Erya

THIRTEEN: The White Lady

Erya cocked an eyebrow. "You seem rather enamored of her."

Thaddeus waved her away. "Not like that, my little friend. I simply respect her as a professional and colleague. She has shown a lot of interest in my study of elven anatomy. Besides, she's much too young for me. She's around Fenton's age I believe, not much older than you."

Erya gave an exaggerated nod, and Benjamin chuckled.

Thaddeus's face turned a little pink and he looked away. "Ah, would you look at the time. You had better get ready if you're going to join our king for dinner."

Erya grimaced and stood up. Thaddeus was right. It was 6 o'clock, and she needed to get dressed. In her room, she sifted through her clothes, wondering what would possibly be appropriate for a dinner with the nobles. Most of the clothing that Fenton had found for her was bland, so that she would blend into the background. Somehow she doubted that Emery wanted her blending too much. She was supposed to stand out at least enough for the nobles to see that she was "harmless." Whatever that meant.

Eventually, she picked out a dress that was elegant, if still a little bland. She had been careful to pick out a dress that covered her to her feet. There was already going to be enough staring from the humans; she didn't need the extra attention on her scars. She chose to wear a shawl that, while fairly transparent, would cover the scars on her neck.

She looked at herself hard in the mirror. It shouldn't have bothered her, she knew. The humans would be paying focusing more on her purple eyes and blue hair. But the scars still hurt. They were visual reminders of the day that her entire life to that point had been ripped away.

A knock sounded on the door. "Erya, this is Benjamin. We should really get going."

The elf sighed and tore herself away from the mirror. She grabbed her crutch and board from the wall beside the door and walked out to where her bodyguard was bouncing on his toes.

"We have plenty of time," Erya signed, forgetting that Benjamin still couldn't understand her. Instead she just attempted to look confused and hoped he got the message.

"Not that I want to rush you, but people tend to show up early to these things."

Erya nodded and started walking, Benjamin leading the way. He took her to a part of the palace that she'd never been before. They arrived at two large, ornately carved doors. Two butlers stepped forward and held them open for them.

As soon as Eyra stepped through the door, every head swiveled her way. She froze in her tracks. When Emery had said "dinner with the nobles," she had assumed that there would be at most maybe four or five of them. But there were at least five times that number arranged on two sides of a long table. The silence that met her presence was deafening.

Benjamin tapped her on the shoulder. "I'll be over there with the other guards," he whispered, pointing toward a far corner of the room where a group of humans with less extravagant clothing sat around a smaller table.

As he walked away, the tension that held Erya immobile let up, allowing her to walk. She saw Emery at the middle of the table. He waved and gestured to the seat next to him. His face was unreadable. The other nobles were not so secretive. A few of the younger ones looked mildly worried. The look on others' faces were distinctly unpleasant. However, most of them simply seemed curious.

As she neared the table, she could hear light whispering. She couldn't make out any of the words, though, and it just has the effect of making her even more nervous. She really wished that she had arrived earlier when no one was there.

A butler came over and pulled back her seat. She sat down and he pushed it back in. She was relieved to notice that her place was the only one not set up with silverware.