Page 100 of Black Sea

“And we are immensely grateful to you,” Mother added, “for doing your best to protect her, Your Majesty.” She briefly locked her sorrowing gaze with her mate’s, then looked back at Amlach with an expression of profound, nearly reverent gratitude. “Immensely.”

Amlach peered down at me so piercingly that for a moment I forgot we weren’t alone.

“We protected each other,” he replied, with the ghost of a knowing smile on his lips.

“As if it were written that you were to meet on that battlefield,” the queen continued, her voice rising with passion, watching us as if we were pieces of a puzzle coming together before her. “And face together the trials that the Spirits have placed in your path.”

“Please . . .” Araton muttered in Elvish, his voice thick with contempt.

Father sliced him a glance so stern that my brother looked away.

“I agree with the words of my queen, King Amlach,” Father then said. “In good conscience, I cannot ignore this curious plan of the Spirits, nor your incredible regard for my daughter, despite your dislike of us elves.” He paused intentionally, then took a solemn breath. “Therefore, after grave consideration, I have decided to give you a second chance.”

Amlach tensed up dangerously. “A second chance,” he echoed through his teeth.

Father stiffened as well, widening his shoulders in a fruitless attempt to become taller than Amlach. “We once again offer our croplands in the Glawar plain to you.”

“And we promise you,” Mother added firmly, “that our druids and the most skilled witches will work day and night tirelessly to uncover what evil has taken hold of your kingdom.” She fixed her gaze on Amlach. “We will find a cure.” Then she looked at each of us, resolute and confident. “All of us, together.”

Amlach’s long silence sent a cold shiver down my spine. He was about to reject my father’s proposal again. I sensed it. Suddenly, it became clear to me that he expected my father to give him Calien’s Crystal, after all he had done to keep Roxior from turning me into a prostitute.

Before I knew it, I found myself standing before him, resolute. “Amlach, please. If you don’t accept, your people will abandon you. They’re already abandoning you. And soon, there won’t be any humans remaining in the Lands of the East.” I moved closer without thinking. “Set aside your pride. Save your people.”

Save yourself.

He looked down at me, his expression so unreadable. Impenetrable. As if he had built an ice wall between us.

Slowly, he dragged his hard stare to my father. “And what if I refuse? Again?” His tone turned challenging. “What if I ask once more for Calien’s Crystal, which would surely save the Kingdom of Men?”

I curled my lips in anger, my fingers tingling with the urge to punch him in the stomach to clear his mind and make him reason.

Father responded to Amlach’s defiant look with one full of regality. “You will be executed on the banks of the Glawar, in front of your people.”

I shut my eyes, biting back the instinct to cover my ears.

Father continued, “To humans who will seek help, asylum will be granted in our kingdom. Those who will refuse to leave their homes will soon die along with the land.”

“Or we could send him back to Rubra,” Araton suggested in Elvish. A grin formed on his face. “It looks like he was very loved there.”

I whipped my head toward him, my eyes flashing. “Over my dead body,” I snarled, with a voice that didn’t belong to me.

Too feral.

Too lethal.

“Nauriel!” Mother exclaimed, surprised by my reaction, her gaze darting from me to Amlach before meeting the king’s gloomy stare.

I ignored my parents’ concern and my brother’s disdain and turned back to Amlach, grabbing him by his leather belt in a fit of desperation.

“ Please,” I whispered vehemently, batting my lashes in an attempt to ward off tears.

A muscle in his cheek twitched as he clenched his jaw tightly. He looked so deeply into my eyes that I felt him slither into my mind.

“I have seen my subjects choose a life of slavery in Rubra and smile enthusiastically under its scarlet colors, grateful for its abundance,” he said stiffly, addressing my father but refusing to shift his attention away from me. As if I were the only thing that mattered. “Grateful that their children will never suffer hunger and thirst again.” He drew a significant breath and looked up at my father. “I accept your offer, King Erech.”

I let my head loll against my chest, my forehead almost brushing against his body, with a sigh of relief.

“And?” Father said, trying him.