A Deal with the Elf King (Married to Magic, #1)(98)

Half the day has burned away when I wake. Eldas is the first thing to come into focus. Lilian’s journal is on his knee, split down the middle. Even with his superhuman reading speed, he likely didn’t sleep if he’s that far along.

“You’re awake,” he says without so much as looking up.

“So it seems.” I pull myself upright. Every muscle screams in protest. I could sleep two more days easily. “How’s Harrow?”

“They say he’s stable. The healers cleared up the…what did you refer to it as to them? Fever he got from being out in the rain? Though he has yet to wake.” Eldas’s eyes finally flick up to me.

“I figured you wouldn’t want everyone to know about the glimmer,” I say gingerly.

“So many assumptions you make.” He closes the journal slowly. “You assume I wouldn’t want people to know about my brother being involved with glimmer.”

“Was I wrong?”

“You assume I shouldn’t know.”

“I was trying to respect his wishes,” I say calmly.

“He clearly couldn’t be trusted to have an opinion on what was in his best interest if he was using glimmer!”

“That’s not my choice to make.”

“You assumed”—every time he says it the word becomes more of an accusation—“you could navigate a situation you were woefully unequipped for.”

“Eldas,” I say softly but firmly. His eyes are haunted and tired. Now is not the time to be having this conversation. I take a deep breath and try and start from the beginning. “I didn’t tell you about the glimmer because I didn’t want to betray Harrow’s trust. I doubt he’d told anyone about it—save for maybe Jalic or Sirro, who might be in on Aria’s plot too. I don’t know. If I betrayed the trust he placed in me, he likely would’ve retreated further and kept that secret guarded to his grave.” A grave that could’ve come far too soon if last night had ended differently. “I genuinely feared for him, Eldas. And I was worried that if I gave him reason to push away the one person he’d begun to open up to, that would be far more detrimental than anything else. I’m sorry I couldn’t imagine any of this happening.”

The king purses his lips and looks to the window. He rests an elbow on the arm of the wingback chair he’s sitting in and brings a hand to his lips, as if he’s physically trying to force himself not to say something he’ll regret. “The fae were part of a group called the Acolytes of the Wild Wood. One benefit of them not being able to lie is it can make them easy to interrogate after a point.”

I remember Rinni saying the name once before and ignore his remarks on interrogation. I don’t think I want to know what he means.

“Aria was helping them infiltrate her uncle’s court. That was how they could sneak in with the dignitaries but without the Fae King being aware. I can’t believe I allowed her into my home.” Eldas directs his frustration inward. He doesn’t even seem to be speaking to me.

“What did you do with Aria?” I have to ask. I might not entirely want to know, but I need to know.

“She will be locked up and the key misplaced for a while,” Eldas says, finally. “I might have wanted to kill her then and there. But she’s still the Fae King’s niece; he should be the one to decide her fate. Allowing him to will be a display of good will and will show me if he is serious about our kingdoms’ relationship or not.”

I grimace at the idea of having to pass judgment on a family member—on someone I love.

“And the rest of the group?”

“Those I could hunt down faced my justice.” There’s not a hint of remorse in his voice. Dead, then. I swallow thickly and try not to judge Eldas for what he must do as king. “Hopefully this long-planned plot of theirs being thwarted will push them back for a while. Then, when we end the cycle, that will really put an end to their claims of elf favoritism from the Human Queen and the land dying. What we’re doing will help everyone…even if they don’t know it yet.”

“Speaking of, I think I know how to do it—break the cycle,” I say. He arches his eyebrows. “I think the solution is simpler than we could’ve imagined. It’s a matter of restoring balance between Midscape and the Natural World—like the queen’s garden.” I can see the solution begin to light up Eldas’s eyes as I speak. “I think with something like the fae’s ritumancy, we can assemble the necessary requisites to find equilibrium. Which can make sense—the Human Queen’s magic is more like the fae’s than the elves’…likely because the fae are closer to the dryads and all that.” I believe my logic checks out, since the fae were descended from dryads and the dryads later made the humans, but it’s been a while since Willow and I discussed the history of Midscape.

“Good.” Yet he contradicts his word with a shake of his head as he stands.

“You don’t seem happy.” I watch as he faces the crackling fire in the hearth behind his chair.

“Of course I am not happy,” he murmurs darkly.

My chest tightens. I expected him to be angry. But I didn’t expect how painful it would be. “Eldas, I—”

“My brother could’ve been hurt. You could’ve been hurt.” He looks over his shoulder.