An elf and a mortal. He took her name, but she stole his heart. [𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐑]
Elysse, the realm of the elves, is kept safe by a powerful enchantment. Every forty years it must be renewed through a cruel sac...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Serande resided in a surprisingly modest home relatively far away from the palace, close to the southern edge of Valantes. She preferred to be able to easily venture into the forest or amble along the banks of the Oros. No one had questioned her choice, even if there had been some raised eyebrows among the influential and wealthy, frowning at the fact that such a high ranking official should wish to remain removed from the bustling life at the king's court.
Although this wasn't his first time at Serande's home, he barely had any recollections from when he had been there a handful of times when he was a little boy with Meril, his foster-mother, who used to visit Serande once in a while to replenish her stores as a healer. What he most remembered was the fragrant smell of uncountable herbs, which were spread on basically any surface of her cosy home, be it table, wall or shelf. Bundles of sage, thyme and rosemary hung from rafters, jars with rowan and elder berries stood besides pots of earthenware filled to the brim with dried plants, whose names he did not know. There were baskets full of mushrooms big and small to be found in the corners, a hearth surrounded by a vast collection of pots and pans of brass and copper making up the centre of the main room.
He hung his bow and quiver on a hook near the entrance and followed her until she pointed at a square wooden table along the back wall. With a flick of her hand Serande lit the fire and reached out for a teapot dangling from a hook above the fireplace and got to work.
"Why don't you make yourself at home, while I get us some nice tea going?"
Andor didn't have to be told twice. He sat himself at the heavy wooden table, while she busied herself at the stove. The sudden warmth and aromatic smell took him back to his childhood days and he felt his body involuntarily relaxing, giving in to the soothing ambience of a home that had such an unhurried air to it. After some rummaging she approached him with two mugs, placing one on the table in front of him with an inviting gesture, before taking a seat opposite him, her own cup in her hands.
Andor loosed a long breath and stared for a moment at the steaming dark liquid before him, watching the tendrils of white smoke curl up into the air. He wanted to say that there was nothing more that he could give the Council. He had told them everything, answered all the king's questions, even the most devious ones, laid out every last detail they had pried out of him. Even the kiss had been dissected until it appeared nothing more than a technical link in a chain. He wished that he could have wiped the smugness off the king's face when he had cornered Andor into admitting that he wasn't so much different from the king and his views about humans.
"Please, drink. It is one of my special teas and I am sure it will make you feel better." Serande's voice pulled him from his thoughts. She inclined her head slightly, her golden earrings jangling with the movement.
He wordlessly reached out for the cup, bringing it to his mouth, a scent that was both spicy and sweet reaching his nostrils. For a brief moment the image of Rose drinking from the phial flashed through his mind and he was about to set the cup down again, but he did not want to offend Serande, not when she was the most influential member of the Council and the king's closest advisor. Getting on her wrong side was not something he was keen on. He took one sip, the beverage flowing through his veins like liquid sunshine. A golden light seemed to have been kindled inside his chest, keeping the darkness that had settled deep down at bay.
