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The Fae had known I was here the moment I’d arrived in Aralinth. Perhaps the moment I’d arrived in the Faeland. Why was I not surrounded by guards bringing me to the palace? I had broken the treaty coming into their lands without permission. The king’s protection only went so far. If they wanted to kill me, there was no one to stop them. No one would come to avenge my death either.
My eyes scanned the rest of the page, it shook in my hands.
It was an invitation.
Lord Feron invites you to dine at Sil’abar.
I was to arrive at the palace the next day dressed for a ball. Lord Feron had thwarted my plan to stay hidden with the stroke of a pen.
I could no longer hide from the Dark Fae; I would have to dance with them instead.
Since my arrival in Aralinth was no longer a secret, I didn’t see the point in staying at the small inn. Not that the innkeeper would have let me. She didn’t come back out of the kitchen to collect her coin for the meal. I left it on the table instead.
If the Dark Fae knew I was in town, I might as well rent the most luxurious suite available.
The inn was tucked beside a lavish garden at the center of the city. I chose it for the gilded balconies that had a direct view to Sil’abar, the tree palace. The inn had an Old Elvish name I didn’t know how to read let alone pronounce, but I sauntered through the front entryway and tossed a heavy bag of gold on the counter.
The servant behind the desk flinched, staring at the pouch. I noticed the blunt curve of his ear. The stitching was bumpy and uneven. A botched attempt at curbing the Halfling’s ears. So the Fae were hiding Halflings in their lands as well.
My eyes lingered over his tall frame and blond hair. His back was straight. The skin at his neck and wrists was unmarked. No scars from beatings or restraints.
I rented the suite on the top floor. It had a long balcony that stretched across the entire front of the building. If the Fae wanted to watch me, I would watch them too. A lush bouquet of dew roses sat on the table in the sitting room. I picked out one of the flowers and inhaled its fresh scent as the Halfling placed my bags in the bedroom.
“How long have you been in the Faeland?” I asked him, twirling the flower under my nose.
He stiffened. I could hear his breath stop.
“I’m not going to report you,” I said, scenting his panic. “I don’t care. I just want to know if you came here willingly or if you were forced into these lands.” I tucked the flower behind my ear and leaned on the table.
He jerked his head. “You think Lord Feron shackles Halflings like the king?”
I gripped the edge of the table, drumming my fingers along the thick wood. “I take it from your answer that he does not.”
“No,” he said, walking toward the door. I thought that was all he would say but his hand hovered over the handle. “Lord Feron treats all Halflings with respect. We’re not servants here.”
“AllHalflings?” I said, raising a brow. How many had taken refuge in the Faeland?
He smirked to one side. “Welcome to Aralinth,” he said, closing the large door behind him.
I went out in search of a tailor. Since my plan had rested on staying out of sight from the Fae, I had not brought anything fine enough to dine with Lord Feron. I stalked the streets in my familiar black garb.
The main business district was west of the palace, a few streets over from my inn. The laneways were full of people, but they parted quickly as I walked between the rows of shops. Everyone stopped to stare at the black hood and cloak. Some pointed at the silver fastener and whispered into their neighbor’s ear.
Despite the caution, no one barred me from entering any establishment. I perused a large apothecary where herbs hung from the windows as elixirs brewed over the hearth. I showed the owner the contents of the elixir Hildegard had given me. She gasped as she placed the vial in her hand, holding it like the slightest touch might break it.
“I have a vial or two,” she said in Elvish. “Though it will cost you.”
I pulled my bag forward, ready to pay whatever she needed. I left the shop lighter than before, the second vial ofwinvraelixir safely tucked into my pocket.
The shops reminded me of Cereliath. Each one was connected in a row, carved out of a giant gray stone that lined the street. Its twin stood on the other side, housing another row of shops. I assumed the roofs were made of stone as well, but I couldn’t tell. The canopy of blooms that hung along the streets continued inside. Long vines twisted along the walls, flowers sprouting wherever sunlight touched the stone.
Aralinth was called the city of roses. Its magic held the land in a perpetual spring. The flowers had millennia to sprawl across the city, their blooms never withered.
The third shop I visited was a tailor. I eyed the beautiful robes in the window. Gowns of fine silk and rich colors hung on mannequins made from petals. The skirts were long layers of sheer fabric that turned into tight twists along the bodice in the shape of leaves or waves. Sheer sleeves cascaded from their beaded necklines, so long they almost skimmed the floor.
I bit my lip. Neither would hide my scars.
It was hard to dress as an assassin. Not only did I need to hide the names written on my skin, but the dress had to conceal at least three weapons and still look fantastic. I had already been caught off guard by Lord Feron; I was not going to show up outdressed.
