Page 1 of The Shadow Fae Rhapsody (Elven Fantasy Romance #3)

Prologue Rhianelle

“ H old still, please,” the knight begs, fear haunting his features.

I step closer to the edge of the parapet.

He halts, his dark brown hair swaying in the wind. “Don’t do this, Princess.”

“Give it up,” I taunt him. “You can’t catch me, Oscar.”

The knight corners me slowly, spreading his arms wide to snatch me. I know he’ll fail because I’m barely taller than his knee.

A frown etches between his eyebrows. “Come on down, Princess. Stop playing around.” He holds out his hand, his eyes pleading for me to take it. “It’s dangerous.”

I tilt my head to look below at his warning. The rampart is five stories aboveground, and the height is almost dizzying. Oscar uses my distraction to his advantage, reaching out to grab me. I do a millipede roll to evade his capture.

“Princess Rhianelle! No!” he screams.

I shoot up to my feet and level myself on the parapet.

”Don’t worry. I’m good at this.” I curtsy in front of Oscar. He should have trusted my ability. I’ve been training behind Rainer’s back.

The knight exhales heavily with relief while I catch my own breath. I don’t let him see the exertion is getting to me.

“One of these days, you’re going to give me a heart attack,” he grumbles, touching his chest.

Guilt settles in my chest for making him anxious.

“Let her be,” old guy Loren mutters to the young recruit, puffing his pipe. “It’s better if the princess plays here under our watch than to let her wander close to woods.”

Oscar’s eyes flick to the far distant and I follow his gaze. The gallant knight lets out a heavy breath at the glimpse of the greenery shrouded in the mist. Far beyond the heavy fog surrounding the indigent village of Feywildra, lies the thick wilderness of the forbidden forest.

Astefar.

There had been many tales surrounding the mysterious woods. Ancient beasts and monsters lived there, the ones not even Casimir the Brave himself could defeat. It is said that they hold a grudge against the elves to this very day for sealing them. No one in their right mind would venture close to the trees. Sometimes you can hear voices coming from the sea of green, coaxing you toward them. The villagers named them the Children of Night. Those that answer their siren call are never to be seen again.

Unlike Loren and Oscar, I’m not afraid of the whispering woods. I told them that the monsters don’t scare me, but still they will not let me go anywhere near the tree lines.

How boring. There’s nothing much for me to do here in this village… But that’s all right. Rainer said we wouldn’t stay here long. Mother plans to continue her campaign north, deep into the dwarven territories.

“You’re right, I give up.” Oscar shakes his head, his shoulders slumping with defeat. “You win, Princess.”

A spark of triumph spread across my chest. I keep my feet steady on the balustrade while balancing the heavy grimoire on my head. Then I remember father telling me this tome is precious. I quit playing with the book and stash it into my satchel.

“If it isn’t little Rhianelle,” Captain Loren greets with a grin. “You’ve been running like the devil is chasing you.”

“Maybe he is.” I shrug. Or I’m chasing him. I’ve been running after the castle’s stray tabby, Lucifer.

The knight smiles at my answer, placing more tobacco into his long pipe. He appears to have more gray hair this year than he did last year.

I pity Oscar and Loren for having to keep an eye on me on Rainer’s order. I know they’d rather be on the training grounds than babysit me.

Loren lights up his pipe with a match, one eye squinting from the smoke clouding his face. “Headed for class again?”

“Yes.” I beam proudly.

The lecture is starting soon and I don’t want to miss the first part. “I have to go now. Bye, Loren.” I wave him farewell. “Keep Oscar out of trouble for me.”

“Hey, I should be saying that to you, Princess—” His shout echoes behind me as I rush down the barrier and head straight for the stairs.

The corridors in Elowen castle are eerily dark. I half expect a ghost would jump at me at any time. There’s just not enough elvenlight or torches on the walls. At least the lighting is much better now than it was when we first arrive. I push away any spooky thoughts and focus on getting to the classroom.

‘Summoning is a lost art,’ Father explained yesterday in his lecture. I like the way his eyes gleamed when he told the class the best summoners in the past did not even have to draw summoning circles.

He has spent his whole life learning the art and yet he only managed to call forth a single green bean from the circle. The amount of energy needed to move things across dimension is massive.

As the head of the Wiolant family, father has no time for unimportant things, but if I pretend to be interested in his lectures, I can easily slip into the conversation that it’s my sixth Nameday next week.

I push on the door without knocking. “I’ve done my homework!”

All eyes in the room turn to me. Father is not here yet, but his students seat at the round table—five High Elves from the prominent noble houses in Aelfheim. They have travelled far to listen to his speech.

My cheeks flush over my discourteous arrival. I walk politely towards the small circle of people, practicing the manners Lady Deirdre taught me.

“Come sit with us, Princess.” Anneliese pats the seat beside her, her smooth, blonde hair swirling at the movement. They have stacked heavy books on the chair for me to sit on so I can reach to write on the table.

Father’s students are the best and they’re always nice to me. Anyone who seeks knowledge and wishes to learn has a place by their side. Mile the gardener once joined us until the Lady of the House chased him away.

“Don’t tell me you’ve finished this one too?” Jacque asks incredulously, awe flickering in his amber eyes.

I nod proudly. I understand nothing, though.

They proceed to discuss and debate the material at hand. The first book is on the basis of summoning, the second one is the technique to call upon an object, and the final book delves into summoning life and spirit through the circle.

I listen to their conversation, taking notes on the points to ask father later.

The door opens but it’s not my father who enters the room. Lord Kearne walks in with a grim look on his face. “Master Reinhart will not be conducting his class today. There is an urgent matter in Tiamat that requires his immediate attention.”

Father left?

Despair pulls my heart over the news. I keep the creeping sadness inside, careful to not show them. Murmurs of disappointment resound from the enlightened elves around me, but they don’t dwell on the bad news for very long.

I wait for the class to dismiss before walking up to Kearne casually. Sunlight from the window dances on his perfectly styled dark hair. His face is a little keener than I remember. This prolonged war is taking a toll on everyone, from the poorest to the wealthiest.

“When did father leave?” I ask the lord without proper greeting. Kearne is a family friend and I know he won’t tell Lady Deirdre about my poor etiquette.

“Early at dawn this morning,” he replies quietly.

We amble to the entrance without words.

“Will he come back for my birthday next week?” I ask the lord, trotting slowly beside him.

Kearne takes a long moment to answer this time. “I’m afraid he won’t.”

My heart sinks like a stone. I don’t think I managed to hide the dejected look on my face in time.

Kearne kneels in front of me, his face earnest and kind. “I think you should come home with me and my wife to Volundr.”

His invitation surprises me.

“Thank you for the offer,” I say with a polite smile. “But I’m going to Varyndor with my family.”

Rainer said I can come with him. He promised he would take me everywhere.

The lord gives me a hard, sorrowful look. “A war camp is no place for a young lady.”

That’s not it… that’s not the reason he didn’t want me to come.

Aerin has been doing just fine at the battlefront. Seneschal Kearne is just being polite because he doesn’t want to say what everyone else has been saying.

I am weak.

My growth is stunted because I am born prematurely. I’ve seen the look in people’s eyes. They pity me because I’m smaller than my peers.

“I’ll be fine, Lord Kearne,” I assure him. I know he is just trying to help.

Lord Kearne inhales a slow, even breath. “Very well, I shall take my leave then. Stay safe, Princess.”

I give him a farewell hug and walk to my room. Father’s sudden departure to Tiamat weighs heavily on my mind. I hope he is safe wherever he is.

My pulse thumps out of rhythm over a soft mewling sound. It comes from one of the smaller quarters around the corner. I slowly sneak towards the doorway. Sunlight filters through the large window, shimmering on the neatly braided brunette hair of the person inside the room.

Pretty.

The lady startles at my sudden presence.

“Oh, it’s you, Your Highness,” Jessica says, wiping tears over her cheeks.

She is sitting near a pile of sharp broken porcelain. That’s dangerous. Adults should know better.

“Why are you crying?” Moments like this make me wish I had handkerchiefs readily available with me like Rainer does.

The girl sniffles and takes a moment to compose herself.

“I left the window open and a stray cat broke in.” Tears fall freely from Jessica’s eyes as she unfolds the truth.

It must have been Luce who broke the vase.

Evil, naughty tabby.

“The governess wants to cut my pay for the month.” Another choke of sob slips out from her. “I barely have enough to buy milk for my sister.”

I take another glance at the broken brown pot. I’m not saying that the vase deserved to get knocked over by Lucifer, but what a hideous piece of decoration.

I unclip the pins in my braid.

“You can buy another ugly pot with this,” I say, offering her the shiny hair clip. I know that the stuff the handmaidens wove over my hair is valuable.

Jessica backs away from the gift like I had shown her a worm. “I can’t take your diamond headdress.”

“Of course you can,” I insist, passing it to her.

“No, no,” she repeats, shaking her head fervently. “I can’t. They’ll accuse me of stealing.”

Her reaction confuses me to no end.

“Give me the one from your hair then. It’s a trade,” I suggest.

She leans back, a frown tugging her mouth. “A gemstone for a wooden hairpin… Are you sure?”

I give her a firm nod.

Jessica says nothing for a long while, studying my face. I can almost read the whirring in her mind. She must be thinking of her starving sister. I know I would do anything for Aerin. The fear in her face finally dissolves into something calmer.

“You should have all of mine,” she finally says.

I want to be modest and say I only need one, but the strawberry pins on her hair are too cute. “I’ll take two, please.”

She hands me the pair with trembling fingers.

“You should know they have my name carved in small letters at the back,” she informs me in a low voice, half afraid I would change my mind.

No way.

I’m already pinning them on each side of my head. “I love them, Jessica.”

I gasp when Jessica suddenly wraps her arms around me.

“Thank you, thank you,” she whispers gratefully into my ear. I feel the relief shuddering through her. “You don’t know what this means for my family.”

I melt into her warm embrace. The sting of disappointment I felt earlier slowly ebbs away after getting new hairpins.

“Where’s Oscar?” she asks, pulling away. “Isn’t he supposed to be with you?”

My heart prickles at the question. I take a step back and shrug.

“Did you sneak away from his watch again?” Jessica asks with a soft smile.

I nod, backing away. I don’t want to get the knight into trouble. “If you see him, tell him I’m going to my room.”

I walk along the passage and make a quick stop at Mother’s chamber to tell her that Father is gone.

The door is ajar and I hear Rainer’s smooth voice coming from inside. “What do you suppose we should do then?”

It’s not nice to eavesdrop, but I can’t help it.

“We can’t bring Rhianelle with us.” Mother’s voice carries across the room.

I stop in my tracks at the mention of my name. My heart is racing as I peer slowly behind the door. I glimpse at Mother sitting at the edge of her bed in her nightgown. Tears fill her eyes and they overrun, spilling down her lovely cheeks. My uncle is right beside her in full armor.

“She is too weak, too small. A mistake.”

Pain snakes into my chest over her remarks. I don’t understand why it would hurt this time. Mother used to say these things all the time when she took me to the Hlaryan healers for my checkups.

“Don’t say that.”

“Well, it’s true. She is.”

“Nothing from you could ever be a mistake.” Rainer’s voice gentles. He never uses that tone. Not even with Judge.

“The girl is so different from Aerin.” Mother lets out a breath and winces.

“That’s not a fair comparison. Aerin is extraordinary.” I catch a look at my uncle, finding pride glimmering in his eyes. “Rhianelle will be too. If you give her a chance.”

Warmth fills me over his confidence.

I am going to be extraordinary.

Mother gives a mournful cry. I’ve never seen her so vulnerable and broken. It’s like she’s not herself. “I can’t do this anymore. Every day I see her and I break.”

“You don’t mean that,” Rainer says quietly.

I strain to hear them over my racing heart.

She heaves an aggrieved sigh. “The girl is a constant reminder that I betrayed you.”

Silence follows her words.

“You were drunk. So was he,” my uncle says after the long pause.

Tears stream down her eyes over his words and she becomes more inconsolable. Mother starts pulling her hair in distress before Rainer snatches her wrist. “Stop that.”

“We had an agreement…” she says, her voice small and vulnerable. “I just don’t understand how it can happen—”

“It’s bound to happen when two people share a room every night,” Rainer interrupts.

“Why couldn’t it have been you? The gods must be laughing when they made me the eldest daughter and you the second son.” She buries her face in her hands. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

I don’t like seeing her cry. My heart pinches with every drop of her tear. I should run right inside to comfort her, but a small voice in my head tells me not to.

Rainer’s angular features arrange into a cool indifference. “Do you truly want my forgiveness?”

“Please,” she begs.

He levels his sharp gaze at her. “Then accept her.”

Something in the demand in Rainer’s voice makes her sit straighter, her gaze focussing on him.

“She’s your daughter. Therefore, she is mine too,” he says in a softer voice.

Mother’s face reddens the way Jessica’s does whenever Oscar passes by. She cups his jaw in her hands, staring deep into his eyes. “I’ll never understand it. How in the world could I have mistaken him for you that night?”

“My brother is quite the handsome guy,” Rainer mutters, a playful smile toying at his lips. There’s a teasing quality to his voice that I’ve never heard before.

His jest earns him a dark look from mother. All tears are purged from Caehir Kashran’s daughter and Rainer is now staring at the wrath of the Queen of Aelfheim and the conqueror of Dunrovin.

I instinctively cover my head whenever Mother has that expression, but Rainer is undeterred. She shakes her head with pure disdain, smacking his shoulder. “He has your features, and I was drunk. Let’s leave it at that.”

Mother leans her head on the same shoulder and Rainer strokes her hair. Their cryptic conversation turns boring, and I quickly slip away to my room. I may not understand much but I learned something important today.

They’re leaving me.

Cheese. Bread. Candies. Notepad. My best ribbons.

I stash everything of value neatly inside my backpack. It may take a while for the cavalry to reach Varyndor on warhorses instead of Noctrals. I should bring three or four books for the road. Five just to be safe.

I overheard Oscar saying that this old weapon storage room is no longer in use. All the items I’ve hidden here are intact, untouched by rats. Even my chocolate bars and candies. I silently thank the knight in my heart. Maybe I won’t run from his watch anymore.

The armory door creaks open.

“There you are,” Rainer’s smooth voice accosts me from behind. “Your mother searched for you everywhere this morning.”

I know she did. When she couldn’t find me, Mother left anyway without saying goodbye. It doesn’t matter. I’ll see her soon. I’m coming with them.

I glance at Rainer over my shoulder and arrange my stuff faster. “I’m almost done, Uncle.”

Immediate silence follows my words. Rainer releases a weighted breath.

“Rhianelle…” He fades briefly. “It’s not safe.”

I say nothing and keep on packing with haste. I don’t want to get left behind.

“We’re sending you back to Volundr,” he says, and my heart drops to my stomach. I grip the socks in my hand tighter. “But if you want to, you can stay here in Elowen. It’ll be easier for your mother, Aerin, and I to visit you from the Varyndor camp.”

I turn around to look at him.

“You said that you’ll take me with you,” I remind Rainer of his promise.

“It’s too dangerous. You’re an heir to the Wiolant House—”

“Then how come Aerin can go?” Tears well in my eyes as I stare at him. “It’s not fair.”

“Rhianelle…” Rainer raises his hand to touch my head, but it falters mid-air before reaching me.

I run to his leg and wrap my arms around his calf. “Don’t go, Uncle.”

He gives a nearly soundless sigh. “I must.”

“Then don’t leave me here. I’m scared,” I say, gripping his leg tighter like a python. “You said you’ll take me wherever you go.”

I feel his hand stroking my hair. “Sweet child, you will not survive the war camp. Your lungs can’t tolerate the cold in the north.”

“I want to see the dwarves. I hope they’ll invite me to their house.” Mother does not like this kind of rubbish talk, but I know I can tell Rainer whatever that is on my mind. “I read in books that they have little chimneys with fire from Astraea herself.”

“We’re going to war against them.” My uncle’s voice is suddenly filled with concern.

“But why?” I ask, meeting his stare.

“We just do. It’s the way things are.”

That reply doesn’t answer anything at all. But I have more important thing to tell Rainer right now. “If you go… you’ll miss my birthday.”

He slants his head to look at my face, affection softening his eyes. “I’ll send you presents, new dresses—”

“I don’t want them.” I shake my head.

“They will have ribbons. Coral ones.” My uncle knows me well. I’m slightly tempted. But Rainer’s bribe will not work on me this time.

“I want to come with you,” I insist stubbornly, staring at him.

“You can’t.”

His sharp silver eyes gaze into mine, intense and unrelenting. It’s the kind of look that made his enemies tremble and yield. Rainer’s decision is resolute. Not even Aerin dares to talk back to him whenever he has made up his mind.

The determination on his face unsettles me. My heart shatters into a thousand broken pieces. It’s set in stone then… I’m staying.

I break the stare and look to the ground, disappointment taking root. “I want a scarlet one too. And fulvous, turquoise, and emerald.”

“Done,” Rainer says quickly.

“I want a music box that plays twelve tunes,” I make another request.

“You got it,” he confirms, relief coating his tone.

“I want hair clips, rose wreathes, a giant dollhouse, a three-pocket backpack, a painting set with one hundred colors, eight new notebooks with art supplies, cat stickers, and a golden pony with soft hair.” I pitch in every difficult wish I can think of until I’m breathless. “Do you need a quill, Uncle? I listed a lot.”

“I’ll remember.” Rainer watches me closely with keen attention. “You’ll have them all for your Nameday.”

I don’t really need those things. I’m just trying to trouble Rainer so he’ll take me with him.

“You’re really going…” I mutter, my voice breaking.

He nods.

“I really can’t come?” I try again.

He shakes his head.

Sorrow punched a hole in my gut.

“It’s because I’m weak, isn’t it?” I ask him, my mouth dry.

His jaw flexes as his gaze sweeps over me. “I want to show you something.”

I step out of the armory and follow him silently. Rainer whistles at the nearby kennel.

“Uncle, no!” I yell, but it’s too late.

A shadow darts towards us at a frightening speed. I cover my eyes with my hands at the incoming threat.

Rainer gives a light laugh and place a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Rhianelle, it’s all right. It’s just Judge.”

Just Judge?

My uncle’s favorite warhound scares the living daylights out of me. The dog is tall with a wolfish build and silver fur. Rainer once told him to babysit me, and Judge did it obediently. Everyone praised the dog for being a better guard than Oscar, but what people did not know was that the canine had pinned me to the ground with his heavy paws for the entire three hours.

Judge is the worst.

It doesn’t help to know that he hunts fae and dwarves. He killed so many of them that the warriors include his name on the scoreboard.

The dog trots closer to us and I bristle.

My uncle kneels and crouches next to me. “Did you know that when Judge was born, he was the smallest runt in the litter? He was only half the size of my palm.”

I sniffle and peer from behind him to look at the dog. Sunlight gleams on the hound’s polished silver fur, highlighting his battle scars and making him appear more intimidating than usual. “That’s a lie, Uncle.”

“It’s true,” Rainer says earnestly, placing a hand on his chest. “I was sure he would not have lived past winter.”

The dog perks his ear, staring at me with his translucent eyes.

“He’s so big now,” I mutter, drawing my finger to pet him. But it’s too scary and I retreat.

“Exactly,” Rainer says, scratching the dog by the ears. “You will grow, and you will become stronger.”

“What if I don’t?”

“You will,” he says with an absolute certainty. “You’re a Wiolant, you have to.”

Right… I swallow nervously.

I wipe my cheek with the back of my hand. “All right, Uncle. I’ll try.”

Rainer stretches his hand to me. “Would you like to come and inspect the second regiment?”

I nod and take his offered hand.

Rainer brings me to the barracks and camps where the supporting armies from Volundr are stationed temporarily in Elowen before moving on to the frontline. Jessica said their stay is beneficial to Feywildra because it brings more money and wealth to the village. Maybe she’s just happy she gets to meet Oscar.

I recognize some of the faces in the bustling camp, noble sons and daughters of the houses in Volundr, the bronze-skin warriors from Kashran, cousins and distant relatives. They smile and wave when they see me. I see the determination and confidence in their hardened faces because the queen is a great strategist. Her short campaign has won Aelfheim a chunk of the dwarven territory in the past. They believe if anyone can make lightning strike twice, it would be her.

My uncle does his boring task of appraising the knights and their weapon. The warriors line up in an orderly formation upon his arrival. I get tired by the third row. I hate that I was born earlier than I was supposed to. I hate that my lungs are stupid.

Rainer lifts me into his arms and I rest my chin on his shoulder, still sulking. Everywhere we go someone would need him for something, whether it’s for checking the shipments of weapons or to sign some parchments. I’m small enough to sit on his arm like a parrot, watching everything quietly.

My eyes catch on Lady Deirdre as she packs her medicine bag with the rest of the Hlaryan elves. Her husband and son are coming with her. The boy looks about the same age as me, but he’s allowed to go.

It’s not fair.

They’re all leaving me.

Rainer senses my despair and whispers softly, “Hey, I’ll visit as often as I can.”

Often.

I know what that means in these warring times. Years…

I chew my inner cheeks and lay my chin on Rainer’s shoulder while he settles down on an armchair to sign his documents. My heart is inconsolable at the thought of being left here. I hold Rainer tighter. It may be years before I get to hug him again.

“Cheer up, Princess. We’ll be here with you,” Loren mutters, approaching us slowly. The old guy is one of the few people who dares to speak so casually in front of Rainer.

He blows another puff of smoke and gestures to the side. “Maybe you can help me lift Oscar’s spirit up. He failed the qualification for the battlefront.”

I lift my head to look at Oscar. He’s sitting on a crate, staring blankly at the ground. A sheen of sadness covers his features.

I understand how you feel, Oscar. I keep a brave face but the sorrow is wrecking my insides like a storm.

“Oscar…” I reach out to him.

The young knight answers my summons quickly, heedful and wary to be so close to my uncle. “Yes, Princess?”

I hold out my hand to pass one of the precious hairpins from my hair. He studies my gift silently, reading the name engraved on the pin.

“Jessica?”

I nod. “She likes you.”

There’s an awkward pause from both of us.

The knight’s face brightens almost immediately. Oscar wears his emotions on his face like people wear clothes. “She does?”

All his sadness from earlier disappears. Even his fear of my uncle is long forgotten as he retrieves a bundle of letters from his satchel. “Can you pass these to her, Your Highness?”

“I’m not a pigeon. Send it yourself,” I mutter, shrinking into the nook of Rainer’s neck to hide.

Captain Loren places an arm around Oscar’s shoulders, dragging him to walk away, “Just confess to the girl already.”

The captain winks at me before leaving. Good job, Princess.

I smile as I watch them stride across the camp, Loren filling Oscar’s head with love advice.

Eww.

But I think Jessica will be happy with Oscar. He is the third son of a noble and wealthy house in Volundr. His family is the keeper of one of the magnificent libraries back home. That way, she won’t have to borrow my books anymore. I don’t mind loaning them, but Jessica didn’t even read the ones I gave her. She just stared at the cover and smiled. I don’t understand her sometimes.

Rainer sketches a brow. “See that? You have friends here. The twelfth division will accompany you.”

I just nod, defeated and tired.

“Your mother’s campaign will annihilate the dwarven stronghold soon. You must be brave a little while longer,” he says, shifting to look at me better. “Promise me you’ll be good?”

I stare at him without words and uncertainty passes over his face. I can tell my uncle is anxious about leaving me in this place. Good, he should. I hate it here. But I don’t want to be a distraction for him in battle.

“I will,” I vow to ease his worry. “I’ll cultivate in the temples and earn my blessings from the gods.”

That pulls a laugh from him. “You’re too young for that.”

“Just you wait and see, Uncle…” I mutter with a yawn.

I weep silently until I am sleepy.

“Of course, she would go to school.”

I wake to the reedy and desperate voice belonging to Graysen, the Governor of the region of Elowen. His shoulder-length dark hair is unbraided, and he is dressed for court rather than battle. Unlike the pale and thin villagers of Feywildra, he is broad and healthy. “She is my ward. It’s my honor to have her here. I shall build a school just for her.”

He will?

The village doesn’t even have a library. I don’t mind not going to school, but the lack of books is one of the reasons I hate this place.

Rainer seems displeased but he says nothing.

“I will do everything in my power to keep her comfortable,” Governor Grayson vows, stepping closer. The strong musk of his perfume makes my eyes water. But I keep pretending I’m asleep and lay as still as a potato sack on Rainer’s shoulder.

“My niece will write to me every year,” Rainer says in a voice that can cut through glass. “If she gives any hint that she is displeased with your treatment, I will personally come back and have you executed.”

The threat almost makes me flinch. I control my heartbeat carefully like Aerin taught me. Rainer would not do that, right? I hope not. But I remember reading that Mother and Grandfather had once—

“I’ll flay your entire town as well,” my uncle adds to his pledge, breaking my thoughts. “Say that you understand Governor Graysen.”

“Of course,” the lord says in a fluster of panic.

I feel bad listening to the terror in his voice.

The governor doesn’t have to worry. I vow to write good letters to Rainer to make sure the villagers of Feywildra are safe.

Seven candelabra line the desk, their candles burning brightly to provide me illumination. I wish this castle had more elvenlight like the capital and Volundr or the light crystals in Kashran. They are so much safer, and I won’t have to be afraid of burning the curtains.

It’s only been two days since Rainer and everyone left. I’m almost done with the book he gave me. But I don’t have to worry. More are coming soon.

You will have your Nameday presents before the end of the week.

I finish my lentil soup and set the bowl aside.

Hide…

The Children of the Night are calling me. I shake my head, refusing their wicked invitation. I promised Rainer I’ll behave.

But they’re not coaxing me to play. They’re whispering something else.

Hide, Rhianelle.

Light footsteps crunch outside the door.

I smile at the prospect of playing hide and seek with Jessica and run towards the bed.

They will find you under the bed, the voices warn. Pick someplace else.

The curtain might be a great hiding spot but it’s too late to get behind it now. I climb up the wooden cupboard as quickly as I can and hide behind the glass globe decoration.

The door creaks open and a maid steps inside carefully. It’s not Jessica. I think this red-wine-haired girl is her friend.

I swallow my startled gasp when someone hustles her inside roughly.

It’s Governor Graysen…

He enters the room dressed in full court attire. Three guards enter with him, crowding the small room.

“Where is she?” he asks to the cowering girl in front of him.

“I sent her to bed and locked the door, I swear,” the maid says, her voice fearful. I hear the smack of the whip and the sound of her whimpering in pain.

“Is that so…?” A lighter voice fills the air. It belongs to the lady of the house, Graysen’s wife. She pads into the room in her deep ruby dress, her curled ringlets of gray hair properly styled as if she is expecting a dinner or a meeting with someone important.

“Do you know how much she is worth?” she asks again, inching closer to the young maid.

The girl shakes her head, more terrified at the sight of the governess than her husband.

“The traders are willing to pay us ten thousand worth of silver and gold if we deliver her,” the lady tells her. Without warning, she slaps the maid on her face.

“I want her found,” Governor Graysen barks at his guards. What are you waiting for? Move. Now!”

Fear floods my veins at the order. They’re selling me to the slavers?

No. No. No.

That can’t be.

I want to see my family again. I don’t want to be shipped away to a faraway continent. My heart is galloping like it’s trying to escape my chest.

Calm down, I tell myself.

Loren and the twelfth regiment will never allow that to happen to me. I force a breath through my teeth and climb down the wooden cupboard slowly.

The Twelfth’s main post is just below my room. I’ve memorized every walkway, every passage, and every room of this dim and dreary castle. Finding my way will be easy. I just have to make sure I don’t get caught.

I wait until not a single chatter or footstep is audible to make my move.

Grant me a safe passage to find the knights of Volundr. I pray to the gods before stepping out of my room.

The governor and his guards have all disappeared from the hall. There’s no one guarding the staircase either. I sneak as fast as I can down the passage, ignoring the lightning pulsing down my calves, telling me to slow down. Ripples of relief go through once I make it safely down.

It’s not that far now…

My heart leaps with every step I take to their room. The world flips as I trip from the slippery floor.

I stretch my hands to brace my fall, but by the gods… it hurts. My arm throbs with a dull ache but the rest of me appears intact.

I raise my head and shudder from the growing, vibrant red pool in front of me. What in the world… is this?

It’s streaming from the other end of the hall. From the coppery scent and color, I know it’s blood. Yet I can’t help but follow the trail slowly.

A long object glistens in the bloody path. This is Loren’s pipe… I run faster toward their room.

No, no, please Gods, no.

The deities answer my prayers and deliver me safely to my knights.

Whatever remained of them.

Bodies scatter all over the hallway in red and black pools. Most of the knights lay headless, some torn in half, some simply a steaming pile of flesh. I look at the sunken faces of those who are whole, their mouths agape with whatever horror they witnessed before their death.

I recognize the stag regalia of the captain and approach him slowly. Loren lays unconscious on the floor, blood flowing freely from the gaping wound on his chest.

Sorrow replaces the hope I had earlier.

They’re all dead.

I can’t look away from the carnage right before my eyes. I try blinking again to make sure this is just a nightmare. But everything remains the same when I open my eyes.

The knights still lay in pieces. Loren is still dead.

Raw fear roils through me, unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I slump down on the floor as I stare at the broken bodies before me.

This can’t be happening. The twelfth battalion is one of the best warriors of Volundr. My heart strains to the point of cleaving.

A small sob comes out of me. I know I’m supposed to be strong, but I’m so scared. What am I going to do now…?

The pile of corpses in the hallway stirs. “Princess Rhianelle…”

A voice calls for me, dry and rough as sandpaper. But I recognize it.

“Oscar!”

I run to the knight quickly. He leans on the wall with his eyes half closed, his breathing labored. His armor and his cape are soaked with blood.

“The governor betrayed us,” he says, agony lacing his voice. His eyes are haunted as they lock on to mine.

“I know, I know.” I nod, kneeling beside him. The jutting bone on his leg is terrifying to look at. I give my heart three seconds to take in the horror, the grief, the fear, and everything. Then I quickly move to one of the soldiers to rip a small part of his cape, using it to bandage Oscar’s injured leg quickly. I’ve seen Lady Deirdre do it many times. She even let me practice on my dolls sometimes.

The knight hisses in pain at the movement. For a few breaths, he just stares at me, letting me work.

“I gave Jessica my letters,” he suddenly says between his grunts.

“You did?” I ask with a small smile. “What did she say?”

Oscar lets out a short laugh. It’s totally inappropriate given the situation. His injury is likely worse than it looks.

The knight drags a hand over his hair and shakes his head. “She can’t read.”

I lift my head to look at him. “What?”

“Jessica can’t read,” he mutters again, wincing from his wounds. “Just like the rest of the children in this poor village.”

Oscar gazes heavenward and sighs. “It’s sad, isn’t it?”

It is.

“Did you confess anyway?” I ask, tying the bandage tight.

The knight reins in another grunt at the maneuver. “I did.”

“Good job, Oscar.” I smile at him.

Relief dances in his bright brown eyes. It completely vanishes the moment a faint whistling sound reverberates down the passage.

Every muscle in his face goes taut. Oscar is a knight of Volundr. He doesn’t get scared easy. But right now, he looks like someone who had just seen a monster.

The knight places his hands on my shoulders and turns me to face him. “He’s here.”

“Who’s here?”

Fear and pain tighten his face. I can feel his hands trembling.

“I’m not sure. But I believe he’s someone they called the Shadow Fae,” he finally answers with a slow exhale. “He’s Eirik Bloodhound’s best bounty hunter and one of his Masters of the Hunt.”

Oscar gestures to Loren and the others with a jut of his head. “He’s the one who did this to us.”

The Shadow Fae killed them all…? Even the skillful and experienced Loren?

All right, now I’m scared.

“You may need this,” he says, sliding a small knife into my pocket.

The whistling sound draws closer, as if it’s just around the next corner.

“What are we going to do?” I ask, panicking a little.

Oscar smiles as he places a helm over my head. It’s way too big for me but he insists on putting it on. I’m glad it’s not as heavy as it looks. “Run from this place, Princess. I’ll hold him off for as long as I can.”

“I can’t leave you here!” I say, looking at the corpses in the hallway. I don’t want Oscar to be one of them.

The knight follows my gaze to his fallen comrades. “Their death would be for nothing if the Shadow Fae catches you. I’ll buy you some time. Hurry.”

“No!” I refuse to move.

Oscar lifts his bloodied hand to cup my face. “You must survive and live, no matter what. Do it for us.”

My eyes sting and I begin crying. Oscar hooks a thumb and forefinger around my chin to lift my face.

“Hey… I’ll be right behind you,” he promises, caressing my cheek to wipe my tears. His eyes gleams with sincerity but his words sound like a lie…

Light in the hallway flickers and dies one by one.

“Go now!” he urges, and I listen to him this time.

I sprint down the corridor like I’m being chased by Judge. My muscles burn but I keep moving forward. A bone crunching sound filters through the air and I almost turn around.

“Keep running!” Oscar yells at me.

His sharp voice snaps me from my intention. I run and I run and I run.

“Save yourself, Princess…” The knight’s voice sounds worn and in pain. My heart twists with guilt as I continue bolting down the passage as fast as my legs can carry. Then I sense something in my chest. It’s a strange awareness… like seeing a candle being snuffed out by the wind. I have a feeling that Oscar is gone.

I want to run faster but my feet are short and my lungs are useless. Something dull tackles me from behind and I fall to the floor, face first.

Darkness slithers from above, pinning me to the ground.

“No!” I struggle from its grasp, kicking and screaming. The inky shadows snatch me easily, bringing me to its master.

A cloaked figure stands before me, wearing a wooden mask. Dark vines swirl around him like snakes, and I know now why Oscar called him the Shadow Fae.

He moves closer towards me.

I’m not sure if it’s the shadows or my own fear immobilizing me right now. My limbs are locked and stapled to the ground as I stare back at the fae.

“What do you want?” I ask.

He doesn’t bother stating his intention before his shadow tosses me to the glass cabinet.

If Oscar didn’t put that helm on my head, I would have fainted from that blow. He flings me towards the wall next. The pain is near blinding and I struggle to focus.

Why does he keep hurting me without telling me what he wants?

I don’t understand…

“Is this her?” the figure finally speaks, malevolence lacing his voice.

He throws my broken body into the air. Someone catches it. I recognize him by the acrid scent of his perfume.

“Yes, this is the brat,” Governor Graysen confirms, his voice stripped of all pretense. “I got you now.”

My hair stands on end at the expression on his face. It’s the look of a person who delighted in bringing pain upon others.

“Please… don’t hit me anymore,” I beg him.

Air leaves my lungs when he suddenly kicks me. I fall to the ground writhing in pain. He keeps punching me, leaving no air for me to breathe. “This is for every single time a fucking Wiolant disrespects me in my own house,” he tells me.

I curl into a ball to protect myself.

The governor grapples my head to remove the helm. Despite his struggle, the clasp below my chin holds firm.

“What the fuck is this? Take it off,” he demands.

I shake my head. Not out of defiance, but because I really don’t know how to unclasp it. I feel the impact before the pain as his heavy boot lands on my hand.

“Not so proud now, little Wiolant?” he asks. There is glee in his voice. He’s enjoying this. The governor likes hurting me.

“Enough!” the fae demands.

“What have you done, you nimwit,” the fae snaps in anger. “Now how are we supposed to send a letter to her uncle?”

The fae lifts me into his arms to inspect my broken hand.

Graysen’s face turns pale white like a ghost. “She’s just a child. It’s not like she can write anyway—”

“You fool,” the fae chides. “She’s not an illiterate kid from your village. Children in the capital can read before they turn five.”

How would a fae know that?

As if he can read my mind, he leers to me. “Isn’t that right, little Princess?”

The tinge of cruelty in the question makes me scared. So scared. I lower my gaze to the ground quickly.

Then I suddenly remember Oscar, Loren, and all the knights in the twelfth division. They’re all gone now. And it’s all because of this fae. My sadness morphs into anger.

I punch the fae straight in his face.

The wooden mask and I both fall to the ground. I stand up to look at the fae dead in the eye. But I am not looking at a fae at all.

Why does this cloaked figure call himself the Shadow Fae?

Before I can formulate my next thought, the governor slaps the back of my head over the insolence. Pain ripples through my temple and I nearly black out.

“It’s fine. She’ll be dead soon,” the figure dismisses, picking up his fallen mask to wear it again. “You have several days before the Wiolant’s cavalry arrive in Varyndor. I’m sure they are expecting a report from their twelfth division by the time they arrive in the war camp.”

The fae’s voice drops lower as he passes a satchel to the governor. “Use this quill to forge a letter. It copies the handwriting of the people who have used it. I’ve stored all the input from the bastard knights of Volundr.”

I don’t even want to know how he got them to do that.

“Enchanted faerie items sure are useful.” Governor Graysen gives a mirthless laugh.

I keep myself small and quiet through their entire exchange. I don’t want the governor to slap me again. It’s painful. I think I chipped a tooth on that last hit.

“Rainer Wiolant is sharp… perhaps it’s best if we don’t manipulate something from his niece. It may come out as inauthentic,” the strange, cloaked figure contemplates.

“Yes. I agree,” the governor says quickly, glad that his earlier mistake is quickly forgiven.

“We can only keep this bluff for so long.” The figure gives Graysen another look through his mask, his tone stern. “The general will want to hear something from his niece. Make sure everything is finished by the end of the week.”

I try lifting my head to look at the person who calls himself the Shadow Fae again, but my neck feels stiff.

The governor releases a sigh of utter relief once the figure leaves..

“You heard him. We need to ship her tonight. Take her outside,” he orders his guards.

One of them gathers me as per his master’s command. It’s too painful to open my eyes after that beating but I keep counting the steps silently in my head. I need to know where they’re taking me.

When my vision returns, I find myself outside of the governor’s compound, still in the company of Graysen and his guards. But there are more people now, watching us. I can ask for help. My heart pounds faster inside my battered body.

A clergyman trails behind the governor. I recognize him from the dilapidated temple we visited back in the poor village.

“Please let me heal her,” he begs to my captors.

“Out of our way!” One of the sentries pushes him away.

“Wait.” Lady Graysen raises her hand. She strides towards us, her ruby chiffon dress shifting at the movement. I flinch as she touches my cheek with her bony fingers, studying me beneath her honed stare. “Let him heal her face. The girl at least has to be recognizable for the trade.”

The guards do as she bids and allow the priest to scramble towards me. Warmth seeps into my skin as he passes Anastarros blessings into me. He mends the worst of my injuries first, the bones, the muscles and tendons, secretly defying Lady Graysen’s order.

I lift my head to look at him. Thank you.

The priest’s technique is smooth, but he is a malnourished villager from Feywildra. There is not much he can draw from the God without losing his own strength. Guilt smears across his face as our gazes lock.

Help me, I plead with my eyes.

“We shouldn’t do this. The Wiolants will burn down the village if she doesn’t write to them,” he warns the lord.

“He has a point,” the governess says, turning to her husband.

“Fuck the village,” he barks at her. “We can start a new life in Tiamat with that kind of money.”

“Think of the children in the village,” the priest tries again. “Rainer will kill everyone when they find—”

A sharp gasp of air escapes his lips. The priest’s knees buckle as he struggles to breathe. My heart plummets at the sight of the black feathered arrow lodged in his throat. The governor smiles, kissing the crossbow in his hand.

“I’ve always hated your sermons, old lad,” he says, kicking the dying elf. I watch helplessly as life slowly leaves the priest’s eyes.

The governor and his wife move towards the carriage. My heart stumbles when I see the large barrel sitting on the ground. They’re going to seal me in that. I increase my effort to wriggle free from the guard’s hold.

It’s no use. He’s too big and strong. My kicks only seem to annoy him. Something hard tackles my captor, almost toppling him to the ground.

“Let her go!” Jessica screams, throwing her entire weight on her punch. It knocks the guard over and destabilizes him. His hold on me eases and I finally have the chance to reach for Oscar’s pocketknife. I slash the blade deep into the sentry’s thigh. He releases me from his iron grip and I run into Jessica’s arms.

“You goddamn brat!” he curses, trying to stop the bleeding vessel on his thigh. “What have you done?”

His suffering cries reach the governor’s ear and the rest of the guards. They turn their attention towards us, eyes alert and deadly.

I take shelter and hide in Jessica’s heavy maid dress.

“It’s going to be all right. Everything will be all right,” she mutters quietly in my ear. “But when I tell you to run, you must go in that direction.”

I look at the dark path she gestured to. It leads straight to giant trees of Astefar.

“I’m scared,” I say to her.

She smiles at me. “Don’t be.”

My fear eases a little when I notice Jessica is wearing a breastplate and gauntlets over her dress. She’s even armed with a long sword. Jessica must have taken them from my knights.

It’s a slim chance to escape these people, nearly impossible. But at least I’m not alone. We slowly back away from the governor and his approaching sentries.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the governor asks, his face contorting with pure wrath.

Jessica blocks him from getting to me. “I won’t let you hurt her.”

“And who are you to say what I can or cannot do?” Governor Graysen asks her, brows furrowing into a deep frown. He staggers backwards when Jessica swings the long sword inches from his face.

“What are you afraid of? Can’t you see beneath the armor? That is just one of our maids,” his wife answers with vague disgust. “Have you lost your mind, girl? You should be in the kitchen scraping pots.”

Jessica pays no heed to her taunt and whispers to me, “His guards will surround us soon. When I say run, you run as fast as you can.”

I peer at our threat from the safety of her dress. Dozens of sentries are creeping from the bushes to encircle us.

“Don’t come near us,” Jessica warns, waving the blade again. She can barely lift the long sword with her skinny hands.

The governor and his guards laugh as they watch her with amusement.

Without warning, Jessica gives me a rough shove. “Now, Princess!”

I don’t think twice as I bolt down the path with every strength left in me. The heavy branches of the colossal foliage in Astefar loom closer with every step. All the air in my lungs is spent, but I keep charging onward. I know I am just one step from being captured by the guards racing at my heels.

I keep barreling towards the tree line until I hear the swoosh of arrows behind me and look over my shoulder.

Jessica is still standing right where she was. She never intended to escape with me. Scarlet splotches spread over her back as she crumbles to the ground.

No. No. No…

Not her too…

She turns around and raises her head to look at me.

Go, she mouths wordlessly. Be brave.

I want to run back to help her, but I remember Oscar’s words.

You have to survive, no matter what.

“Get her before she reaches the tree line,” the governor bellows like a mad person.

Tears well in my eyes but I refuse to let them fall. “I have to live. I have to live. I have to live.”

Yes, you must live. An invisible hand guides me to continue my sprint. Don’t let them catch you.

“It hurts,” I cry out, drawing a shallow breath. “I think I have some glass pieces buried in my feet.”

The voices do not care for my pain. They keep urging me to move forward. Run, Rhianelle. Hurry.

And so, into the woods I go, deep into the heart of the forbidden forest.