Page 111
Story: The Arrow and the Alder
Salt of sorrow.
Endure the fire.
Surrender light borrowed.
It hadn’t made sense to Seph then, and it certainly didn’t make sense to her now, but many of those words were listed in the ones Priestess Nistarra had just mentioned. Seph felt the urge to know all the rest.
“Priestess Nistarra, how long would it take you to translate each character on a sheet for me?” Seph asked.
The priestess blinked and glanced down at the coat. “I may be able to have it to you by later this evening. At least, the ones I can translate.”
“This doesn’t seem like a good use of our time,” Celia said. “Tyrin has a few ideas that?—”
The doors slammed open again, and this time Alder strode through, followed by Evora and, to Seph’s surprise, Serinbor.
Saints, Alder looked devastating this morning in his fitted blacks and his forest-green overcoat that clasped over his broad chest. A sword fell from his waist, and his elegant black bow hung over his shoulders. His hair was swept back, his features were sharp and strong and thoroughly aristocratic, and his eyes pierced like a freshly honed blade.
Seph’s breath lodged in her chest, and when those steely grays found her, her heart constricted. The memory of last night set her soul aflame, but his expression remained cool and distant. He turned his gaze from Seph to the others, and he stopped a few paces away.
Seph’s heart was a percussion against her ribs, and she hoped the elders couldn’t hear it.
“I came to say goodbye.” Alder’s commanding voice filled the hall.
Seph jerked internally. She hadn’t realized Alder was embarking on his mission so soon, and her spirits sank at the prospect.
“Excellent,” Tyrin replied. “Is there anything else you require before you leave us, Prince Alder?”
“The Fates’ good favor,” Alder replied, with a sardonic twist to his lips—lips Seph had kissed last night. Passionately. “I expect to return within a fortnight.”
“And if you do not?” Seph asked.
Her voice echoed sharply through the chamber, and Alder looked at her a second later. They all did, and Seph sensed a sudden shift in the balance, a scale tipped to her hand, as if they were all swiftly reminded of who and what she was: Abecka’s heir. Seph also suspected that this was why Alder showed no evidence of last night upon his face, especially before Celia. His gaze remained cool and unreadable, and even if it was an affectation, Seph didn’t like it one bit.
“Iwill, Your Highness,” Alder said with both formality and finality. “But in the unlikely event that I do not, you may defer to Serinbor on how best to proceed.” He gestured at Serinbor, who stood with his chin tipped skyward. “Evora will be staying behind as well, as an added measure of protection.”
SerinborandEvora were staying behind? “They’re not going with you?”
It was Priestess Nistarra who said, “We thought it best that Prince Alder leave behind representatives we know and trust.”
“But what about Al—Prince Alder’s safety?” Seph asked.
“I will be fine, Highness.” Alder’s eyes warned her off from pressing more, from showing her growing concern for him.
Seph did not like this, not at all. She also didn’t understand why he’d chosen Serinbor as a representative. Then again, maybe he hadn’t. Serinbor had been a citizen of Velentis well before Alder and Seph had arrived; it could’ve been the elders’ decision, so perhaps that was why Alder was also leaving Evora.
“So unless you have need of anything else, I will take my leave,” Alder said to the council.
“You have our blessing, Prince Alder, and we will implore the Fates for your safe and profitable return,” Tyrin said. “Please give our regards to Lord Hammerfell.”
“I will, and I thank you, Tyrin.” He inclined his head. “Priestess. Elders.” He glanced at Seph. “Your Highness.” He started to turn.
Seph could not say goodbye like this, diplomacy be damned. “Wait.”
Alder stopped in his tracks, and she was very aware of everyone watching her now.
“I would like a word with Prince Alder,” she said with a strength in her voice that did not reflect the nerves humming through her body. “In private.”
She might have just scandalized herself, but she didn’t care. He was leaving and he might never come back, and it would be a happy day in Harran before she let him go on these terms.
Endure the fire.
Surrender light borrowed.
It hadn’t made sense to Seph then, and it certainly didn’t make sense to her now, but many of those words were listed in the ones Priestess Nistarra had just mentioned. Seph felt the urge to know all the rest.
“Priestess Nistarra, how long would it take you to translate each character on a sheet for me?” Seph asked.
The priestess blinked and glanced down at the coat. “I may be able to have it to you by later this evening. At least, the ones I can translate.”
“This doesn’t seem like a good use of our time,” Celia said. “Tyrin has a few ideas that?—”
The doors slammed open again, and this time Alder strode through, followed by Evora and, to Seph’s surprise, Serinbor.
Saints, Alder looked devastating this morning in his fitted blacks and his forest-green overcoat that clasped over his broad chest. A sword fell from his waist, and his elegant black bow hung over his shoulders. His hair was swept back, his features were sharp and strong and thoroughly aristocratic, and his eyes pierced like a freshly honed blade.
Seph’s breath lodged in her chest, and when those steely grays found her, her heart constricted. The memory of last night set her soul aflame, but his expression remained cool and distant. He turned his gaze from Seph to the others, and he stopped a few paces away.
Seph’s heart was a percussion against her ribs, and she hoped the elders couldn’t hear it.
“I came to say goodbye.” Alder’s commanding voice filled the hall.
Seph jerked internally. She hadn’t realized Alder was embarking on his mission so soon, and her spirits sank at the prospect.
“Excellent,” Tyrin replied. “Is there anything else you require before you leave us, Prince Alder?”
“The Fates’ good favor,” Alder replied, with a sardonic twist to his lips—lips Seph had kissed last night. Passionately. “I expect to return within a fortnight.”
“And if you do not?” Seph asked.
Her voice echoed sharply through the chamber, and Alder looked at her a second later. They all did, and Seph sensed a sudden shift in the balance, a scale tipped to her hand, as if they were all swiftly reminded of who and what she was: Abecka’s heir. Seph also suspected that this was why Alder showed no evidence of last night upon his face, especially before Celia. His gaze remained cool and unreadable, and even if it was an affectation, Seph didn’t like it one bit.
“Iwill, Your Highness,” Alder said with both formality and finality. “But in the unlikely event that I do not, you may defer to Serinbor on how best to proceed.” He gestured at Serinbor, who stood with his chin tipped skyward. “Evora will be staying behind as well, as an added measure of protection.”
SerinborandEvora were staying behind? “They’re not going with you?”
It was Priestess Nistarra who said, “We thought it best that Prince Alder leave behind representatives we know and trust.”
“But what about Al—Prince Alder’s safety?” Seph asked.
“I will be fine, Highness.” Alder’s eyes warned her off from pressing more, from showing her growing concern for him.
Seph did not like this, not at all. She also didn’t understand why he’d chosen Serinbor as a representative. Then again, maybe he hadn’t. Serinbor had been a citizen of Velentis well before Alder and Seph had arrived; it could’ve been the elders’ decision, so perhaps that was why Alder was also leaving Evora.
“So unless you have need of anything else, I will take my leave,” Alder said to the council.
“You have our blessing, Prince Alder, and we will implore the Fates for your safe and profitable return,” Tyrin said. “Please give our regards to Lord Hammerfell.”
“I will, and I thank you, Tyrin.” He inclined his head. “Priestess. Elders.” He glanced at Seph. “Your Highness.” He started to turn.
Seph could not say goodbye like this, diplomacy be damned. “Wait.”
Alder stopped in his tracks, and she was very aware of everyone watching her now.
“I would like a word with Prince Alder,” she said with a strength in her voice that did not reflect the nerves humming through her body. “In private.”
She might have just scandalized herself, but she didn’t care. He was leaving and he might never come back, and it would be a happy day in Harran before she let him go on these terms.
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