Page 11

TRISTAN

My thoughts remain on Amelia as I conduct further meetings with my commanders and make the final preparations for tomorrow’s departure. I long to return to the tent and take her in my arms. I long to remain in her presence until I’m finally able to figure out why I’m so drawn to her.

How does one know when they’ve met their one true fated mate? How can I be so uncertain about Amelia? Either she is my mate, or she’s not.

Many fae visit a high priestess during their youth to learn the identity of the mate the gods have marked for them, but such visits rarely yield definite results. Most often, the priestesses can only provide a first name or offer a clue about when and where they will encounter their fated mate.

Unfortunately, when my foster father, Lord Linnshire, brought me to a high priestess to learn the identity of my fated mate, the priestess simply looked at me and said, “Tristan Dalgaard, your fated mate will find you when the time is right.”

That’s it. That’s the only clue she gave me. Even Lord Linnshire’s son, my childhood friend Kaiden, received more guidance from the high priestess concerning his fated mate, though he didn’t get a name, nor was he informed that his female would be part-human.

A growl vibrates from my chest as I head for the outskirts of the camp, searching for Commander Klemat.

Armed soldiers rush by but give me a wide, respectful berth, likely on their way for a shift patrolling the streets of Glenville.

Not that there’s much left to patrol. In our fury over the deaths of twelve faefolk in the new settlement of Valltea, we’d left few survivors.

At last, I find Commander Klemat conducting a training exercise with the contingent he leads. Once he notices me standing along the tree line, he passes control to his first officer and heads in my direction.

“General Dalgaard.” He gives me a brief nod. “Do you have new orders for me?” His tone is deferential but not as overly eager as many of the other commanders.

“Yes, several, actually.” I straighten, glance around the clearing where his soldiers are continuing their training exercises, then return my gaze to him as I contemplate his trustworthiness.

He’s only served with the Summer Court army for six decades, a much shorter time than the other commanders, yet I believe he’s proven his competence.

“First, I must appoint a Warden to remain in Glenville indefinitely, as is our custom when a town or city is conquered, but I’m hesitant to appoint a highborn warden for a town as small as this one.

Your soldiers are among the fiercest in our army.

I would like you to select a soldier from your contingent, someone you feel would be happy staying in the north, to become Warden of Glenville. ”

“Consider it done.” Commander Klemat studies the soldiers as they spar in the clearing.

His gaze eventually moves to his first officer, a male by the name of Reast. “Officer Reast likes the north, and several of his family members have settled in the Warrlish Mountains. Though I’m reluctant to part with him, I think he would be an excellent choice to remain in Glenville. ”

“Very good. I’ve already selected twenty soldiers from various contingents who will stay behind and help guard this area of the countryside.

” As I talk, I can’t help but wonder what Amelia is doing at this very moment.

Is the sweet human writing letters to her family?

Is she taking another nap? “The soldiers I selected all have ancestral ties to the Winter Court,” I continue, “and though most of those ties are practically ancient, it will help make any encounters with the Winter Court army more… cordial .”

A satisfied look crosses Commander Klemat’s face.

“A wise decision, General. Officer Reast also has ties to the Winter Court. His sister recently mated with a highborn lord from the Starlit region,” he says, referring to a group of northern isles that holds the most breathtaking views of the night sky, or so the stories say.

“I’m pleased to hear Officer Reast has ties to the Winter Court as well.

The wardens and soldiers we appoint to govern and guard the most northern, eastern, and western settlements will largely be political appointments going forward.

Fae who have ties to the nearest court, whether through distant ancestral relations or through marriage,” I say, and I can’t help but recall Amelia’s question about whether we’ve ever considered making a peace treaty with human and orc territories.

I’d claimed it wouldn’t be possible because the four fae courts would likely never come to an agreement, but perhaps it might work.

In time. If we keep positioning specific wardens and soldiers in strategic locations, a new kind of diplomacy might come into existence.

At least among the fae. I have my doubts that realm-wide peace that involves the cooperation of numerous human and orc territories could ever be achieved.

“You said you had several orders for me, General,” the commander says with an expectant look.

“Ah, yes, I do.” I issue the remaining orders, most of which involve tomorrow’s departure from Glenville and our first day of travel as we make our way south.

Once my business with Commander Klemat is complete, I head to the other side of the camp where the carriages are kept.

The carriages have been out of use for some time, though we always travel with them in case any fae royals or lords visit and prefer to travel in luxury.

Most of the royals and lords who visit, however, typically prefer to walk alongside the regular soldiers or help patrol the skies with the other highborn fae.

The carriage master approaches when he notices I’m inspecting the largest conveyance in the collection.

There’s a wary gleam in the elderly male’s eyes, and I can’t say I blame him.

During the three hundred plus years that I’ve been the general of the Summer Court army, this is the first time I’ve ever displayed any interest in the carriages.

“Good evening, General Dalgaard.” He removes his hat and stands tall, though he’s still about two heads shorter than me. “May I be of some assistance to you, sir?”

I study the male for a moment, wondering if his designing magic is as grand and opulent as I’ve heard.

It’s said he can transform the plainest room, or the interior of a carriage, into the most lavish of accommodations.

If Amelia is to spend four days on the road as the army marches south to Sorsston, I want her to travel in comfort and luxury.

“Yes, Master Nathanns,” I finally say, having finally remembered the male’s name, “I require an opulent carriage for my new war prize.”

His eyes flare ever so slightly, though he’s quick to don a neutral expression only a second later. No doubt he’s shocked that I’ve taken a war prize for the first time in history.

“Well, you have your eye on the nicest carriage in the collection, General, but I will be happy to work my magic until the carriage meets your specifications. What do you have in mind?”

“A comfortable sleeping area with lots of pillows and blankets,” I say, “as well as larger windows on each side. Don’t worry about warding them. I’ll do that myself once your work is finished.”

“A comfortable sleeping area,” he repeats with a nod. “Larger windows on each side. Consider it done. What else?”

“The interior should include a small garden filled with fresh blooming Summer Court flowers and multiple errgunna butterflies. I would also like a bathing area installed in a corner, complete with fragrant, running water. A well-stocked eating area too, filled with ussha-blessed fruits and vegetables, a variety of fresh bread and cheese, and a tray of candies that replenishes itself whenever a piece is taken.” I almost wonder if I’m making too many demands, particularly when it comes to the running water and the replenishable candy tray, but Master Nathanns doesn’t bat an eye, so I continue.

“Please also include a closet filled with fashionable dresses fit for a queen, matching slippers, fine jewelry, silk undergarments, and proper sleeping attire.”

“Again, consider it done, General. Anything else?” Despite the many demands I’ve made of him, his expression is serene, and I start to think perhaps he’s eager to get started. It’s said that fae with designing and building magic are always excited to exercise their skills and meet a challenge.

“I think that should cover it, but please feel free to make any additions that you think would make the carriage more pleasant for a human female.”

“What about books?” he says, surprising me.

“Does your war prize enjoy reading? If so, she might enjoy a selection of reading material to pass the time. Or, if she isn’t literate, as many humans aren’t, she might enjoy embroidery and sewing materials, or perhaps card and dice games.

If you could tell me more about her interests, that will help guide me in my creation. ”

Her interests? For a few seconds, all I can do is stare dumbly at Master Nathanns. I’m ashamed to admit that I don’t know whether Amelia can read, nor do I know if she enjoys cards or dice games or sewing.

Gods, I really don’t know much about her at all. Only that I’m drawn to her and I want nothing more than to spend time with her. If it weren’t for my responsibilities leading the Summer Court army, I would be at her side right fucking now.

I clear my throat. “Perhaps a small selection of books and the other items you mentioned. I believe she will appreciate having choices.”

“Of course. Choices. An excellent idea. I will make it so.” His eyes sparkle with delight, and I wonder how long it’s been since he’s used his skills.

I’m aware that some of the soldiers pay him to make their tents more comfortable, but I can’t recall the last time his skills were called upon to upgrade one of the carriages.