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...
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Andor swallowed his anger and turned away, his pupils and their parents trailing behind him. He found himself busy issuing explanations to parents and promising another tournament to the children. Caladon and Bergil were more taciturn than the usual, moving away the targets with the help of Nolar and Bragol, while Findir made sure that the children would each pick up their own arrows and Elia collected their bows to store them in the wooden rack.
The training grounds emptied much slower than what Andor had expected. It seemed that today's events had quickly overtaken whatever curiosity people might have had about yesterday's task. Andor wasn't quite sure if that was actually a good thing or not, given the fact that this tournament might well be remembered as one of his most embarrassing moments as tutor.
"Tell me you aren't brooding, are you?" Andor could feel Elia's lingering gaze on him as they worked side by side separating the damaged arrows that were still worth fixing.
He shrugged, throwing a sideways glance to where Olear strode from one of the food stalls towards Meril and Tin, offering pastries to both of them. Tin bobbed up and down excitedly, stuffing his mouth with the delicacy, Kendra's threats apparently already forgotten.
"Don't let her get to you," Elia said, "you know that she is only bluffing. She isn't the one who decides whom you are teaching."
Andor sighed. "I know, but that doesn't mean that she will stop trying."
Caladon and Bergil approached them, waving good bye to Nolar and Bragol, who had taken a seat at the food stall that served refreshments, and were now ordering drinks, gesturing to Findir to join them.
"It's a shame Tin didn't embed his arrow into that fancy backside of hers." Caladon's snarky remark earned him a smack on the head by Bergil.
"What? It's true!" Caladon grumbled, rubbing the back of his head.
"It's stupid and would have just made everything worse."
"But it would have served her right, that bitter old crone," Elia hissed.
"See, even Elia agrees." A smug grin dawned on Caladon's face. "And that must mean something, because she basically has made an art out of disagreeing with me."
Elia didn't get a chance to fire the retort Andor was sure she had already prepared, because Caladon suddenly pulled out a small bag from his pocket and dangled it in front of Elia's face. "An offering of peace," he said, a twinkle in his green eyes. "Roasted almonds with cinnamon. I know they are your favourites."
Elia narrowed her eyes at him and Andor wasn't sure if this would earn Caladon another smack, this time from Elia, but to his surprise, she took the bag, the corners of her mouth curling into a feline smile.
"Thank you," she said, jabbing a finger at Caladon's chest. "That doesn't mean though that I will stop disagreeing with you."
"No worries." Caladon grinned, his auburn hair gleaming in the autumn sun. "I can handle that."
