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I rubbed my forehead. Twilight elf magic diverged from light elf and shadow elf magic. It manifested in the ability to read others’ thoughts to varying degrees ranging from the sensing of strong emotions all the way up to telepathy, depending on the species of the target and the strength of the elf’s magic.
“I will see the twilight elf first. While I am gone, can you sort through the court petitions? I need to know who we invited before and who was excluded and why.” By the time I finished with the visitors, I suspected I wouldn’t be capable of recalling those details. An invitation to the wrong person could mean navigating political issues at every event. Something I wished to avoid, especially while introducing my new queen to the court.
Striding through my study door, I purposefully walked the conventional way to my meetings. As a shadow elf, I tended to be intimidating to most species beyond our own. As the king, I needed to undermine that factor, at least when it wasn’t needed, so I could use it to great effect if it was required. That meant not flashing my magical abilities by wraithwalking.
As I approached the Velvet Room, one of my attendants rushed to open the door ahead of me and announce my arrival. “Emrys Iston, King of Eldarlan and Emperor of the Shadow Lands,” the man proclaimed loudly as I crossed the threshold.
My guest turned away from the window overlooking the orchards and frowned at me. Tall and lean, like most elves, his slender features were further elongated by his sour expression. Where my skin was dark and copper-toned, his had undertones of gray. His sleek silver hair brushed his collarbones. Attending him was a small contingent of dryads and a halfling. They guarded a stack of boxes.
With overt reluctance, the twilight elf offered me the barest of bows. “Thank you, Your Majesty, for honoring me with an audience. I am Hubrion, First Emissary of Her Royal Highness, Queen Elszel of the Solhelm.”
“Greetings, Hubrion.” I offered my formal salutation in the manner of elven kings, an intricate gesture involving contorted fingers and an elegant outflinging of the wrist. I had learned it as a child after hours of drilling, and now as an adult, it was rarely required of me except during court functions. I mentally added it to the list of the many things I needed to teach Kate before her presentation to the court.
“The queen extends her congratulations on your freedom from the curse and wishes to extend a gesture of goodwill.” With an stylish wave, he motioned toward his attendants. The dryads carried a pearl-surfaced box with gilded corners into the center of the room and set it on the rug. The halfling then began unlatching the lid.
Memories of how I had been cursed jumped to mind. The magus’ minion had handed me a magic globe during a routine meeting. The curse within had initiated at my touch. Instinctively, I began gathering magic, and the corners of the room darkened. “What is it?” I asked, putting great effort into keeping my voice steady and neutral.
The emissary frowned at me, probably because I was giving off heightened tension.
“A goodwill gift.” His haughty tone clearly indicated his scorn, but I didn’t care.
Just then, the last latch released, and the halfling lifted the lid with a flourish. “A Grimm pup,” he announced in a low, rumbly voice. “Just weaned and not old enough to open her eyes. She is prime for bonding.”
At the sight of the pup, a tiny ball of silken black fur nestled in the center of the box, I released some of my gathered magic. Such a rare gift could only be one of friendship.
“She is one of the eighth litter born of the queen’s own favorite companion, the Mighty Maldora, Royal Grimm.” The halfling glared at me. “You going to pick her up, or am I going to need my gloves?”
I glanced at him in confusion.
He sighed heavily. “No one can touch her until her intended master. If it is you, she will open her eyes.”
“I will pick her up.” Releasing the rest of my magic, I reached down into the box and scooped the tiny black bundle humming with potential. She stirred, filling my hands with her fluttering heart rate, warm, comforting magic, and soft fur. Lifting her sleek head, she sniffed my hand, licking it once with her rough pink tongue. She was sweet, adorable, and endearing, but no zing of connection resulted in my touch.
“How disappointing,” the emissary muttered. “Perhaps she will accept you in time. There have been tales of the connection taking time.”
The halfling muttered, “Balderdash,” under his breath.
The pup in my hands squirmed. Adjusting my grip, I drew her close, tucking her into the flap of my tunic front. She mewed softly and burrowed against me, reminding me of Kate. Both of them had spent all of their lives with little affection. In the pup’s case, not even touch. My heart ached for the tiny creature.
The emissary continued speaking as though I were giving him his full attention. However, the slight note of scorn in his voice betrayed his true feelings about my attentions to the pup. “My queen has hopes we can strengthen our relations, especially in this time of chaos and difficulty, by extending ambassadorial privileges to each other.”
“I would be open to a proposal.” Strong allies were usually a benefit even if their representatives were annoying like this man.
Hubrion cleared his throat. “Her Majesty expressed her wishes that I negotiate an arrangement. However, I have one concern.”
“Yes?” The pup wiggled against my ribs. Adjusting her location so the crook of my elbow supported her, I wasn’t paying the closest attention to the elf.
“The human—I can sense that it is near. Such chaotic thoughts.” He grimaced.
I stilled, and so did the pup. “What?”
“You have a human here. And it is in pain.”
“My wife?”
The emissary stiffened. “I beg pardon?”
“Weren’t you aware of the parameters of the curse?” We had reached out to the Solhelm queen for advice when the curse first took hold. I had assumed her representative would be informed. “In order to be freed, I had to marry a human princess.”
