Page 3 of The Ivory King (Crowns of Melowynn #2)

THE SOUNDS OF DRUNKEN REVELRY FLOATED UP to my balcony as I stood in the waning moon’s light, waiting.

Still waiting. The church tower bells had just rung out thrice. V’alor had not come yet. Sorrow sat upon my shoulders like a buzzard seated on a craggy bough, waiting for the final gasp to leave a dying beast.

“Foolish ass,” I chided myself as a woman far below laughed at something someone had said. A lute song carried up and into my face, the smell of the peat bogs always on the wind here. Even the small braziers of scented herbs and flowers that were lit in each chamber could not hide the odor completely. Perhaps it was a fitting aroma. For my hopes that the man I loved would come to me and now lie dead in the peat, rotting just like the plants and small beasts. “So foolish…”

Inebriated elves, still feeling the pinch of no stag killed in the hunt, were spread out on the grounds below. Many were fucking, some were sleeping on stone benches, and a few were dancing in the grand fountain. I watched it all with no emotion. Yes, the snub had left me dead inside. Yet, I was not wholly surprised. A kiss shared in a moment that was rife with panic, anger, and relief was not exactly binding. V’alor was a man of integrity. And I was a fool—

A soft rap on the door pulled me back. If it were Joralf seeking entry to my bed, the valet was going to receive a firm reprimand.

“Come!” I barked, spinning from the lovers and drunkards. The door opened on silent hinges. “I shall warn you ahead that I am in a mood most foul, so if you think that I shall brook your advances, Joralf, you are sorely mistaken.”

V’alor filled the doorway clad in simple clothes. A white shirt loose at the neck, plain brown breeches, and soft slippers of tanned leather. I felt as if someone had ridden into me at a full gallop. “I know not who this Joralf is, but I shall find out and when I do I shall—”

“You came,” I stammered. He closed the door, his feet seemingly unable to come into my suite more than a step or two.

“I came, but I am here only to speak with you.” He talked quietly, despite the thickness of the stone walls and the revelry taking place outside. “My lord Aelir.”

“No, do not start using titles to place a barrier between us,” I said, striding closer to him, my heart thundering in my chest. “I will not brook it. We have been familiar for years, the best of friends.”

“Yes, friends. And that is how it shall remain, Aelir. I am older than you.” I nodded as I reached for the hem of my sleep gown. He was older. That was true. By a mere ten seasons. Kenton and Beirich had a much larger gap in their ages and both were as contented as lambs napping in a warm spring meadow. His deep brown eyes flared as I pulled my nightshirt off to stand in front of him, bare as the day I had been birthed. My cock stood at attention, weeping just from the sight and sound of him. “Aelir, by Ihdos, you must not tempt me so when I am trying to be…”

His words fell off as I moved closer, so close that I could touch him. I ran a hand over his chest. He heaved a mighty exhalation that ruffled my loose hair.

“Do not be anything but the man who loves me,” I whispered as my palm came to rest over his firm left pectoral. “I feel your heart gallops just as mine does.” I took one of his hands, rough and large, and situated it over my chest. “I have loved you since my fifteenth season, V’alor. No other has this effect on me, nor ever will.”

“You do not know this, Aelir. Someday you shall have to wed to produce an heir.” His fingers moved over my flesh, pressing into the pectoral, as the subtle firelight from the scented brazier in the corner cast us in shades of the softest honeysuckle.

“That is years away. Umeris shall outlive us all.” I stepped closer until my chest rested on his. I looked up, sending my hair sliding over my shoulder to tickle my ass cheeks.

“I wish you did not look upon me that way,” he coughed out as his free hand found its way into my hair. “I should not have come to you in the night. I cannot keep my hands from you when you gaze upon me with such emotion.”

“I long to have your hands on me,” I breathlessly replied, rising to my toes to press my lips to the corner of his tight lips. A guttural sound rumbled out of him. He turned his chin. His lips captured mine as his hand fisted in my hair. I clung to him like a night rose vine to a castle wall. His lips were soft yet demanding. I opened much like the night rose does the moth. His tongue swept mine as he tugged gently on my hair, tipping my head back slightly, and I lapped at his mouth. “Yes, yes,” I panted as he ran his lips down to my throat. I wrapped my arms around him, arching higher into the embrace, letting my head fall to the side. “Kiss me there. Kiss me everywhere.”

“Your skin is like blue poppy,” he mumbled against my throat. He shook free of my hand to cup my buttock. “One taste is not enough.” He nipped at my ear. I shuddered wantonly, my hands roaming up under the loose tunic to finally dance over his wide, strong back.

“I pray you stay forever addicted,” I replied and got a hot chuckle which turned into a long suckling bite that sent shivers down my spine and hot fingerlings of lust to my balls.

“Aelir…”

I nearly came. My cock ached, so I rolled my hips. My prick ground into his pelvic bone. A rumble rolled out of him as he aligned us neatly, his long thick shaft next to mine. A madness of the blood broke free inside me. My words became slurred, my eyelids sluggish, my bones pliable. I was his. Now. Tomorrow. Always.

“Take me to bed, breech me, fill me with your cock, then your seed,” I whimpered as he held me in place so tightly to him that I could feel the pulse of his cock through his trousers.

“I should not breech you,” he said, but his fingers on my ass were already questing between my cheeks. I lifted my leg to give him access to my hole. With a grunt, he found my opening. I cried out, my cock kicking as I coated his hip with hot ropes of semen. He bit down on my neck, then kissed the tender spot as I trembled in his hold. I stayed in his embrace, draped over him like a wet capelet, until he hoisted me from my feet.

I buried my face into the meat of his shoulder, using my teeth to tug at the loose collar of his shirt so I could gather the small droplets of sweat that were forming. His skin tasted of soap, man, and woodsmoke.

He placed me on the large bed, wary to avoid hitting the canopy with his head. The curtains surrounding the bed were thin pale blue. They would afford no privacy but would keep the bloodsucking mosquitoes that called the bogs home from draining a person dry while they slept.

I lay back, spent but eager for more. My gaze roamed over him as he stood between my legs, his expression one of great confusion. I smiled at him as I moved my foot from his hip to the front of his breeches. He gasped when I rubbed at his erection with the ball of my foot.

“I think you should breech me this night, V’alor, and every night that follows. I think you should use this fat cock of yours as well as your fingers and tongue, and I shall do the same for you.”

His sternness faded slightly. “Where did you learn how to speak like that?” I opened my mouth to reply. He held up a hand. “I retract my query. Tezen has taught you far too many things in her time as part of your band of chosen guardians. I will have to add another month to her latrine duty for teaching you such wicked things.”

“You shall do no such thing, for I have learned from others as well as her. Do you not wish to sink into me?” I took hold of my balls. His nostrils flared.

“Whether I wish to or not is not of consequence,” he replied, his sight locked on my fingers rolling my stones. He did not remove my foot from his stiff prick, so I continued kneading it with my foot. “We have done nothing that cannot be undone yet.”

Feeling him pulling back, I sat up, my balls forgotten, and my foot fell to the floor as I reached for the laces of his britches. A strong hand snapped around my wrist. Not painfully, never painfully, but firmly.

“Aelir, this is ill-advised,” he warned. I looked from the large tent in his trousers to him.

“No, it is not. It is what our hearts have wanted for far too long. Let me touch you, taste you, take you deep inside me. Let us love each other, V’alor. Surely nothing bad can ever come from two hearts that beat as one coming together.”

I watched the fight leave him then. This strong warrior removed his shirt with a tug that ripped some of the stitching, then flung it to the floor. When I went to free his prick, he took my hands in one of his and leaned down to steal a slick kiss. Then another.

“Let me touch you,” I panted as he pressed me back into the mattress, his legs fitting between my thighs perfectly.

“If you so much as look upon my cock, I shall embarrass myself,” he confessed, then held me down. We sank into the down bedding. My ankles were now hooked behind his ass, my hair fanned out under me, and my sight locked with his. “Of all the men in Melowynn, why did my traitorous heart choose the male I am blood-sworn to protect against all harm?”

“Do you intend to harm me, V’alor?” I asked, moving my hands over smooth skin and then firm chest muscles. “Know that I am not ignorant as to the ways of making love. I have bedded—”

“I do not wish to know whom you have bedded,” he growled as he held himself above me, thick biceps flexed. “For if you say either name of those slatternly Mossbell twins, I am not certain I will not suss them out of the whoring taking place downstairs and punch them in their noses much as I did Riley.”

I laughed lightly as my fingers slid down his belly to dip inside his trousers. This time he did not stop my curious hand when it found and then wrapped around his cock.

“Who is this Riley you speak of?” I asked and got a tiny little smile before he captured my mouth with his. His lips carried me to a different place, far away from Melowynn, where it was only V’alor and myself among the stars.

When I freed him from his trousers, he kicked them off, his reticence about our future as lovers dissipating with each caress. Would he revisit his worries come the morning light? I had no doubt. That was the kind of man he was. Did I feel regret at luring him into my arms? No. Yes. Perhaps a small bit, but when I handed him a small glass vial with a softly scented lubricant and saw his pupils swallow the dark ash coloring of his eyes, I could feel nothing but the rightness of us. He toyed with my opening as stroked his cock, thumbing the precum from him and smearing it over his shaft.

“You say you have been with others sexually?” He slid a finger into me as he asked.

“Ah, that…oh that.” I sighed, my grip on his prick tightening. “Mm, yes, two courtesans at the castle. Oh! Touch me there again. Yes!” My body lit up like a stormy sky as he rubbed a spot deep inside me.

“Male or female?” He added another finger.

“Female…does it…ah Ihdos!! Does it matter?” I writhed on the bed like an adder.

“Yes, greatly. Perhaps I should not—”

My eyes flew open. I caught his gaze and held it just as firmly as I did his cock. “If you do not sink into me now, I will surely go mad.”

He paused but a moment, before one side of his mouth twitched upward. “A mad ruler is not what the vills of Renedith requires.” He sat back and dribbled oil over my hand and his prick. I worked it all over his shaft, then let my hand fall to the bed as he placed one leg over his wide shoulder. His cock rested at my hole.

“Now, please, my love, my protector, my dearest friend, love me,” I huffed as he sank into me, slowly, so slowly. And I was grateful for the restraint, for my body was not accustomed to such a fat cock. I fingered myself every time I self-pleasured but two thin fingers did not compare to a thick prick. “Ah shit!” He froze. “No, no, I am fine, fine, more. I am just…shocked at the burn. Do not stop, V’alor, do not stop loving me.”

“As if I could,” he whispered, then pushed in deeper, inch by inch, until I was so full of my love that I could barely breathe. “Are you well?”

“I am…filled,” I panted. He went to ease out. I grasped his hips, keeping him seated. “No, please, it is a sublime burn.”

“You are sublime,” he replied so softly I had to strain to hear him. My love was not a man of great flowery words. V’alor was a man of action. But when he did speak of the tender things, he spoke so divinely. “Speak up if I hurt you.”

I ran my hands over his shoulders to cradle his face. “You could never hurt me,” I whispered and slowly willed myself to relax. He dropped kisses to my face as he began to move his hips, slow rolls and timid thrusts that soon erased the initial sting. He hiked my legs up higher, shoved a pillow under my ass, and steadily increased his pace until we both resembled war horses. Flanks a sheen of sweat, chest laboring, muscles straining.

“I am…you are…wonderful,” I cried out incoherently. My old tutor would be appalled to hear how inarticulate I was at the moment. Master Redbrook had always taken great pride in himself for how well he had taught me to form cohesive thoughts and speak with clarity and proper enunciation. “The mark of a true noble statesman is elegant speech delivered with concise diction even if the words are dubitable,” he loved to proclaim as I watched clouds floating by the nursery window. I did not understand then, but I did now. “Move your…yes, that way…close so close.”

Perspiration dotted his brow, a droplet running down to dangle on the tip of his aquiline nose. I caught it with my thumb. His eyes glowed with such passion that I could barely breathe, and then the flare at the base of my spine ignited. A cry left me that he quickly captured with his mouth. My knees were pushed into my chest as my release crashed over me like one of the turbulent summer storms I’d witnessed while at the capital. I took my cock in hand, but it wasn’t needed for spend spurted over my chest, fingers, and chin.

V’alor made a sound akin to a hungry rock bear leaving its den after a long winter rest. His hips pumped madly, his body tensed, and he pressed into me so far that it stole my shaky breath. The hot wash of his seed deep inside me brought forth another pulse of cum that I used to milk more from my cock. Our sights stayed on the other throughout until his arms began to tremble. He shifted then, only enough to ease his slippery cock out of me, removed the pillow, and let my legs fall to the sides. He moved back over me, caging me betwixt his arms as he lapped up each pearlescent drop of seed, even the ones that had dotted my chin. His actions made me laugh lightly. He licked a path to my mouth. I enfolded him with arms and legs, cinching him close as our tongues tangled languidly.

“I am replete.” I sighed when our kisses slowed. “Replete, and so happy,” I added, which got a somber look from V’alor. He pulled back, both mentally and physically, but as was the norm for him, he said nothing. I lay there as he moved to leave the knotted bedding, noting that his back and buttocks were scored from my fingernails. I ran a fingertip over one red welt. He hissed softly. “Apologies for your back. I have no recollection of clawing at you so violently.”

“I did not mind. The sting adds to the pleasure,” he replied with a fast look over a sweaty shoulder. I nodded. That it did. So very much. “Rest. I shall bring you a rag to clean yourself.”

He rose from the bed, fine linen sheeting falling from his long legs. I enjoyed the flow of muscle under taut skin as he padded to the washbowl and pitcher on an ornate side table by the brazier. The water would be cool now. If we wished for hot, I could ring for the staff, but I would rather clean myself with cold water than invite a stranger into this room right now. It would only add to V’alor’s tempered unease. My eyes closed as he splashed water into the bowl, the sounds of the night filtering back into the room. I could still hear a bard with a lute, but the noises of drunken debauchery seemed to have died down.

“Aelir, I have a rag for you.” I blinked awake, groggily, and smiled up at him. He returned the smile, sat down, and moved my hand from my tacky chest. “For such a petite male you have considerable spend to clean.”

“My balls are large,” I sluggishly answered as he wiped my chest, neck, and chin clean.

“So Umeris claims.” I laughed softly, then moved aside a bit. When he saw the empty space, he shook his head. “I should not stay. In truth, I should not have come at all.”

“Please, lie with me. The deed is done, V’alor. We are intimate now, and I am happy for it. Hold me until the sun arrives. Tell me of your love for me until I find sleep in your arms.”

He glanced at the doorway. We still had time. The stars were still visible. “I wish I could find a way to deny you anything.”

“You have denied me aplenty. From cookies to outings to wishes for striped cats from the Black Sand Isles,” I said with a smile as he dropped the rag to the floor and stretched out beside me. I moved quickly to burrow into his side. As soon as my head found his chest, his fingers moved into my hair. Combing it, lifting it from my tacky back, then letting it fall over us. He moved the covers up over our cooling bodies. “Do you care for me, V’alor?”

His gentle play with my hair stalled for a moment. “You ask that of me after I have been inside you?”

“Sex is not love. One can be enjoyed without the other. I wish to know if you care for me as deeply as I care for you.”

He carried a handful of gold locks up and released it. It floated down to cover his chest.

“I care, Aelir. Far too much for my peace of mind.”

I placed a kiss on his dark pink nipple. “Loving someone should not upset your mind. Tell me when you first fell in love with me as a man.”

He drew in a long breath, his chest rising, then falling as he exhaled. The scented cones in the brazier spat and sizzled as the lone flame left light on the reddish scales.

“It was the night of your eighteenth birthing celebration. Umeris had just removed the circlet of the regent of Renedith from your head and replaced it with the silver crown of the heir apparent. I recall looking at you and seeing you as the man that you had grown into and being both drawn to your beauty and sickened that I could view you in such a manner. I had wiped your nose when you were just a toddler, carried you over bogs and brambles when your skinny short legs tired on excursions, and stood outside the nursery door for nights untold as you slept.”

“You still stand outside my chamber far longer than need be,” I whispered, my fingers moving over his stomach in small, sloppy circles. “I hear the change of guards nightly and wish that you would come through my doors instead of walking away.”

“My entering your chambers would not be fitting, Aelir.”

I huffed. “Please, do not drag us back into that quagmire. Just for this night, let us be men who love each other.”

A long moment passed. “Apologies. I do love you, Aelir. Know that if nothing else. My passion for you burns brighter than the sun that warms our lands. Tonight we shall be men who love the other and nothing more. On the morrow—”

“On the morrow, we shall still be men who love each other. Naught will change.” I nestled closer, my eyelids growing leaden, and let out a long, sleepy sigh. I fell asleep after making that declaration, snug and safe with my love beside me.

I came awake with the sun shining on my face and a cold place in my bed where V’alor should have been. Wiping the hair from my eyes, I rolled to my side, away from the sun that had finally burned through the rain clouds. Another knock on my door rang through my chamber. Smiling at the image in my mind of it being V’alor coming back from the kitchens with something to break our fast, I yanked the covers up to bare my flank, situated my knotted hair that he so loved to touch in a hopefully seductive way, and called for him to enter. My head was so full of romantic fluff, as was my heart, that I never thought to see anyone other than V’alor step through the door.

Pasil gawked at me with wide blue eyes, then spun as I flailed to cover my backside.

“I beg your forgiveness, my lord Aelir, but you called to enter and I…well, I entered,” Pasil, clad in soft leather armor bearing the Stillcloud swan on the chest plate, spoke to the back of the door as I scrambled to cover myself properly.

“No, it is my fault. I thought you to be—” I paused. “I thought you to be the valet come with my bath.”

“Ah, no, my lord, I am here to…well, I am here to inform you that…well, perhaps I should not have come at all, but since it has to do with V’alor and—”

My attention flew from trying to tie a sheet around my waist to the ebony-haired elf speaking to a door.

“Is he not in the kitchens or barracks?”

“No, my lord, he is having an audience with Lady Si’ofra.”

My mouth fell open. My sheet slid down to my ankles. I hurried to pull it up over my ass.

“What is he meeting with her about?” I asked and got a shrug of a strong shoulder.

“I dare not say, my lord Aelir, but he seemed most set upon seeing her as soon as she rose from her night’s rest. If it pleases you, may I turn yet?”

I cinched the coverlet into a knot at my hip. “Yes, please face me.” He peeked over a rounded pauldron then turned fully. “Was there some sort of upset at the gates?”

“No, my lord, not that I am aware of, he simply announced to me as he changed into his armor that he was off to speak to the lady of the keep as well as the castellan.”

I blinked like an owl. The lady and the castellan? What need would V’alor have to speak to Lady Mossbell or the man in charge of the castle guards?

“Perhaps a fight broke out between their men and ours?” I asked once I found my voice.

“If so, I am not aware of it, and as I am V’alor’s lieutenant and he was not in the barracks last night, any such dispute would have come to me in his stead.” I stared at Pasil. He gave me the merest hint of a smile. “Not that I am insinuating that he is not allowed to rest his head on softer pillows than what we have in the barracks…” So he suspected that V’alor had been here with me. I felt a flush of heat rush to my face. “Or whom he shared those soft pillows with, but I do have eyes in my head, my lord, and many is the night that he has sent me to my bed so he could stand outside your chambers. While I am not a highly educated noble, only the son of a tanner, I can add two and two to arrive at four. I hope I am not speaking out of place, Lord Aelir?”

“No, you speak as his second and his most trusted friend. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I shall speak to V’alor about it when we ride to the archery range after the midday meal.”

Pasil placed a fist on his chest, lowered his head in deference and respect, and then left as silently as he had entered. Confused greatly, I padded across the room to ring for my valet. When he arrived, I was staring out the open doors at the grounds below.

“Draw me a bath. Lay out my ruby under clothing and then rub some rendered bear fat into my armor. I am going to compete today in the archery games. Oh, and send word to the stables that my mare is to be saddled and ready after the midday meal.”

“Yes, my lord Aelir. Do you wish me to braid your hair? The lords Mossbell have taken to wearing their hair plaited like the rheas do to keep it from their faces when they—”

“I will tend to my own hair. And you are not to use that slur in my company again.” I glared across the expanse of my chamber at the servant. He paled and then nodded vigorously before backing out of my room to round up hot water and bear grease. While I bathed and nibbled on dark bread, cheese, and hard-boiled quail eggs, I mulled over my lover. I could smell the rank fat that Joralf was working so diligently into my armor as I sat in the hammered copper tub, water covered with tiny flakes of wintergreen flux seed tickling my chin.

Coming awake to an empty bed had not surprised me. It disappointed me, yes, but I knew V’alor would not chance being discovered in my chambers. Even though there were no rules against a noble and a commoner having sex. Just the opposite. Many of the villagers and workers in all the grand elven houses dallied with the titled. The towns and farms near every keep were overflowing with bastards. All that mattered was that those who would rule the vills were noble born. And over the past few generations that was becoming difficult to maintain. My main worry was why V’alor was meeting with the lady of the house and her castellan. The only reason that I could conjure was that he was speaking to them about a position here at Castle Moonsweald. What other cause could there be? He had obviously come awake beside me, fell into a panic about station, age, duty, and the other nonsensical reasons he had for keeping us apart and saw no other way to ensure he would not weaken as he did last night. He surely was going to leave the employ of the Stillclouds to come here just to avoid any deeper romantic entanglements.

I scrubbed my face with soap that smelled of beach wood to scour away the tears that rolled down my cheeks. Hurt beyond rational thinking, I swore I would find him and explain just what I thought of his cowardice. It was despicable of a man to bed someone who adores him and bolt come the first rays of the day. When I located the heartbreaker, I would—

“My lord Aelir, would you wish me to have the fletcher bring you some new yew arrows for the competition?” Joralf asked, his voice floating over the top of the changing screen imported from the Black Sand Isles. “Fletcher Q’inth is renowned for his skills.”

“Thank you, but the Stillcloud fletcher saw to my arrows before we left. What I would wish for you to do for me is to locate V’alor Silverfrond, my guard captain, and inform him that I wish to speak to him on a private matter before we leave for the archery range.”

“Of course, my lord. Your armor is ready. It is most supple and soft. My hands are much the same if you find you have sore muscles.”

I rolled my eyes. I was sore, in spots, but nowhere that this randy elf was ever going to massage.

“No, thank you. Go find V’alor, please, then return to aid me in dressing for the archery event.”

I heard his melancholy sigh before the snick of the chamber door closing.

Rising from the tub, filled with fury and agony in my heart, I stomped out from behind the screen to dry off and dress. Looking at my armor neatly laid out on the covers that V’alor and I had twisted into knots, I had a fleeting thought to take the soiled coverlets and pitch them over the side of the balcony. Of course I did no such thing. I instead found the red undergarments stitched for wear beneath leather armor. That much I could do alone. While I waited, I paced. A small elven woman came to clean the tub and bathing area behind the screen, bowing deeply every time she laid eyes on me.

Finally, Joralf returned looking like a whipped hound. “My lord Aelir, I tracked him to the lady’s salon. When asked to speak to him, I was scolded. Then when I told them that I was here directly on the orders of Lord Aelir of Renedith I was given leave to wait but I did not wish to make you tardy for the opening ceremony for the archery competition for it is known far and wide that your skills with a bow are—”

“Joralf, make your point!” I barked. His face went white. The woman hauling buckets of dirty water to the door startled so violently that water flew from the buckets in her hands. A small flurry of activity took place while the puddle was mopped up with the wet linens I had dried with. Once the shaken woman was on her way, Joralf stood before me with his pretty eyes on his slippers. I took a breath. Then another. It was not the staff’s fault that my love was planning to leave me this very morn. I did not yell at those who worked under me. That was not at all my way. “I apologize for raising my voice before. Did you leave a note for V’alor, perhaps?”

“Yes! I did. I have good penmanship, my lord. I directed him to see you at his soonest possibility. Then I ran back to assist you into your armor.”

“Very good. Thank you. You’re quite conscientious.” He beamed. “Now, let us get this armor on, shall we?”

With his assistance, he was quite adept at his job, I was fully armored in dark brown leather with our gold swan emblem on the cuirass. Bracers, grieves, knee and elbow cops, then boots, and I was ready. He attached a half cape of dark red with fine silver needle working along the edges. I pulled my hair into a thick tail. Joralf asked if he could decorate my hair, and so, after a brief nod, his adept hands began working small plaits into the tail. Red beads were worked into the braids as were some pristine white swan feathers.

“Where did you procure those feathers?” I asked as he worked behind me.

“I had a messenger boy pluck them off the ground by my lady’s private pond. There are two swans that live there.”

“Very clever.”

“Thank you. I would do anything for my lord Aelir.”

Yes, I was quite aware of that but wasn’t the Mossbell family the ones he should be showering with such adoration? “Your devotion to duty is noted.”

We gathered my bow and front quiver, and off we went. Joralf hustled to stay with me as I rushed through the keep to step outside. Several horses waited for their noble owners to arrive. I found Atriel third in line, saddled, with her dapple coat gleaming in the midday sun. I ran a hand over her neck, speaking softly as I caressed her long nose. Her mane and tail were tightly braided as was the norm for competitions such as this. Joralf coughed to get my attention and then handed me a small carrot.

“From the kitchens for your beautiful steed,” he whispered as he handed the slightly soft carrot over. Atriel lifted the vegetable from my hand with ladylike manners. “Surely she is the most attractive horse taking part in the games today. Would you wish me to serve as your armiger today?”

I gave the man a long look. Usually, I would have V’alor at my side to aid me and also keep his eye on his lord, but since he was off plotting to leave my employ and knowing that V’alor had not liked the way the valet had been so flirtatious, I smiled at the handsome young man. Pasil and two other Stillcloud guards sat upon their horses, eyeing Joralf warily.

“That would be most helpful.”

Joralf grinned widely. I threw a leg over my horse and rode off as Joralf jogged along in my dusty wake, holding my bow and quiver as if it were the king’s crown. My guards rode behind Joralf, silently. I could only imagine what they were thinking about this slim valet making eyes at me while their guard captain was nowhere to be seen.

Joralf kept up admirably. Since I had no plate armor for him to carry, he would have to fulfill the duties of shield bearer with my archery gear, which was much lighter to carry.

We rode along a smooth dirt roadway with well-tended flowerbeds overflowing with bright yellow pear-shaped flowers called pouth that healers used in tonics for womanly discomforts and grew only in boggy lands. Fat honeybees buzzed about the sweet-smelling flowers as did several large green butterflies with red dots. The grounds were lush with grass as green as the pines that grow in the Verboten woodlands.

Noble elves trotted along the roadway atop steeds of fine breeding. The men adorned in rich, dark colors sewn in the material that humans called velvet. Atop their heads were small caps with wild feathers, which was all the rage at the king’s court this season. Next season, the courtiers might be seen with purple waterfowl atop their heads if our king woke one morn and wished to plunk a plum-colored duck atop his pate. It was all a bit nonsensical to me as it seemed that our lands had more pressing matters for those in power to attend to. Still, here I was pretending to admire caps with bejeweled feathers.

The women wore flowing robes in pastel tones, most with lacy shawls worn over their heads to shield their milky white complexions from the sun. Their servants would be at their arranged seats with beeswaxed cloaks to hold over their lord’s and lady’s heads should it drizzle as well as hampers packed with gourmet foods and chilled ice wine.

I nodded at those I passed along the promenade, ensuring that no word would fly back to Renedith about my snubbing anyone of import. Umeris and I had enough contentions we did not need a riled aristocrat added to the list.

The range was on the other side of the hedge maze and floral gardens. Stands were recently built for the event, and they were filled already. Banners of the noble houses snapped in the rough gusts so we would have to make accommodations for the wind when we were shooting. Atriel winded the other horses and tossed her head as I rode up to the queue waiting to be formally announced to the crowds.

The twins were ahead of me, the first in line, obviously, but they raised their hands in greeting. The sun and wind felt good on my face. I scanned the guards, who had ridden off to linger along the entrance. V’alor was not among his men. My chest felt tight.

A hail of trumpets broke into my worried thoughts. Joralf squeaked in joy, then handed me my bow and quiver. I gave him one nod as Atriel pranced under me. All the horses were eager to be given a run. There would be two rounds of this event. Standing archery and shooting on horseback. My mare was an excellent horse for these events and had won me many cups and ribbons over the years. Many argue that a certain breed of horse is best for mounted archery. Like the chestnut sand horses from the Black Sand Isles, but I have found it more disposition than breed. Atriel was my most trusted partner. Well, after Kenton and V’alor, but I was too hurt to consider V’alor anything other than a rogue right now. My horse knew what was expected of her and delivered with just a light touch of knee-to-side. No reins. They were not permitted nor did any elven rider require them when shooting. No race was as adept at shooting from horseback as the elves. I say that without prejudice for it is fact. Humans are too bulky, dwarves too short, and yeti do not ride horses. They prefer to lumber along on foot or in massive carts pulled by hairy beasts with long white coats and large curved horns known as cuth in the yeti tongue.

Perhaps the Sandrayan people are our matches, but I had never seen one of the dark-skinned elves from the Black Sand Isles shoot. They did breed magnificent steeds for archery, though, strong yet intelligent horses, so it would stand to reason that—

“Lord Aelir! Your guard captain approaches!” Joralf called up to me. I shook off my wandering thoughts to find V’alor striding toward me, his jaw tight, his dark eyes locked on the valet, trying to hide behind my mare. The sun glinted off his dark hair and armor. How anyone could not sit in awe of his masculine beauty, I did not know. The man was beautiful. Ugh. No, I was furious with him.

I sat straighter, threw my shoulders back, and turned my nose up into the wind.

“You wished to see me, my lord?” V’alor asked, his gray cape flapping around his stiff body. “There was a note left by a messenger…”

“I am not a messenger! I am Lord Aelir’s shield bearer!” Joralf shouted, then skittered back behind Atriel when V’alor flung a heated glower at him.

“I wished to speak to you on a personal matter, but your business with the good lady Mossbell and her master of the guards superseded my wishes.”

V’alor glanced up at me in confusion. “No others take precedence over you, my lord.”

I shot him a quick glance. He looked sincere, which he normally always was. Ihdos be damned! “I’m sure that whatever you wished of me can be relayed now.”

Atriel reached out to try to nip a sleek gelding that one of the Dewfall cousins sat upon. I gave her braided mane a tug.

“I wish to know why you are seeing the castellan of Castle Moonsweald,” I stated, perhaps a bit too loudly, for several contestants looked my way. “If you wish to leave the employ of the Stillcloud family, there is no need to sneak off like a thief in the dead of night to offer your sword arm to the Mossbells.”

His eyes widened and then narrowed. “You speak in riddles, Lord Aelir. I have no wish to leave the Stillcloud family, for they are dear to me.” I snorted. “I merely went to speak to the lady and her castellan to pass along some information that may affect the security of Lady Bonnalure’s gala this night.”

That sounded incredibly…like V’alor. Fuck. I peeked down at him. His expression was shuttered, but I could see the frustration tightening the lines around his mouth. Fuck. Fuck. “Where did you hear that I thought to leave your employ?” His gaze flew to Joralf. “Was it you who filled my lord’s ear with falsities? Mark me, little weasel, if I discover you were spreading lies, I shall cleave you in twain, then feed the two halves to the ravens.” Joralf teetered over. My bow and quiver fell into the dirt as my chosen bow bearer lay face down in the dust. I rolled my eyes to the quick-moving clouds. “Perhaps you should have chosen a man to carry your weaponry instead of a ferret.”

“Perhaps you should have—”

The rest of my tirade was cut short by the opening of the gates. V’alor, always the gentle elf, walked around Atriel, gathered my bow and quiver, handed them up to me, and then tossed Joralf over his shoulder like a sack of boiled turnips.

“We will discuss this later, my lord Aelir?” V’alor asked with the innocence of a newborn lamb.

“Yes, of course. Take him into the shade and revive him.” I touched my heels to Atriel’s sides and rode off, trying to find the inner calm that I was usually known for. This wild, impulsive, insecure Aelir was a stranger to me. As the contestants trotted about the oval track, waving and smiling to the nobles, I was trying to calm myself. Jagged nerves did not aid in precision shooting. Even Atriel was edgy. She was picking up on my emotional state. I had no clue why I had leaped to such a wild conclusion about V’alor. Heaving a sigh, I had to accept a fact that Kenton had passed to me after his marriage. That love had the power to make even the smartest man act like a pickled eel now and again.