The Shadow Walker

88. Alliance Proposal

When Lachiel was safely out of the throne room, Thranduil sighed and moved down the stairs with the grace and poise of a lion. "Let us go to my private study. It seems we have more to discuss than I realized."

I nodded and followed him to the back of the throne room. I didn't dare breathe a word; Thranduil almost seemed willing to talk out the situation, maybe even come to an agreement.

He walked to a dark corner and knocked on the wooden wall. A panel slid back and to the side, revealing a hidden door. Thranduil walked through and motioned for me to follow.

On the other side was a wide hallway. The decorations were minimal, but elegant, lending this area a particularly noble feel. Two guards on either side of the door eyed me warily.

"She's with me." Thranduil's tone booked no argument. I really needed to learn how to do that. Thranduil strode down the hallway, and I scurried after him. He stopped in front of a large, carved door, and opened it. "After you," he said, standing back.

I hesitated. Was it a trap? Would he murder me in a hidden wing of his castle? Surely not...?

He rolled his eyes. "I too wish for peace, Amariel, and regardless of how poor or inexperienced a queen you may be, I doubt your kingdom would view an act of violence with kindly thoughts."

I snorted and walked past him into the room. "Um, thanks?" The study had a fireplace with couches arranged around a low table, which held a crystal pitcher of wine and several wineglasses. To the left sat a large desk with a large upholstered chair, and behind that were rows and rows of books.

"You're quite welcome." He came in and closed the door behind him, and motioned toward the fireplace setup. "Have a seat. Would you care for a glass of wine?"

As if he could fool me into getting drunk! "No, thank you." I sat on one of the plush sofas. Thranduil poured himself half a glass of wine and gracefully sank into the cushion on the opposite end. He placed Lachiel's necklace, and the pearlescent key, on the table, and we both gazed at it for a long moment.

"I spoke the truth when I said I knew nothing of your key's existence," he said finally. "I still am not entirely convinced this is the item you speak of. Lachiel has worn this piece for several decades."

"Like..." I did a quick calculation, "...three and a half?"

Thranduil's brow furrowed, and he glared at the table in thought. "Perhaps."

"Because that's when the key went missing."

Thranduil gave me a suspicious look. "Why are you just now looking for it?"

I huffed and sat back, letting my head rest on the cushion. The crown was really doing a number on my neck. "Because my stupid councilors thought I'd stolen it. And then for all those other years...I don't even know."

Thranduil gave a single snort of humorless laughter. "That moment when we realize our councilors aren't necessarily there to help us, and invariably have their own motives and schemes?" He sipped at his wine.

"Yes!" I exclaimed, pent-up frustration leaking into my exasperated tone. "'Yes, Your Majesty, you'll be eating breakfast with us for the indefinite future.' 'Oh by the way, Your Majesty, we're marrying you off. No matter that he's half your age and can't think with his own brain; you two will make a fine match.'" I threw my hands into the air in complete aggravation.

Thranduil laughed, startling me. To my surprise, his tone and expression held no condescension, only genuine amusement. As best I could tell. "Your simplistic view of politics is both refreshing and entertaining," he said. "I find myself empathetic—my advisors have gone to unnerving lengths, attempting to haggle me into remarriage."