AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The flower popped off.
Gasping, she clutched the flower bud in her hand and squeezed her eyes shut, willing her diadem to go back to normal. When she opened her eyes, it was once again a crest of diamonds, though there was an almost imperceptible gap where one of the diamonds had been. She opened her hand to see that the flower bud was still in her palm.
Maewyn returned before Cera could figure out how to hide her indiscretion. Sheepishly, she held out the flower bud and searched her mind for an excuse.
"What is this?" Maewyn asked, plucking it from her hand. She sounded more confused than reproachful. "Did the breeze carry it in? How strange. They can’t usually blossom here.”
She set it aside on the vanity and began dabbing Cera with a floral-scented oil. Cera stared at the flower until her eyes began to water. Then, she closed her eyes and opened them once more.
On the vanity, the diamond glittered.
The Egg
Reaching the grand hall required another walk through the gardens. The sun had already disappeared behind the walls of the citadel, leaving traces of purple and red across the cloud-streaked sky. Tall lanterns dotted their path, their glow seeming to increase as the light from the sky faded.
As night fell, the sounds around Cera changed. The songbirds that had accompanied their morning meal had retired, giving way to creatures that made whooping and chattering sounds in the darkness. It was enough to keep her on edge, even as they progressed along a well-lit path.
Once they had been walking for some time, they began to pass small buildings nestled in clearings. Some were dark, others lit by the soft glow of candlelight. Not long after, the path ahead opened up, giving way to a wide expanse of grassy hills that were fringed on all sides by woodlands.
At the base of the hills was a wide pond. Its surface was already reflecting the pale sliver of waxing moonlight, the glassy image rippling as a pair of swans glided across the water.
On the topmost hill was a large building, the sort for which Cera had no name. It was long, rather than wide, and in place of walls, there were only ornate columns. The inside was brightly lit, and she could see people seated at a long table. The sound of a string instrument drifted down the hillside, along with the hum of many voices speaking at once.
"The grand hall?" Cera asked.
"Yes. It is where distinguished denizens of the citadel gather to take dinner with the lord. It is a great honor to be invited to such a meal," Maewyn said as they made their way up the hillside. "The table will be full tonight. Everyone will have come to see you."
Although she was accustomed to such fanfare surrounding her existence, Maewyn's remark did stir a touch of apprehension in her. She knew how to navigate a sea of gawking humans, but she was not keen on holding the attention of elves. What if one tried to magic her? And didn't legends say that some elves could read minds? Heavens, but she hoped that was only a myth.
She kept her focus on the cool night air to keep from sweating as they approached the building. The cobblestone walkway gave way to marble steps, on which her soft slippers made no sound. During the ascent, she almost managed to convince herself that she could slip into her seat unnoticed, blending in among the sea of other elves.
As soon as they reached the top, this notion was dispelled. The music carried on, but a hush fell over the crowded table. Cera continued to put one foot in front of the other as Maewyn guided her forward, and she tried not to focus on the chorus of whispers that began to spread.
A quick glance across the room was all she needed to spot the high lord. It was not just that he was situated at the position of honor at the high end of the table. It was also that he was the most familiar to her, her eyes already knowing how to find his silver hair and pale garb.
She had not meant to catch his attention, but it seemed she already had it. Their eyes locked, and once they did, she couldn't bring herself to look away. He was garbed in robes of white and silver, a silver crown resting on his head. It was not the gaudy, fussy sort that her father wore, but a simple band of interlocking antlers. Her gut clenched with the realization that it was the same crown he'd worn the first time they'd met, a decade earlier.
Isael rose from his seat gracefully, as if lifted by the wind. Wordlessly, he gestured to the seat directly next to him, which she only now noticed to be empty.
Her plan to put one foot in front of the other hit a snag when Maewyn abruptly stopped. Cera barely managed not to walk straight into her and had to awkwardly teeter on her heel before righting herself. Head down, Maewyn reversed course, leading Cera in the opposite direction, toward Isael.
Moving close to Maewyn and keeping her voice as quiet as possible, Cera asked, "Do I still try not to speak to him?"
It was a strange question, given that she'd spoken to him freely just that morning. But Cera recognized that this was a different setting. They would not be alone or accompanied only by his family. Now, the eyes of his court would be on him and Cera would be expected to show him deference, rather than familiarity.
Maewyn's reply was clipped, and she didn't make quite the same effort to lower her voice. "I would not know."
As Cera reached the end of the table, Isael was still standing and somehow he seemed taller and larger than he had that morning. He pulled out the chair beside him, giving her just enough space to maneuver. Then, he extended his hand to her.
Her hand slipped easily into his. His was warm and far softer than any man's hand she'd yet held. Still, it was decidedly unfeminine, both in its size and firmness. Gently, he guided her down into the chair. Once she was seated, he pushed her chair in and reclaimed his seat beside her.
Without thinking, Cera looked straight ahead. Down the long table, dozens of heads were turned in her direction, with twice as many eyes seeming to be fixed on her. She was tempted to smile at them, something she'd done in her former life. The gesture had always served to humanized her to her father's guests, who would subsequently begin treating her like a person, rather than object to be ogled at.
This was different, though. Here, she was making her first impression on a court of elves. Smiling would make her seem open and kind, but also eager to please and be liked, therefore weak and vulnerable. That impression might have been her best strategy, had she been at the other end of the table, but not next to Isael. He had not just given her a place near to him, but she was seated directly beside him. Although she was by no means his equal, she was clearly meant to comport herself as such.
She remained calm and collected as she looked out over the crowd, returning their stares with a mild look of her own, signaling to them that their attention did not unnerve her. Then, she turned to regard Isael, and was almost thrown out of balance by the decidedlynot mildlook he was giving her.
He was looking at her the same way he'd looked at her that morning, when she'd first woke.
