AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It’s very good.”
She was met with silence.
“I’ve been reading a book about elven servants’ customs,” she blurted out, not giving herself the time to second-guess her approach. Alyra’s head snapped up, her pale eyes locking onto Anthea’s. “Is it true every time you see a noble elf, you have to stand with your back against the wall and bow your head?”
Alyra’s eyes narrowed slightly. “What book are you reading?”
“‘The Duties and Decorum of Elven Servitude.’ Prince Endreth gave it to me.”
A light chuckle escaped the elf’s lips as she stared at Anthea with a look of bemusement. “That old relic?” She leaned back in her chair. “It’s ancient. I didn’t think anyone even read that anymore.”
“How old is it, exactly?”
The elf shrugged, seemingly deep in thought. “At least two thousand years, maybe more. It’s a relic from a very different time. The customs have changed a lot since then.”
Two thousand years, maybe more. That’s how old the book was. She felt a spark of anger toward Endreth. How dare he play with her like that! Handing her an antiquated piece of history and expecting her to take it as a current manual—it was absurd, laughably so.
“Why would Prince Endreth give you this book?”
Anthea had a myriad of thoughts on that. Because he’s a pompous, arrogant asshole, being the first one. But she bit her tongue, not daring to share her resentment openly. So, she looked up from her stew and met Alyra’s questioning gaze and answered instead. “He probably wanted me to understand the historical perspective.”
Alyra tilted her head, the torch light reflecting in her pale blue eyes. “Curious, indeed. A book as old as that about elven servitude given to a newcomer like you. Most peculiar.” There was a pause, the room filled only with the distant clatter of dishes and the muffled conversations of other servants. “Where did the prince find you?”
Anthea’s heart raced. She had to be careful, tread lightly. “I was on a merchant ship, working as a slave,” she lied. “The ship faced a storm and went down. I washed ashore, lucky to be alive. The Crimson court’s soldiers found me.”
A soft gasp escaped Alyra’s lips. “That’s dreadful,” she whispered, leaning closer. “You must’ve been terrified.” Her voice was laced with empathy.
“I was.” Anthea took another spoonful of the fish stew.
Anthea flung the book onto the massive wooden table, the thud echoing through the high-ceiling room.
Endreth, who had been writing something on a piece of parchment, glanced up. The tip of his quill had paused mid-sentence, a drop of dark ink threatening to fall onto the parchment.
“Thank you, for the history lesson!” she hissed.
His surprise quickly morphed into an amused smirk. “You have finished it already?” He set down his quill, leaned back, and folded his arms across his chest. “I hope you took the teachings on the pages to heart?”
“Do you find this amusing?”
“Amusing?” Endreth echoed, his face showing a faux surprise as he pushed himself off from the chair. “I merely thought you could use some of the teachings in the book—to get better acquainted with your role.”
Anthea faltered at his words, the hidden meaning slowly sinking in.
“While the customs and practices of elven servitude have changed,” he continued, his tone unchangingly smooth, “your public role here, Anthea, is to be a slave.” He got up and slowly walked toward one of his bookshelves, his slender fingers tracing the spines of the ancient books. He pulled out another lengthy tome, and held it out to her. “Perhaps this book will enlighten you further.”
Hesitantly, she stepped closer and took it from him, her hands trembled as she read the title: The Ways to Discipline an Unruly Slave.
Endreth watched her closely. “It has pictures,” he added.
Anthea threw the tome back at him. “You can keep your books!” she hissed, turning on her heel and storming toward the double doors.
“We have not finished our evening test yet,” Endreth called out.
A shiver ran down her spine at the dangerous edge to his voice, making her freeze in place. She clenched her jaw, her chest rising and falling with deep, ragged breaths. Slowly, Anthea turned around to face him again.
“I don’t care about your stupid tests. For three weeks, you have tested me—I’m immune. What more is there to test?”
“Plenty.” His answer was soft—a deadly whisper that made her skin crawl. “We have merely skimmed some light harmless spells, but it seems it is time for something . . . more potent.”
