Damor eyed the orc encampment from the comfort of his cushy tent. This was far better than the palanquin he'd had when he served his former queen. The elves understood comfort and luxury, and Queen Ambrielle gave him everything he wanted—as well as some things he hadn't even known to ask for. There was incense to mask the smells of the wild, a bell to call servants to his side, and an unending supply of honey wine.
"Today we will go into the orc camp and ask to speak to their leader," Queen Ambrielle said. "We must assess the situation before taking control. Unlike humans, I won't come in with my sword drawn. I hope you are amenable to doing things my way, Damor."
She used his true name when they were alone together, presumably as a reminder of the power she held over him. Damor tolerated it, though it added to his deep-seated anger.
He dipped his head in agreement. "I think your way is more subtle and will be far more effective than the ways of my former queen. I appreciate the elven aesthetic in all things." This wasn't empty flattery. He truly meant every word.
Damor also knew how clever and manipulative the queen was. She didn't want to be friends with the orcs; she wanted to conquer them. Damor appreciated her methods, but he wasn't stupid enough to think he was special. She wanted something from him—and he had to find out what it was before he unknowingly gave it to her… and became disposable.
Damor had his reasons for serving the elf queen, and they had very little to do with helping her take control of the orc lands. He wasn't sure how much she knew about the orc kingdom. There were six other orc cities, some more powerful than others. With Agitar destroyed, it was only a matter of time before a leader arose from another city. Queen Ambrielle might have plans to take control of a broken Agitar and its defeated orcs, but would she be able to stand up to an organized force from the other orc cities?
"Have you seen my daughter since yesterday?" Queen Ambrielle asked.
Damor tapped his finger to his chin, as if he needed to think about Nemia's whereabouts. She'd left in an angry huff after his repudiation of her. He didn't blame her. Maysant didn't belong in her mother's retinue. As for where she went, Damor had no idea. He could have used his magic to locate her, but he still wasn't back to his most powerful levels. More importantly, he didn't care. Maysant was a distraction; it was best she was gone.
"I haven't seen Maysant, but I'm sure she'll be back soon. I think it was hard for her to see us join forces." Damor kept to the truth, if a censored one.
"That child. Always running off like a petulant brat. I'm about to give up on her."
"In favor of Kazrack?" Damor asked. He'd had little time to suss out the queen's true feelings for her son. Kazrack had tried taking control of the orc empire on his own and had failed miserably—though to hear him tell it, if not for the xarlug getting in his way, he would already happily be their new leader.
Queen Ambrielle snorted. "My son thinks too highly of himself. It is obvious to me that they both need more education before either can rule."
Damor smiled, doing his best to appear genuine. "Then your two children will learn from the best."
"Three."
"I'm sorry?"
"I have three children."
"I had forgotten. Tell me, where is your third child?"
Queen Ambrielle sighed. "She is off on her own journey. I suspect she may be the most intelligent of the three. Unfortunately, her intellect took her on another path. I haven't seen her in years. I can only assume she's alive because I haven't been notified otherwise."
Damor filed this information away for future use. A third royal elven child lost to the wilds of the world. He would make it a priority to find her and learn as much as he could about her. "Then I suggest we make our move today."
The queen stood. "I'm going to call for my horse. How would you like to follow?"
Damor tried to hold back his surprise. Lissa would never have asked him. She would have ordered him to do as she said, whether he liked it or not. His palanquin had been acceptable, as had his ungrateful orc slaves, but he preferred something more subdued. Something that kept eyes away from him, instead of drawing the curious.
"I think if my legs are strapped on, I can ride sitting up on a horse. I only need a guard to walk beside me and help me to mount and dismount," Damor said. "But I plan to remain on the horse at all times. No need for anyone to see the weak human mewling whilst being carried in an elf’s arms."
"It will be odd enough to see a human among elves," Queen Ambrielle said, an eyebrow raised.
Damor reached up and pulled his fingers through his stringy hair. It fell over his ears, hiding the most obvious part of his humanity.
Queen Ambrielle chuckled. "You think that will be enough to fool them? All humans think they look like elves, but really, can you not see the difference? My people fairly glow from the inside. They are beautiful. Regal. No human could ever be mistaken for an elf."
Damor held his anger inside, coddling it as a mother would a petulant child. "Hopefully it's enough to make my presence unremarkable."
Queen Ambrielle reached into a bag she’d brought with her, rifled through it, then tossed a midnight blue cape to Damor. "Put this on. It's befitting a mage and will hide your inadequacies."
Damor pulled the cloak over his shoulders and yanked the hood over his head. It was dark, as he liked it, and yet he appeared as one of them. Not something separate. The ridiculous pink palanquin Queen Lissa had insisted he ride in had made him a source of ridicule. Here, he would blend in.
It would give him the best opportunity to complete his goals.
"Thank you," he said, surprised at how genuine he sounded. He couldn't remember the last time he'd truly been thankful for anything—not even when Nemia had saved his life. Even then, he had reconciled himself to the inevitable. Coming back from the dead wasn't a gift—it was a burden to bear. One he would not squander.
"I will send my herald out first, to assess the situation," the queen said. "The orcs will be happy to get assistance from the elven empire. In case they are not so amiable, my herald is also a trained warrior. We will know soon whether we can march into the orc camp unhindered. Once we do, my plan will go into motion. Soon, I will rule this ruined group of orcs. They will come to love me for helping them in their time of need."
Damor nodded his assent. Her goals were his… for now. As always, he would use those around him to his own benefit until they were expendable.
This elven queen was no different from the others.