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“I took a solemn vow as your Second and it’s one I intend to keep. A vow to always have your back, to always give you my honest opinion, and to always be here for you.”
A lump formed in my throat, and I had to swallow before I could speak. “Thank you, Darith.”
I turned my attention back to the mirror, my dark hair cascading over my shoulders. My dark eyes looked back at me, and I saw the same determination that I saw in Darith’s.
“Why did you?”
She placed her hand on my shoulder. “Because I believe in you.”
I glanced away. “You didn’t know me.”
“No, but I saw the cracks in Manzimor and the Eternal Court,” she said with conviction. “The Eternal Court has stagnated. I saw an opportunity, and I grabbed it. And you have proven to be true to all I hoped.”
A revolutionary? I didn’t expect that from Darith. I knew she was ambitious, but I thought within the confines of the Eternal Court. Most Elves saw nothing wrong with the way things were. The rich ones. They benefitted from the status quo.
“Thank you, Darith. For everything.”
She smiled at me in the mirror and squeezed my shoulder before standing up. “I grew up in Midar.”
My head turned sharply to look at her. “You said you were born and raised in Rossertham?”
She grabbed a comb and the pearl strings on my vanity. “I was. But my mother is from Midar. A Dryad from the redwoods. I spent seasons with her family in Setif during my childhood.”
Half-elves were rare. Elves rarely married outside of their race, and especially not to mortal species. The tales of such unions were always tragic. The elves outlived their partners by millennia. They would sing about my marriage to an elf in the same way. A political alliance with benefits, but one that would be unfulfilled in the long run.
I could already imagine the poets.
Their union can be seen as a flower,
Beautiful and blooming for a time,
But eventually, the petals will fall and it will die,
Age ripping it away from the vine.
I turned back to the mirror and met Darith’s eyes in the reflection. “Thank you for telling me.”
She put the pearls in my hair. “I’ve not been to Midar in millennia. Not since my mother died. But I know the people and I know their values. The Eternal Court needs that to survive. As we need the influence of the Naga and the Halflings. Manzimor can only flourish if all of us are united.”
Manzimor was its people. All its people. Not just the Elves. I placed my hand on her arm and squeezed it gently. “I agree.”
She smiled at me in the mirror. “Prince Maedras is a prince. He can’t see further than the Eternal Court. He’s unreasonable and judgemental to you. A Midarian wife is not an Elvish wife.”
A slow smile spread across my face. “He has been fair to me,” I said softly.
She stopped what she was doing and looked at me in the mirror. “What?”
I turned to face her. “He has been fair to me. I think he wants what is best for Manzimor just as much as we do. He’s just… blinded by his love for the Aeglire and the Mentom.”
Offended was too soft a word for Darith’s expression. “No, he hasn’t. Do you know when Queen Laylath started her first project? Twenty years after she married the king.” She placed my comb on the vanity. “Prince Aldaren did it fifteen years later, as he was a noble and was more familiar with the Eternal Court. You’ve been here for a few months and are not married yet.”
“That’s not what I meant. But thank you, your words bring me great comfort. He tried.” I sighed. “But the issue is cultural miscommunication.”
She cocked her head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“We both tried. Not only tried to understand each other but also our roles. But culturally speaking, there was a mishap.” I explained. “We are from different cultures and have different values. The way we were raised, the different aspects of our culture and class. They all play a role in how we see things.”
It didn’t mean I wasn’t angry at him, or that I had forgiven him. But it meant that I saw where he was coming from a bit more. Our upbringings were different, but that didn’t mean our dreams for Manzimor were.
