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The velvet darkness slipped over her as she made her way to bed. It’d been months since her forced march to Gha’alia and in many ways, it was a mixed blessing. In Edric, she’d been free from expectation. Days spent foraging and bartering folded in on themselves in endless repetition. Here on the other hand she had something of a future, however dangerous. She’d overcome Gawloyes—and that was right at the start. Alenca had charmed and repelled and maneuvered her way through nobles, merchants and military personnel, all while braided with the violet ribbon of the Cuthintal; an ancient presence that was her and was other. It was as if the sky and the ground had shifted, yet she continued to walk.
All the while, a hand steadied and lit the path. The Onyx Chandler had delivered her into the unknown; helped her master it. Each day they worked closely, their leverage and will in concert toward a single goal as they unravelled the mystery ahead. As he predicted, he’d begun to depend on her… and with every victory, the attachment grew.
His hands. The thought of those gentle instruments tied her into knots. Even there, the scent of Duliae lingered from their close proximity. Alenca cozied to her pillow as she began drifting. She always searched for his smile in the darkness.
“...your hair aflame, so blinding I can barely look at you…”
Amusing now that such a chaotic moment became charming in retrospect. Alenca remembered the corona of sun about his hair; that singular point of light as the world spun. Not a light of purity, she knew (for Duliae could scarcely be accused of that) but of illumination—the knowledge that within every hopeless situation hid a tiny heart of flame.
With a sigh, she pulled the pillow closer. It was freshly washed, smelling vaguely of lavender. “For sweet dreams, no doubt,” she whispered as her conscious mind slipped away.
The next morning, she awoke to her usual routine. She rose for breakfast, dressed and began to comb her hair. As she did, Skylar dropped in unceremoniously.
“You have a meeting today,” she said. “Good morning to you too,” Alenca replied with just a hint of a smile. Selund’s disposition was often a front. Sometimes it was to protect Alenca. Sometimes it was to protect herself. Perhaps it bothered the woman to know that however unflattering, the two of them had some common ground.
“I’ll be there shortly after breakfast. No use scheming on an empty stomach,” she teased. Skylar nodded. “Lonre will be by in the afternoon. I was told to make sure you’re presentable.” She said, heaving a wrapped package onto the bed. Alenca descended upon it. “From Duliae?” She asked.
Skylar hesitated for a moment, reading her expression. Her mouth curved into a frown. “Yes,” she said, almost in irritation. “Who else?”
“What is it?” Alenca asked her. These outbursts were common, by now. It was clear she had something to say.
“I just feel badly for you,” Skylar replied curtly. “That’s all.” Alenca felt the shadow of unease. “Why?” She pressed.
“Well, humans breed…. I mean, humans need companionship right?” Skylar said. “It’s a shame, honestly. I guess these gifts from Duliae are the closest you’ll ever get.”
At that, she lingered just a moment more before ghosting out of the room. That level of casual cruelty was unusual even for her, but Alenca wasn’t able to think. The pain of it was a dull lance. “Of course,” she murmured.
No elf would ever be interested. Perhaps in Edric, she’d had a chance at meeting someone, but not here. She’d not stopped to consider until out of mortal danger, but these days the ache of it was like a phantom that haunted her mind. Alenca let her fingers pass over the finely wrapped paper with a kind of hopeless bitterness.
“I warned you,” the voice had said.
That night in the evening, she came out polished and presentable. The meeting was well underway. Still, each time she was asked for an opinion, she remained uncharacteristically silent. Alenca avoided the questioning glances, fearing a particular gaze.
“Alenca,” Duliae asked, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
She looked up and the pain ran her through. “I’m fine,” she replied, forcing her mouth into a smile. “Just tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“A lie,” it said. She nodded imperceptibly, responding to the voice.
“Ah,” He replied, eyes narrowing slightly. By now, she’d learned to read his skepticism. “If you’re having trouble sleeping, please let me know. I’m sure the healers could find something that could be of some use.”
“That’s alright,” she nearly whispered. “But I think I’ll be retiring.” Her voice cracked. “Good night.”
✧✧✧
Three quiet knocks against the door. Alenca had just barely managed to slip into her nightdress when they came. “Sorry Skylar,” she called. “Not in the mood right now.”
“It’s me, Alenca,” Duliae’s voice came through the door. “May I come in?”
Her mind blanked. “Of course,” she replied, smoothing some of the creases from her skirt. He slipped into the room, a thin trail of light catching the outline of his golden hair.
“Please forgive my intrusion, but you left in such a hurry.” His generous mouth creased with worry. She felt her heart sink. It wasn’t right to put him on edge.
“I’m sorry, Duliae.” She replied, eyes downcast. He took a step toward her, closing the door. “I realize it was perhaps abrupt.”
“You were quiet tonight,” he continued. “You know you can entrust me with your thoughts. Is there something on your mind?” he said. Slowly, she glanced up to find that violet gaze, lit by the moonlight. She found breath had escaped her. It was as if gravity had stolen it from her lungs.
“I…” she began, faltering. Everything she needed to say was brought to the fore. Love and fear struggled like twin vipers, threatening to poison her blood.
“Tell him,” the voice whispered. “Darkness cannot be contained.”
“Duliae,” she whispered and his name brought him ever closer. His skin, so richly garbed in tyrian purple was nearly bloodless in the midnight sun. Alenca took a step, perhaps out of reflex. The distance began to close.
“I admit, I’ve been… preoccupied. Call it a lingering fear.” She confessed. Her gaze dropped. “I suppose your people in jest say that humans breed rapidly.” She chuckled, without mirth. “They couple easily and their lives are short.”
She could not—would not look at him. Fear churned in her gut. “Here in Gha’alia, I will likely live this life alone,” she said, the tears welling in her eyes. “I am a human. At best, a novelty and at worst, a liability. Call it vanity, but it’s a part of the price that I’ve paid.”
Duliae was silent. Alenca continued to gaze at a patch of light on the floor. Her tears broke their threshold. “I’m sorry to think of something so silly at a time like this.”
It took only three steps for him to reach her. When had he gotten so close? Duliae wordlessly wrapped his arms around her and she shuddered. Without a thought, she slipped into his embrace.
She could feel his lips press to the crown of her head. The heartbeat she’d longed to hear was flush against her. Alenca felt heat rise at their proximity. He’d never touched her like this before.
“Duliae,” she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut. The moment was so sweet that she strained to remember; the scent of his clothes, the sensation of her body nestled into his chest. Even if she lived a hundred years, she never wanted to forget.
“So perceptive and yet, you cannot see your own worth,” he whispered into her hair. “You are precious; priceless. You have the eyes of every man on this island—even those that live in the shadow of fear.” Her heart quickened. It was almost surreal.
Alenca withdrew just an inch, searching. Those words imbued her with the courage she’d need. “Even you?” She asked. Her voice was scarcely audible, even amidst the silence of her room.
The sincerity in his eyes left her voiceless. When had he seemed so unguarded, before? “Especially me,” he replied. Deliberate and gentle, he closed that small gap to catch her own in a kiss. His mouth was soft, almost reverent as he tasted her lips, a hum of pleasure buzzing from between them.
Alenca felt the darkness lift from her heart. Her hands traveled the length of his spine, trailing through his golden hair. Duliae chuckled against her, catching her bottom lip between his own. She sighed as he released to kiss her again and again, the now discarded cane lolling somewhere between the floor and the bed. Duliae traced her ears, her neck, the small of her back. Enthusiasm began to kindle in her chest.
He leaned back to cradle her face in his hands. “Alenca,” he said, smiling. His eyes glittered in the light. “You are even more cunning than I thought, to hide your interest so well.”
She grinned. “I was sure it was obvious.” She replied. “Could you not see the way I responded, whenever you came close?”
Beneath the constant self-possession he was still somehow buoyant, radiant. As once before, she could see the crown of light atop his head. “I had my suspicions.” He replied from beneath his hooded gaze. “Still, your admirers were never in short supply. Truth be told, I thought perhaps you might have some interest in the Milirose family. Such a move would have its advantages, to be sure.”
Alenca gave him a playful nudge. “You’re unbelievable,” she said, the grin straining her face. He adopted the roguish expression he often wore as they fenced. “Ah, but I am a practical man.” He gave a mock shrug. “Still, I do what I can to defy belief.”
With a sigh, she pressed back into his arms. “I love you,” she said, with total conviction. He was still for just a moment, before she could feel a sigh escape him. “I love you too,” he whispered fiercely, pulling her into his chest.
“Alenca, my precious one.” He said. “You are the treasure of my heart.”