For all of Ella's previous complaints about the apparent lack of monarchs in the palace, meeting the King was a daunting prospect.
This was the King famed for his cruelty and sadism when dealing with trespassing humans. This was the King that ruled with an iron fist. A King of death and war.
This wasn't lost on her as she finished the last touches on her appearance before heading out to dinner. Of course, she'd spent her life among the nobility, so while Ella wasn't afraid of accidentally committing a breach of protocol and etiquette, she was still unnerved.
It was simply that his reputation preceded him. She was a human woman, he was a human-hating King, it was pure logic.
Gidden's words reverberated in her mind, reminding her that it was rumoured that he could read inner thoughts and bend minds at will. Catastrophically, she wondered what would happen if she accidentally thought something he considered disrespectful and he took offence.
Stopping her morose line of thoughts with a firm shake of her head, she scolded her mind into submission before giving herself one last cursory glance in the mirror.
Clothed in iridescent plum, Ella's dress was made of heavy, flowing skirts that accentuated her waist with its clinging bodice. The balloon sleeves were cuffed at the wrist, where metallic silver threads decorated it, as well as the collar. It was an exquisite gown that spoke of elegance and sophistication, with its rich colouring making her skin almost glowy, as opposed to simply pale. Ella was once again fascinated by faerie fashion.
Much to Ella's gratitude, Katram had taken it upon her to fix her up for the evening. She'd fussed about her for hours, artfully styling her hair, braiding the top half into intricate braids and letting the rest cascade down her back in a curtain of thick, silvery curls. Katram had been delighted at having someone to attend to, muttering about how there were never visiting ladies or dinner parties, something she seemed to enjoy.
With a last fussy smoothing of her skirts, Ella took a calming breath and made her way out of the room.
"Lovely as she is malicious," Aedion hummed, slinking towards her as soon as she stepped out. He took in her entire form languidly, regarding her with such a devilish, insolent grin that her neck and cheeks flushed.
"Are you always just lurking through the hallways outside my door like a lost puppy?" Ella said, lifting a brow, feeling the urge to lash out, just to stop him from looking at her that way. It made her skin prickle.
Hypocritically, she took a moment to appreciate his attire, albeit in a much more discreet and dignified manner. As usual, he wore all black. Dark leather boots, trousers and a luxurious, high-collared suede doublet, woven with golden metalwork and burnished gold buttons down the front, the same colour as his eyes. He looked devastatingly handsome, as always, much to her annoyance.
"My my, someone's quite full of themselves. My own bedroom is right over there," he gestured towards the only other door at the end of the dead-end hallway.
A blush crept up her face, and she resisted the urge to wince. Not for the first time, Ella wondered if there was some fae charm to force her to shut her mouth, an ability she was grossly lacking.
"I didn't know that," she said stiffly. "Very well, we should be going then. I don't want to be late," she casually waved off the subject. Aedion seemed amused at her quick change of conversation but didn't comment on it.
"It's called being fashionably late." Aedion strolled beside her at a leisurely step, no doubt slowing down his usual long strides to accommodate for her slower ones as she lightly lifted her skirts to avoid dragging them excessively while they walked through the long halls and stairs.
"That's what someone with absolutely no sense of social graces would say. Very classy, Aedion." She looked up at him only to catch him peering at her with poorly concealed interest.
"If you value your eyesight, you'll kindly refrain from staring," she said hotly, feeling herself flush.
In such a case where a man stared too brazenly at a lady of the court, said lady would swat him with her fan flirtatiously and pretend at coyness.
If fans were used in Faerie, Ella would have shoved it down Aedion's throat.
Aedion only looked up with an expression of mock affront, "I'm deeply wounded that you would assume such things of me, I am a decent man." His devilish expression was anything but.
"I'm sure you were," she muttered, pink-cheeked and acid. "You impish swine."
Aedion only grinned roguishly, not denying anything.
Ella was denied the pleasure of quipping in more tart replies by the sight of towering double doors, flanked by two footmen who greeted them and opened the large doors to the dining room. This wasn't the usual one they had their meals in every day, this one was grander, no doubt used for entertaining guests.
It was a circular room with high vaulted ceilings towering overhead, illuminated by dozens of candles bathing the room in golden radiance. Enormous windows gave way to a magnificent view of the turbulent, choppy sea. It was probably a stunning vision of beauty in the morning, with the light cascading and the view of the neverending coastline. Now, Ella could hear the crashing of the waves against the sides of the cliff and breathe the briny air wafting through the windows, making the curtains flutter lightly.
The dark wooded table was placed for three, and at the head stood the King.
Ella recalled thinking that Aedion's power rolled off of him like unrelenting waves, strong and physically palpable. Now, she understood why Gidden said this was likely the most powerful King in Faerieland.
If Aedion was a wave, then the King was a tsunami.
He was a statuesque man, everything about him screaming his imperial blood, from his impeccably tailored slate-grey tunic, prominent high cheekbones and brows, to his hair—close-cropped and luminously white as the freshly driven snow. The man was solemn and imposing, regarding them with guarded interest as they approached him.
Ella felt the need to straighten her spine, compelled by the sheer power that poured from him. This man had the regal grace of a ruler, but the stance of a seasoned warrior, his mere presence commanded respect.
"Good evening Callan," Aedion drawled. "Took you long enough to get here, lovely of you to join us."
Her eyes widened and she swallowed a gasp. Did Aedion have a death wish? She couldn't believe he'd have the gall to speak to the King as if he were a chummy old pal. Not only had he addressed him by his first name—no title or honorifics whatsoever—but he'd also mouthed off.
Nobles never referred to each other by private names in public, not even siblings or intimate friends. Certainly not an advisor speaking to a King. It was a shameless breaching of etiquette. Speaking to Harrion in such a way would have been unfathomable, even in private; she could still remember the harsh slaps that left her teeth rattling and her cheeks smarting for days the times she'd decided to mouth off even the slightest bit.
Any underling that had the delusional impulse to do such a thing, in front of guests for the matter, would have found themselves in hell.
Much to her utter astonishment, the King didn't flinch even the slightest bit, nor had he demanded to have Aedion removed for his insolence. Instead, he regarded Aedion with an impassive, only slightly irritated expression that was mostly begrudgingly amused.
"Good evening Aedion, it's nice to see you're chipper as ever. I trust you had no issue during my absence."
"None, of course. You know I practically run this place," Aedion jested, grinning.
Ella still couldn't believe her ears, the utter cheek of him. She'd never seen such a lack of decorum.
"Where are my manners? Callan, this is Elowen, my new assistant. Wen, this is Callan," Aedion gesticulated with his hands as if he were introducing her to an old pal.
Ella lowered into a flawless curtsy, bowing her head. The entire situation was working her mind into loops. "Your Majesty, thank you for graciously having and receiving me. I'm pleased to be in your company." Her tone was the adequate balance between reverential and dignified, perfectly trained.
"Such pleasantries," Aedion scoffed. "Don't buy into it Cal, she's putting on a show, she's not even slightly as charming."
Once again, Ella wished it was socially acceptable to hurl a knife at Aedion's head. Better yet, to have the ground open up and swallow her whole.
"Aedion, behave yourself or you shall be eating dinner with the hunting hounds. Although I'm afraid you might be too uncivilised even for them," King Callan admonished, sparing a glance at Aedion before shifting his attention to Ella.
A small frown flickered over his features, only seconds before it was gone. "Elowen, I'm pleased to meet you. I do hope my High Chancellor hasn't been too much of a bother, but I'm sure he's been hospitable at least." His tone was firm but not derisive or cruel, only sedate.
High Chancellor. She'd known Aedion held a high position, as he'd said so himself and the staff seemed to respond directly to him, but High Chancellor was the highest rank possible. At times, it held even more political power than a crown Prince did. It was the equivalent of being the King's right-hand man. Apart from being the main advisor, it was similar to being a direct link to the King. In case of absence, his word held practically the same weight.
She was briefly amused at thinking she'd kicked the King's right-hand man in the ankle and hurled petty insults at him.
The King's right-hand man had also gone headfirst into rescuing her brother, alone. Even if Aedion had the whole land's soldiers at his disposal, he'd done it himself. He also took time out of his hectic agenda to have lunch with her every day and more so, to annoy her. Somehow, this greatly amused her. Only Aedion would take time off exclusively to be a nuisance.
"I've been very comfortable, Your Majesty, and I've enjoyed my stay so far." She wanted to correct him on her name, but she didn't know how to go about it, so she only let him continue.
The one time Aedion truly acknowledged her name, and he'd chosen to introduce her using Elowen, and not her prefered shortened version.
"I'm glad to hear this. Please, take a seat," he gestured. "I'd love to continue this conversation over dinner."
The table was set for three and fortunately for her nerves, there was a good distance separating her from the King. Aedion sat directly in front of her smiling devilishly, but at least she could discreetly kick him if he became too troublesome.
Ella listened quietly as the King and Aedion briefly spoke of the King's trip; business relating to the borders, a formal meeting with marcher lords, nothing serious or consequential.
As Ella watched them, she couldn't help the niggling in the back of her mind. When she looked at the King and his cool, sharply defined features and mannerisms, it stirred something deep in the depths of her consciousness. It was akin to briefly seeing someone in passing on the street, seeing them again sometime later and being left to wonder if she knew them from somewhere. Some foreign kind of familiarity, an intrigue that made her feel out of sorts. It was a ridiculous notion, as she'd never stepped foot into Gerrathea up until that moment.
Eventually, the topic turned to their odd arrangement. "If you don't mind me asking, how did this come about?" Callan asked Aedion, glancing at her as well.
"Well, it was a terribly interesting situation, I was strolling through the--"
Just as she thought, not even twenty minutes into the evening and he was already going out of his way to be difficult. She nudged Aedion's foot, enough to call his attention. His eyes darted to her and she kept an impassive expression, trying to convey into her gaze that he couldn't mention exactly how they'd come to this situation.
She knew it was bound to come out that she'd vowed herself to Aedion in exchange for his services, but she had no desire for the King to know the finer points of their arrangement, much less about the killing of the orcs. She wasn't foolish enough to forget his opinion of mortals, particularly those who trespassed and committed crimes.
Aedion's eyes flashed with amusement but somehow, he seemed to understand what she meant. "To keep a long story short, I needed an assistant and Wen here needed help. I offered to provide her with the services she needed in exchange for some work."
Callan seemed interested, regarding them both with slightly raised brows as he held his wine glass between long, elegant fingers. "I hope you haven't asked for anything imprudent, Aedion. I'm interested in what this deal entails."
Ella spoke up, "Not at all, Your Majesty. I'm of a human court," she explained, preferring to get that information out of the way. It was tempting to lie, but it was bound to smite back if they didn't make the King aware of her origin. Unknowingly harbouring a human woman who had previously belonged to another court in the midst of the political uproar could be potentially dangerous.
"I've recently run into some difficulty regarding my family and I came to Aedion to request help. In turn, I've offered to work for him, coupled with my previous position in my own court in exchange."
A brief lie—a modification in Ella's eyes. She still wasn't sure if it was wise to mention the nature of their deal, the bargain. It was probably best to pass it off as a typical, mutual exchange, without the bonding magic involved.
The King stared at the both of them, cocking his head as he steepled his fingers. Again, he regarded her with slightly narrowed eyes, a scrutinizing look passing over them.
He had the cunning expression of someone who knew they were lying to him.
A slight, tickling sensation in her head gave Ella the impression that he might have been doing more than looking at them—he was seeing deeper, with whatever powers he possessed.
With a shallow wave of his hand, the air crackled in front of them, staticky with magic. In the middle of the table, like a mirage, the silhouette of a thin, golden chain appeared. A chain connecting her to Aedion, from a point in her ribs, right to his. It flickered in front of their eyes and disappeared, like mist. This time, she couldn't hold in the gasp.
Callan's eyes bore down on Aedion, who was solemn but somehow still had that lazy shadow of a grin. "You made a bargain bond." It wasn't a question, it was an affirmation. There was no way of telling what the King was thinking, nothing in his semblance or his voice betrayed his true thoughts, save for a flickering in his expression that only Aedion seemed to decipher.
"Yes, I did," Aedion answered calmly, taking a sip of his own wine glass.
"May I ask why?" Again, no easily discernible emotion, only coolness.
Ella's spine was so rigid it was starting to ache. She had a feeling the King was much more upset than he was letting on, even if she couldn't figure out why.
"I think you know why," he said coolly. "She needed help, and we... Well, I needn't say more. I won't insult your intelligence." Another pointed look that only they were privy to.
What possible value could Ella have other than serving them as a valuable bargaining chip? Other than her intimate knowledge of grand noble houses, ranking, prominent courtiers and state officials, she wasn't confidential to grand battle plans or strategies. She was a socialite, not a general or a high ranked courtier. She certainly didn't delude herself into thinking Aedion actually needed a secretary, she was well aware that he had at least twenty ulterior motives.
"Furthermore, we're at the brink of a war with humans," Aedion added.
"That doesn't concern us. I have no use for humans," he said, without any disgust or malice, only slight disdain. As if he were speaking of equipment.
Clearly, this was a conversation she shouldn't be involved in. Ella felt the urge to leave, but she stayed rooted in her spot, equally entranced and deeply uncomfortable by the situation.
"It concerns you more than you let on."
"It doesn't. If they come marching in I'll simply send the troops and it'll be over before they even set foot in these lands."
A shiver skittered across Ella's spine. This was the King that shattered entire legions. The King that slew ruthlessly and mercilessly.
The King turned to her abruptly, boring his silver wolf eyes into her own, making the blood in her veins run cold as ice. "I don't consider it to be ruthless and merciless killing if it's in defence of my lands. Perhaps they shouldn't be so foolish as to march their forces into certain death on a whim. In any case, humans are dispensable at best, they breed like rabbits. A few hundred measly soldiers will hardly be a tragedy for them." His flippant manner was dismissive, as if those weren't lives he was talking about.
The blood that had previously run frozen now coursed like liquid fire through her veins, heating Ella like a burning pyre. It gave her ire-induced courage where she'd previously been petrified.
"I'm not one to justify wars, as I genuinely believe there might be a solution involving dialogue, but I can hardly sit here and listen to you speak of my people this way," she said coolly. "Perhaps they feel inclined to defend their lands seeing as recently there was an entire invasion on my court, the multiple attacks on various lands and not to mention the missing children. I rather think anyone would find those enough reasons to be hostile."
Ella knew this was by far the stupidest thing she'd done, talking back to this King, with his obvious hatred of humans. But he'd dared read her mind, invading her intimacy. Then, he'd reviled humans right in front of her, dismissing them as no more than mere pests.
Callan erupted into a short, humourless laugh. In his mouth, sharp, fang-like canines glistened, making him look every bit a wicked wolf. "Humans are truly the most predictable and tiresome creatures. What attacks? Any time anything goes wrong, it always seems to be our fault. I can speak for the majority of fae kind when I say our people couldn't care less about humans and their petty problems."
"You mean the countless humans who are killed or taken for even setting foot near fae realm?" Ella rebuked hotly. "The burned crops, the animals, the outright attack on my court by giant death creatures that ended in tragedy?"
Aedion was steadily and insistently nudging her foot but Ella refused to acknowledge him.
"Oh, hell," Aedion muttered. "Callan, I don't believe--" Aedion was silenced by Callan with a single raised hand.
His harsh, impassive expression bore into Ella's own icy, silvery eyes. "What you fail to understand is fae practices. Mortals claim we are harsh and punish mercilessly because they don't care for our culture. Our people are deeply and religiously intertwined with nature. Nature is our religion, our power and our very blood life. Yet humans believe they can come in and trample our lands, looting, senselessly murdering, blatantly spitting in our faces."
"After all, we're the savages for delivering due retribution? I should hope we'd receive similar consequences if we were to desecrate their temples. I have no sympathy for humans, for they are gluttons for punishment. There is a treaty we abide by, and yet, it is their kind that trespasses and then complains when they meet fair punishment. Once they set foot here, they answer to faerie laws, not human laws, no matter how harsh they seem in comparison."
Pragmatical words spoken with no venom, but not lacking contempt and obvious disregard for mortals.
"As for those alleged attacks, I can assure you I took no part in it. I don't care about those measly lands enough to warrant even the slightest effort. It's an awful shame it has to come down to war, but the noblemen don't seem to care about dialoguing and the King is utterly unreachable, so I don't see how it's my problem if they decide to attack senselessly and get due punishment."
Ella gnashed her teeth, the skin on her palms was faring no better, receiving her puncturing nails. She couldn't say his words about humans disrespecting faerieland and their customs were false, as she knew from first hand how disparaging humans were in face of fae culture.
Mortals coveted their jewels, rare plants, spices, minerals and even pelts, there were entire markets that thrived on goods stolen and earned with blood. In the same breathe, they reviled the fae and considered them savages, animals.
Yet, she couldn't get over how casual he was about justifying war, how he spoke as if he had a personal grudge against all humankind.
"So that's all there is to it," she said. "Senseless death on both sides. What a terribly sophisticated plan."
Callan regarded her with a look akin to displeasure, though his eyes were bright with an unreadable and intense emotion. "Seeing as the neighbouring kingdom already tried dialoguing and wound up with a dead emissary, I've come to the conclusion that sophisticated plans don't work with humans, who seem bent on waging war. I'd want to believe you'd be all too aware of how despicable humans can be," he said. "Seeing as it was them who turned on your family and took your brother."
The utter slap of the sentence was like a rug being pulled out from under her feet, plunging her into the darkness. Ella blinked owlishly as a distorted white noise buzzed in her ears, the pounding of her heart reverberating everywhere.
Callan raised his brows. "You didn't know," he stated. His voice was monotonous, though it was obvious he was surprised by her lack of knowledge.
She brought her eyes to Aedion, who for once appeared grim and solemn. "That's why," she whispered, getting up on her shaky, unstable legs as the dots began to connect in her mind, falling into place like a crumbling house of cards.
That's why he'd been so set on not letting her know Grayson's whereabouts; that's why he'd been severely wounded with iron.
It had been an inside job. A betrayal.
"Wen, sit down please," Aedion said, extending a hand, which she batted away.
Her head was pounding, much like her heartbeat. A muddled sensation echoed through her skull, leaving her dazed and light-headed. The noises around her began to distort, like a rock smashing the water's still surface.
"No," she uttered, taking steps away from the table.
As she tried to reach the door, everything around her swayed, the dizzying sensation intensifying. Black dots swarmed her vision, making her sight and her thoughts blur, thick as molasses.
She barely managed to gasp before her eyes rolled back in her head, her knees buckled and a blinding, pure white light overtook her vision completely.