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A painful smile tugged at his lips. “I see why you would think that. But I assure you, my intentions are pure. I care about the people and I want to help them. But I also know that we need strong leadership to guide us through these difficult times.”
Did he finally acknowledge the unrest in Manzimor? The unrest his House had caused?
“And that’s why I’m focused on the Mentom and the Aeglire. They’re the ones who can help us achieve our goals.”
“And what are these goals?” I asked. “What is it you want to achieve?”
“I want to unite the Elvish Houses,” he said. “I want to create a strong Elvish Nation that can withstand anything.”
Disappointed, I closed my eyes. He called me shortsighted, but so was he in his way. “Manzimor is not an Elvish nation. Humans, Dryads, Naga and Halflings are all part of Manzimor. The focus on the Elves beyond the needs of the other races led to war. You’re just repeating the mistakes of the past.”
The Werewolves claimed they attacked because the Elves oppressed us. And they had a point. The Elves tried to control us. Their fingers were in everything. They were the ones who created the system that divided us. And they were the ones who started the war because of their apathy.
The Elves claimed the Werewolves tried to conquer them. And they also had a point. The Werewolves wanted to conquer them. Freedom for the Werewolves meant the Elves would not have the same influence in the region as they did now. Two nations with different goals. It was a recipe for disaster.
“I’m not repeating the mistakes of the past.” He shook his head. “I’m learning from them. And I won’t make the same mistakes.”
“I don’t see it,” I said apathetically. He opened his mouth to refute me, but I raised my hand. “Please, consider my words. I considered your words as well.”
I didn’t want to talk about this topic anymore. My words made it clear what I thought about his focus on the Elves. And his words made it clear what he thought about my focus on the common people. We were at an impasse.
“You broke your promises to me,” I said, changing the subject. “You said you would never use me as a pawn in your political games. That I would be your equal. But your manipulations were easy to see through. You tried to use me to further your agenda.”
He frowned. “When did I manipulate you? I swear on my magic, I have never tried to control you.”
A bounding oath. If he broke it, his magic would desert him. He could never use magic again. It was a powerful oath. And he seemed sincere.
His eyes met mine, and I saw the sincerity. I realized I had been wrong. He never consciously tried to manipulate me. I only saw what I wanted to see because I was afraid of being used. But unconsciously, he did. Growing up in the Aeglire shaped him. I needed to be aware of that distinction. Manipulating people was a way of life for them. It was how they got what they wanted.
“Okay,” I relented. “I see that now. I didn’t mean to accuse you of something you didn’t do.”
He nodded his head thoughtfully. “But you still felt like I did something wrong. Why did you think that?”
“The way you touched and looked at me. It was... possessive.” I shrugged, not wanting to put into words how it made me feel. “I thought you were using me. It made me feel like I was nothing more than a tool to you. A means to an end.”
And your possessiveness terrified me. That was the heart of it. I was afraid of being possessed. Afraid of being controlled. Giving myself to him completely and becoming his would mean losing myself. But I couldn’t tell him that. It would be so easy for him to use that against me.
“I was only trying to act like a Midarian husband.”
Was that his way to close the distance between us? By implementing the customs that were not his own and failing at them? I wanted to laugh, but the sadness was so great that I couldn’t muster up the energy.
“You’re not Midarian.”
“And you are not an Elf.” He sipped on his tea and I did the same. The bitter tea turned cold. “That doesn’t mean I can’t learn about your customs and integrate them into my own life. My future wife is a Midarian. Have you not implemented Elvish culture into your own life since your arrival?” His eyes lingered on my ears. On the ear cuffs, I wore.
Yes, I had. My role demanded it of me. If I wanted to be the bridge between our two peoples, I needed to learn about both cultures and integrate them into my own life. But that he would do the same for me... it was touching. And I softened towards him. He wasn’t trying to seduce me; he was just trying to be considerate. Considerate of my culture and my feelings.
I remembered the hearth caster ritual I performed when I arrived in the Aeglire. Magic saw hope in this situation. Who would I be to disagree? He was manipulative by nature, but there was still hope. Hope for something more. No war could be won without sacrifice. And I will sacrifice myself for the greater good.
“Thank you for understanding,” I said. “It means a lot to me.”
He nodded solemnly, his eyes never leaving mine. “Your reluctance to trust me, it’s understandable. You’ve been through a lot lately. And I know it hasn’t been easy for you.”
It hadn’t been easy. All the rules I had to learn. The expectations. The customs. It was a lot to take in. And I was grieving. Grieving for the life I left behind and grieving for the one I could have had. But I needed to be level headed. I couldn’t let my emotions impede what needed to be done.
A mirthless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “But it hasn’t been easy for me either.”
My hand reached out and covered his. I squeezed gently, offering what little comfort I could. “I know.”
