sighed. “I got it.”

Geez. That wasn’t really leaving a lot of time to fall in love and travel the countryside, to grow together before throwing a screaming baby in the mix. Don’t get me wrong, I loved children; babies smelled like new life and joy, but they also took up your entire day and night and your life was never the same after you had one. I wanted at least five years alone with my husband before popping any of those out.

Poor Raife.

His whole life was dictated by this council, this kingdom, this life.

The council bid us a good day then, and left the room, latching the door behind them as they left.

Raife turned to me and eyed the parchment. “Short list, huh?”

I shrugged. “I mean, not a total lie, it’s a short list of ideas.” I handed it to him.

He read it, his eyes going from the parchment to me and back to the parchment. His gaze returned to me and he rubbed his chin, chewing on his bottom lip. “You might be on to something here, Lani.”

The pet name took me off guard.

Lani. It’s what my auntie and close friends called me.

“Oh, which do you like?” I leaned forward to see his finger on the third, most desperate option.

Fake Marriage.

“I mean… that’s a last resort after the fancy ball and—”

“I don’t want a fancy ball or some big, drawn-out thing. I want to get married, get the council off my ass, and then get the funding for my war.”

My heart hurt a little that he didn’t want the true love option. The big ball would have been fun to plan.

I nodded. “Very well. Do you have a trusted confidant that would agree to such an arrangement? Maybe… Dara?” It killed me to say it. I didn’t know why I was jealous of his whore but I was.

His cheeks reddened and he shook his head. “She’s not… wife material.”

Relief rushed through me but I hid it. “Well, who did you have in mind?”

He stared at me for an uncomfortably long amount of time. Setting the parchment down, he reached out and took my hand. “You.”

Complete and total shock ripped through me. “Me?”

He nodded. “We spend all day together anyway, every meal, all these meetings. The council would totally buy it, and you’ve become like a best friend to me. I genuinely enjoy spending time with you.”

Best. Friend. It was like a knife to the heart. I was afraid he’d somehow feel the pain of it, so I gently slipped my hand from his. “Oh,” I said, and got up, starting to pace the room.

What is happening?

“You’re pacing,” he observed.

“I’m processing a fake marriage with the elvin king,” I deadpanned.

He inclined his head. “I would of course increase your pay. It would have to be believable. I cannot have the council getting wind of this in the middle of a war with the Nightfall queen and then take my funding.”

Increase my pay. A paid position. Ouch. The knife he’d stabbed in my heart twisted deeper.

“You haven’t said anything,” he said, nervousness creeping into his voice.

“Still processing.” I lapped the small room, wearing lines in the carpet.

A fake marriage to the king. Like… with kisses and sharing a bed and stuff? “Would we… consummate this marriage?” I blushed as I said it.

He looked surprised by that. “No. It’s fake. No one needs to know what goes on behind closed doors. But hand holding and the occasional kiss would be required.”

Best. Friend.

Kissing him was something I had thought about—before he’d called me his best friend. Now I just wanted to die. I was so grateful I was the empath and not him.

“Increasing my pay for it feels weird. I’m not a whore,” I finally said, and turned to face him.

He flinched as if I’d slapped him. “I don’t think you are—I would never think that. I was merely trying to make the arrangement attractive to you.”

“How long are we talking?”

Was I seriously considering this?

“However long it takes me to win a war against the queen. I’ve already gotten the king of Embergate to agree to join me. I’ll be working on Lucien Thorne and Axil Moon next.”

Wow, he’d gotten the word of the dragon king and would be going after the fae king and wolf king next? “You plan to go after the queen united?” I asked in surprise.

He nodded. “Only way it will work. She’s regrettably too powerful otherwise.”

He was right. I was feeling more confident about his war efforts now that I knew he had planned to get the others involved.

“I want my aunt healed,” I blurted out. “I don’t want extra money, but I want you to extradite my aunt and heal her, set her up in a home here. I don’t want her living in there if you will bring war to the Nightfall realm.”

He stood. “Done. I’m sorry I didn’t offer to heal her earlier.”

Done? Just like that? I wondered what else I could have asked for.

“The council said they expect a child next year.” I blushed.

He nodded. “I’ll tell them we are trying. You are half human, so that could be to blame for a few years.”

Holy Hades, was I really saying yes to this?

Raife sidestepped the table and took both of my hands in his. “Kailani, ever since I was fourteen years old and the queen robbed me of the privilege of a family, I vowed to get revenge. To get justice for my mother, my father, Trini, Raelin, Dane, Akara, Gwen, and Sabe.”

Hearing their names caused tears to line my eyes. I could feel the emotions rolling through him like waves. Excitement at this idea, that it could work to appease the council, anger at the queen, protection and adoration for me.

His hands pulled away and he cleared his throat. “Do me this favor and I will deny you nothing. For so long as I live, whatever you ask I will grant it. Please, Lani.”

Whoa. He was all but begging me.

So we would marry, defeat the queen and then we divorce? I guessed there were worse ways to spend my twenties.

“Okay, Raife. I’ll do it. For you and for your family.”

He grinned, rushing forward to pick me up. His arms came around the back of my legs as he stood, vaulting me into the air and spinning me around. Laughter bubbled out of me as pure elation rushed through him and into my body. This moment right here made being an empath a wonderful thing. Feeling someone else’s joy, sharing in their elation, it was beautiful.

He set me down then and slammed his open hand on the table in excitement. “It’s time to plan a wedding. And then a war.”

I mean, it wasn’t what every blushing bride wanted to hear, but I’d take it.


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