“Aria is the niece of the current Fae King.”
“She’s fae?” I blink, startled.
“Only half. And her elf side is far more dominant. The current Fae King’s brother was her father, though he died when she was young. Aria was raised in Quinnar with her mother.” Eldas shook his head. “The benefits to diplomacy for not a great deal of risk on our part are part of why I permit Harrow’s friendship with her. We vetted her thoroughly when they first became friends years ago. She’s trouble, yes…” He sighs. “But the sort of trouble Aria can be is beneath kidnapping the Human Queen. Her trouble manifests in misguiding my somewhat impressionable brother to stay out too late or drink too much.”
“Can you be certain?” I can’t help but ask.
“If she was involved in a plot to kidnap you, she would be acting against her family and her own self-interest. If the Fae King was involved, then any standing he hopes to have with the elves is lost. And, Aria looks after herself. Trying to hurt you would severely limit her prospects,” Eldas explains. I consider this. It makes sense, I suppose. And what do I know of Midscape’s politics? Precious little. I’ve been so focused on learning my magic and looking for a way to break the cycle that I haven’t had the chance to dive too deeply into everything.
“If you’re sure,” I murmur.
“If she was involved, I will see to her myself,” Eldas swears to me.
I quickly change the topic, not wanting to think of Aria being torn limb from limb. “The man said something about wanting his land—giving it back. What did he mean?”
Eldas runs a hand through his hair. I watch as the silky curtain falls effortlessly back into place. “When the fae began their infighting, it was years of bloody squabble that spilled over into the surrounding area. There were attacks made on elf settlements when the borders of our land were blurrier than they are now. Most were unprovoked—the fae looting for resources or simply catching our people in the crossfire. That prompted swift retaliation.”
“Retaliation by your father?” I wonder where Eldas inherited his brutal streak from.
“No, well before him.” Eldas stares into the fire. “Eventually, the elves erected a wall—the one lined with fresh water for its entire length.” I remember what Harrow had said about their brother, Drestin, receiving some honorable position on a wall somewhere. “The wall was an effort to keep the fighting out. But when the dust began to settle and the clans grew weary of their wars, it was discovered that the wall had encroached upon a large swath of formerly fae territory.”
“And now they want it back?”
“They have for centuries. But by the time they made their claim clear, our people had long since settled on the land. Even if we gave it back to them, it’s uncertain who would take it and who would rule. The fae delegation that was here arrived to discuss absolving the tithing to enter elf territory for the fae—they feel that if their ancestral land couldn’t be returned, they should at least be able to enter it freely. But after today, I doubt I’m going to ever—”
“Don’t let today change things,” I say quickly. “That man paid for his crimes. Unless he was acting on behalf of the Fae King…don’t let all of the fae people suffer because of his choices.”
Eldas studies me so intently that I shift and pull the blanket tighter around me, as though I might guard myself from his probing stare. “You would have me not turn them away?”
“I would have you rule fairly, with strength, and with honor.”
A tired smile curls the corners of his lips. “You remind me of her, sometimes.”
“Who?” I imagine some lover he gave up before I entered the castle.
“Alice.” Certainly not who I was expecting.
I clutch the blanket tighter. “You must’ve known her well, didn’t you?”
A shadow crosses his face and Eldas shakes his head, as though he regrets saying anything. I can feel him retreating mentally well before he retreats physically. I watch as he stands, fighting the strange urge to pull him back before the fire with me.
“You should get some rest,” he says softly but firmly.
“Eldas—”
“I’ll see you in the morning to practice your magic.”
“But—” I don’t get to finish. He’s out the door, retreating with a haste I’ve never seen from him before. I look to Hook, who gives a low whine and tilts his head at me in response. “I don’t understand him either.”
The wolf stands, stretches, and then comes to sit where Eldas just was. I lean against him for support and the beast gives a soft huff. But he doesn’t move. Hook stays even as I fall asleep on his furry shoulder.