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I didn’t understand how an Elf could conjure such a feat. “Calen cursed the land?”
“No. Curses are the stories of men who fear us, Keera,” Feron said, his eyes flicking to me. “They do not exist. Blood oaths, however, are a powerful form of magic.” I froze, my spoon suspended halfway to my mouth, as I waited for him to explain.
“The Rift burst over five millennia ago, at a time when my people were fighting creatures much too terrifying to have a name in Aemon’s Tongue. We dispatched an army to end the horror. I was one of the soldiers, as were Calen and Laurdril. Both were Elves, only a few centuries old, and caught up in the throes of young love.” Feron smirked as he sipped his wine again.
“The night before the raid, Calen soothed Laurdril’s nerves by making a blood oath. He pricked his finger and placed the blood along his lover’s brow promising that he would never let a creature hurt him. The next day, the creatures surrounded us. Smog brewed from their nostrils, blinding us. We fought them off for hours, Calen taking more than any other. He tore into their flesh with his ax until nothing but dark, scaled bodies lay beside him.
“In a moment of triumph, he put down his ax to embrace his lover. At that same moment, one of the creatures pierced Laurdril’s back with its tail and he fell to the ground. Calen fell beside his lover, holding him as Laurdril took his last breath. I watched as the magic tried to claim Calen for breaking his oath, but he fought it. Roots tore from the ground, wrapping around his legs, but he cut them back with his ax. Anything to stay by his lover’s side.” I leaned forward as Feron stared at the grain of the table.
“Eventually, the magic shook the ground so violently it split, and both Calen and Laurdril fell into its depths. Together even in death.” Feron finished his wine. I was spared having to follow his tale by the loud groan of the wood doors opening. The entire table gasped at the transformation of the ballroom. There were no longer any chairs or tall tables, and the center of the room held a large platform. Thousands of faelights filled the room, casting vibrant colors along the walls and floor. Feron stood, leading the party into the ballroom. I followed at the edge of the crowd, anchoring myself to a spot along the wall.
My eyes caught sight of a tall Fae at the bottom of the staircase I’d come down earlier. He was dressed in a long black tunic, tied at his waist with a bronze belt and Elvish dagger. It was the same Fae that I had run into earlier. His violet eyes locked with mine as he stalked across the room.
Feron materialized at my side. “Keera, this is my nephew, Riventh Numenthira.”
“Riven,” the Fae said with a sidelong gaze to Feron.
“Nephew?” I asked. I didn’t know Feron to have any living kin.
“In the sense that all the Fae are related,” Riven said with a bow. I rolled my eyes. The pleasantries were moot after what he’d said in the hall.
Riven’s jaw pulsed. “It’s a pleasure to meet the Blade,” he added, taking my hand and giving it a small kiss. I ripped my hand away. His eyes were as dark as nightshade as he looked up at me. I caught a glimpse of his fangs as he pulled his lips back into a tight smile.
He turned to face Feron. “I need to speak with you.”
Feron studied his nephew for a moment and nodded.
“Let me find someone to entertain Keera while we talk,” Feron said, gently patting my shoulder.
I flinched. “That’s not necessary—”
“Nikolai!” Feron called to someone across the room. Nikolai ended his conversation with the pretty Halfling he was speaking to and sauntered over to where we were standing.
“Feron.” He bowed with a dramatic flourish of his hand. He wore a striking robe of scarlet with no weapon that I could see. It complemented the rich bronze of his skin and the tight curls that blended with the shadow along his cheek. I couldn’t help noticing the rough cut along his ears, they’d been stitched round. He was a Halfling.
Nikolai gave me a brilliant smile so wide a line appeared across his brow.
“Keera, the guest of honor!” he cooed, leaning in to kiss my neck in greeting like the lords of the kingdom. When he stood straight again, he gave me a wink. His forwardness was shocking, but I couldn’t help but smile.
“Nikolai, do not scare her,” Feron cut in. “I need you to entertain Keera while Riven and I speak in my chambers.”
“Of course!” Nikolai said, exchanging a look with Riven. “You don’t have to convince me to befriend such a marvelous creature.” Feron gave Nikolai a small smile. Riven crossed his arms. The nephew didn’t have his uncle’s charm.
Nikolai grabbed my hands and stretched out his arms. His eyes scanned my body starting at the edge of my skirt and rising slowly. He paused over the deep cut of my bodice, before eventually meeting my gaze. “You really are breathtaking,” he said, pulling me closer to him. “I’ve been lusting after you since I watched you walk down that staircase. Iadorea dramatic entrance.”
My mouth fell open. “That’s a bold claim to make for someone not wearing a weapon,” I said, only half joking.
Nikolai shrugged and gave me a devilish grin. “I haveotherweapons at my disposal. Some I find to be much more effective.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure.”
“I can think of one in particular...” His eyes looked downward.
I scoffed and motioned to slap his shoulder, but he caught my hand. The music started, and he wrapped his other arm around my waist, leading us into a slow waltz. He couldn’t have timed it better if he’d planned it.
“Are you always this irritating?” I asked.
He broke out his wide grin again. “I think you mean charming.”
