"With all due respect—" Ariane shook her head. "No, with no respect, Laurence, are you out of your mind? This elf is dangerous. He deceived you from the start, threatened countless of lives, and he almost killed master Dagon! This man only still draws breath by the grace of queen Idonia for you. He needs to be executed to stop him from escaping and endangering anyone else in this city."
I glanced around the dimly lit room. Gisela, Ariane and Endris all looked at me like I had lost my marbles. Every one of them, each from a vastly different walk of life, was against what I had asked of the queen: to speak with Oleander one last time.
Them all agreeing with each other was a sign I was truly going mad and yet, I couldn't let this go.
I settled my gaze on the two burning torched flanking a fortified iron door I knew led down into the dungeon where Oleander was being kept. If I ever made it there. Especially Gisela looked ready to smack me and drag me away, the same way she used to do during our archery training when she felt I didn't pay enough attention to her lessons. I was no longer a child playing with a bow on the beach, however. Ever since I had entered through the gates of Wildewall, I'd been playing with the future of the Montbow house.
I breathed in and out deeply. "Oleander didn't kill anyone," I stated. "He wounded the guards and incapacitated them with poison. But they're not dead, are they? Neither is master Dagon. Oleander clearly didn't want to hurt anyone, and he must have had a good reason for doing what he did. I need to know what he has to say."
Gisela rolled her eyes. "He's an elven man, Laurence. You can't reason with him."
Endris tensed ever so slightly, but he didn't say anything.
"I can reason with him," I said. "He's an elf, not a monster. Elves aren't monsters. They're just like humans."
"There are monsters among humans too," Ariane snapped. "You see what he did. Even if what you say is true and elves aren't monsters, Oleander is."
"He's not—" I faltered. "What happened at the palace is not what he is like, alright? He has a good reason for all of this, I'm sure. I know him."
Gisela scoffed. "You don't know him, Laurence. You found him at the foot of mount Serpentine's Lake a few weeks ago, naked and uncons..." Gisela trailed off. Her eyes hardened. "He was naked. You knew what he was all along, didn't you?"
I cringed and averted my gaze to the stone ground.
"Laurence." Gisela turned away with a hand pressed to her forehead. "Why, in the thunder god's name, would you protect him all this time? Because he's pretty?"
"No!" I protested. "Because Oleander did nothing to me, and he helped me. He helped our family by giving us his Bleeding Ivy cure. How is it fair to kill someone when they do nothing to you just because they're elven?"
Gisela just shook her head. Wordlessly, she turned and marched across the room to the door leading outside. She stepped outside and then slammed the door shut behind her.
Ariane glanced at the closed door, then turned to me. "Let me ask it this way then," she said. "What good will this conversation do you? What do you expect to hear except things that will hurt you? Oleander wanted the artefact on the staff. He's obviously not going to tell us why now. The guards have already tried. What more do you hope to find here?"
"I just want to..." I faltered. I couldn't describe what I wanted. I briefly paused to steady my voice. "I'm going down there to see Oleander. Afterward, I promise won't do anything that would reflect poorly on our family or you. Will that do?"
"Lord Montbow..." Endris started, his tone uncharacteristically kind. I didn't want his pity. I'd rather have Endris be harsh with me because if even he was being soft, that meant everyone could see in how much discomposure I was right now.
"No," I snapped, shutting Endris up. "I am going and that is final."
Squaring my shoulders, I approached the iron door. The guards had unlocked it for me earlier. My hand shook as I reached for the handle and I knew everyone could see it. Still, I pushed on towards Oleander, who was all alone somewhere in the depths of the dungeon.
I descended staircase after staircase until the air grew damp and stale. They had put him far away, and the entire walk down my mind raced. Oleander had wanted the artefact. If the legends about Sage and Malte were true, elven artefacts held great power. Bt it still wasn't clear to me what Oleander wanted to do with it. Perhaps Ezra Dagon did, but he was recovering from his grave injuries in one of the temples. I hadn't been able to speak with him after the attack.
Despite the stone stairways seeming endless, I wasn't ready when I reached the bottom. There was another iron door with lit braziers on each side. The key the guards had given me burned in my hands. I tried to steady myself and still my drumming heart, but I shook so badly now that I was barely able to turn the key in the lock.
I was scared of what Oleander would tell me, but I was even more scared of having to leave him here, knowing this was likely the last time we'd see each other at all.
When I pressed my hands to the door and pushed, it opened with a whiny screech into a round dungeon with Oleander in the middle. They had manacled his feet and wrists. The chains they'd used on Oleander were so thick I estimated they could've even stopped a bull from escaping.
The guards' threats in the palace hadn't been empty; They'd kept Oleander alive, but that was all. Bruises and welts marred Oleanders' skin. Blood dripped down from his nose to his throat, drenching the collar of his shirt. Silvery hair lay flat and greasy on top of his head. It no longer hid his pointy ears.
"Oleander," I said, my voice cracking just as my heart did at seeing Oleander chained up, face covered in blood.
Oleander looked up with empty, soulless eyes. I walked closer and tried to reach for his face, but Oleander flinched and shifted away from me as far as he could with the chains holding him captive.
"Oleander—" I repeated.
"No," Oleander said. "Don't touch me."
I pulled my hand back fast, as if he'd slapped it away. "Oleander..." I hesitated. Asking him whether he was alright was a stupid question. He wasn't. "What were you doing in the palace? Why did you attack the queen like that?" I eventually settled on. "This isn't like you. I don't understand."
I didn't understand any of it. Last night, Oleander had snuck into my room and even though we couldn't sleep in the same bed and wake up in each other's arms, I was fiercely wished we could. I was falling deeply in love with him. And now we were here, in a damp dungeon, after Oleander tried to assassinate the queen... No, that wasn't what he was doing. That was merely what the guards made of it. Oleander had seemed to only want to use the queen to take him to the staff and the artefact.
Oleander snorted. He raised his eyes to meet mine again. His icy gaze sent chills down my spine. "Isn't it clear by now, Laurence?" he asked. "I needed to be in Wildewall, and I knew you could help get me here. That is all."
"For what?" I called out incredulously. "Only for the queen's staff?"
"Yes."
"And was that what this was about all along? From the beginning, when we first met in the mountains?"
"Yes."
"Did you ever actually lose your memory?"
"No."
I released a shaky breath. "Why? Why do you want the staff?"
Oleander didn't respond this time. He turned away from me, spat out some blood, and glared at the wall. "It was right there, and I..." he muttered. "You have no idea what you just did, Laurence."
"Then explain it to me," I pleaded.
Oleander's jaw twitched. He kept his lips firmed pressed together. He wouldn't even look at me.
I couldn't do this. I couldn't. Abruptly, I stood and started pacing the room. "So what? I was just an easy, eventual ride to Wildewall to you?"
Oleander didn't respond.
"Who are you even?" I asked in my despair.
Oleander scoffed. "I am one of the people you humans stole from," he replied, his voice dripping with acid. "That gemstone does not belong to your queen."
"It can't belong to you either," I countered. "You weren't alive during the time of the war when it was taken."
Oleander's lips twitched. He shook his head and smiled sardonically, as if laughing at an unspoken joke. I didn't bother asking. Oleander wasn't responding to any of my questions with a straight answer, and I still didn't understand any of what happened.
"If you just wanted a ride to Wildewall, you could have befriended me," I said. "It would have been enough to help my family to earn our trust and get your ride. Why..." I hated the way my voice nearly cracked. I shut my mouth, turning away from Oleander so he couldn't see my face.
"I needed to ensure I'd reach my destination," Oleander said behind me. "I couldn't do that alone as an elf traveling in human lands. I needed a cover. No, I needed more than a cover. I needed someone who could command others to not question me. Someone like a storm-touched who demands the respect of people despite not seeing the blatant lies laid out in front of him because he's attracted to me."
I breathed out through my mouth. Oleander's words were like lashings across my skin, but I still couldn't shake the thought that what Oleander said didn't add up. Not entirely.
"Fine, I was just a ride to you," I conceded. "But you were already in the city last night. You didn't need to come to my room."
Oleander paused for a moment. "You were a loose end," he replied. "I would have killed you in your sleep."
In a flash, I remembered the knife on the nightstand. It hadn't been there the night before. I'd thought nothing of it, but now the image of Oleander standing over my bed, contemplating whether to kill me, made my blood turn to ice.
I balled my quivering fists. "But you didn't kill me. Why didn't you?"
Oleander shrugged, making his chains rattle. "I decided to do it after the queen's ball instead, after I had the opportunity to see the lay-out of the palace to break in later. But then my plans changed again when I was suddenly granted entrance to the palace through Ytel's trial and I saw a chance."
Ytel had been stabbed with a knife, just like Oleander had planned to do with me. I briefly shut my eyes. "Did you kill knight commander Ytel?" I asked, bracing myself for Oleander's answer.
"Yes," Oleander easily admitted. "I snuck off in the thick of the battle. I looked for him, and I stabbed him to death."
"And you were going to let the Montbow family take the fall for it," I said with a mirthless chuckle. "Anything for your ride to Wildewall, huh?"
Oleander's eyes narrowed. "He deserved to die, as do all the knights. I would have killed him or another noble regardless. A trial would ensure you needed to travel to the court, regardless. But the ball being organised and the queen asking for me was a fortunate coincidence."
Every word leaving Oleander's lips was calculated and cruel, making me sick to my stomach. I should have admitted Ariane was right that nothing good would come from this conversation and walk away. Instead, my treacherous lips formed one final question.
"Did you ever care for me at all?"
Oleander sighed deeply. "Don't take it so personal. I was simply what you wanted me to be," he said. "A cute little elf to rescue and take home."
"And I was just a stupid disgraced merchant from the coast who happened to be useful," I muttered.
"Laurence..." Oleander was silent for a moment. "Don't pretend this was more than it was, and don't make it more difficult than it needs to be. You will find another pretty young man who wants to warm your bed. The Montbow name is restored now, is it not?"
I looked up at Oleander. He stared at me with a blank expression, and I'd seen enough.I'd heard enough. I didn't recognise this man before me. A man who was still beautiful but cold and stony, like the palace's marble floors. There was nothing left of the Oleander I thought I knew.
I didn't reply. I turned on my heels and walked out of the dungeon, my heart as hollow as all Oleander's smiles and kindness had been.