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Relian stood with his arms folded, his face plastered with an expression of neutrality that threatened to crumble to a fine dust. He gave an inward snort at the mental image of so dirtying his father’s pristine cream-and-silver study.
The situation was happening exactly as he’d predicted. For the last fifteen minutes, he listened to Talion rant about his supposed apathy toward the unfolding events.
His father didn’t take kindly to the almost certain possibility that he was to bond with a human. Relian hadn’t been able to tell him much beyond, “I am to be bonded, and not to an eivai, but to a human.” From there, his father had cut him off and dominated the conversation.
Of course, it helped matters not that Relian came off as “too flippant despite the seriousness of the circumstances.” He tried not to make light of his binding, but he hadn’t wanted to unduly stress his royal sire with the woe he still felt. His father had enough angst on his golden platter to handle. Alas, this hadn’t stopped his father from reacting strongly.
After finally stopping to take a breath, his father stalked over to him, where they proceeded to stare each other down. Amusement mingled with irritation in Relian’s gut. Talion hadn’t lost control to such an extent for nearly a few millennia. Like any elf of his station, his father had taken to heart only too well what he’d been taught with age and race. Restraint was often a good thing, but it was best done away with on occasion before a person forgot how to do so. Relian was much like his father in this.
Talion had mussed up his pale golden hair in a very un-kinglike fashion, his circlet long tossed off in his agitation. Aside from the differences in hair color, his father wore an almost identical face to that of his. Only their expressions differed wildly right now. He paused in his inspection of his father. Yes, the aggravation and the frustration that burned in his eyes were greater than Relian had seen in many years.
After stomping over to him, Talion grasped Relian’s wrist, seeming to want, no, seeming to need some modicum of emotion from him. “What do you play at? This is no trifling trinket you carry around.”
“I never said it was.”
His father took a deep breath, appearing to finally develop a certain calmness of mind. “There’s an explanation in order. Now.”
A wry laugh exploded from Relian. “An explanation? How I also would love one. But I don’t believe one is forthcoming for either you or me.”
“Stop being facetious. You risk certain insanity or worse if the matter isn’t resolved satisfactorily.” Talion’s voice thundered.
Relian winced. Only his father could make his voice as strong as a crack of lightning. “I am being serious. You exaggerate. New bindings in and of themselves don’t cause bodily harm to that extent. Completed bondings are much more dangerous.” Though he despised it, he nearly quivered at the uncertainty in his own voice.
His father gave a huff. “Much damage can come from an uncompleted or broken binding when it’s left in place for too long. After all, what’s the difference between a bonding and a binding? It is all a matter of degree.”
Though it was strangely amusing to watch his father’s iron control slip, he needed to defuse the situation before it ignited his own temper. He sensed a lull in his father’s tirade and held out a hand. “Peace. I’ll tell you whatever you desire to know.”
Talion’s face returned to a calm mask, and he gave an imperious nod for him to continue. Once Relian related his tale, he watched as a resolute emotion painted itself across Talion’s face. His father had come to a decision. Relian’s heart dropped to his stomach. He could only hope that it was in agreement with his own. If not, he’d have to do some quick thinking.
Shooting Relian an amused glance, Talion spoke first. “You guard those dreams like a lord hoarding his gold.”
Heat crept up Relian’s neck even as relief trickled through him. Talion’s mood could switch faster than he could blink. But in this instance, he was happy for it. From his father’s words, he knew he had Talion’s full support for the upcoming days and whatever they may bring. “They’re not exactly appropriate for public consumption.”
“When fate—or the mist, since it seems to be playing that role—brings you together, I just hope your...human appreciates the great regard in which you hold her.”
Relian stiffened. What was his father intimating? “Though she’s human, I give her the respect she deserves as my affianced, nothing more.”
“If that’s what you want to tell yourself.” Talion laughed outright. “You’re a stubborn elf. Add a human woman into the mix, and who knows where the whole situation will go.” He sobered. “I’ll accept her because I must. But we don’t know the state of her emotional health and must proceed with care. Humans can be fragile creatures. We don’t want to break her mind. Regardless, we must engineer acceptance of the human and secure some measure of contentment for you. And thoroughly research whether she’s associated with a prophecy.”
Now assured of Cal’s welcome by his father, Relian froze as another thought assailed him. That had seemed a little too easy. Just what was his father up to?
***
Relian tried to relax his posture as he watched the council room door. After two weeks of deliberation, his father had decided to call a meeting to session. This special gathering would be the first to know of his binding.
Though ambivalent about the whole affair, he recognized that they couldn’t hide such news for long. Especially from elves who had centuries or more to hone their perceptiveness. With that thought, all pretense of a polite smile slid off his face. He didn’t enjoy the notion of a skill he prided himself on being used against him, so he sat up even straighter when the council members and advisors started to filter into the room. The breakfast he’d eaten churned in his stomach. By the Green Mountains, everyone would soon know how his life was about to change.
His father sat in the seat of honor, an ornately carved chair of wood that contained scenes of nature. Relian’s chair was to the right of the throne-like seat, as it was his duty and right through not only blood but also for the leadership he provided to their people.
At that moment, Kenhel strode into the room. Flashing a smile, he asked one of the councilors who sat next to Relian if he could have that seat. After the councilor complied, Kenhel sprawled into the chair. He grinned impishly. “Surprised to see me? I wouldn’t have missed this for all the eivain in the world.”
Relian gave a barely audible snort. As a commander, Kenhel was a “sometimes” member of the council and participated in meetings when time allowed. Unfortunately, Kenhel seemed to partake only to increase his torture. “Why would you? You’ve many millennia to flirt with a whole horde of them, so no such bribe could keep you away.”
His easy smile remained. “I’m not sure if that was a compliment, but I’ll take it as one. I’m glad you have such faith in my abilities to achieve such a staggering number.”
“It’s not so much faith in your abilities of persuasion as it’s faith in your blind persistence.”
“Ah, but persistence cracks the wariest of hearts.”
“And sometimes lips.” Relian’s lips twitched, but he quickly suppressed any further motion.
Kenhel laughed outright. “That, too. Smiling lips are much easier to flirt with and mayhap even steal a kiss from.”
Relian said nothing more as other head advisors and councilors closed rank around them, leaving a remainder of the chairs in the circle open for lower-ranking officials.
Once all members seated themselves, Talion addressed his court. “You have my gratitude for responding to my messengers with all due haste. My good lords and ladies, you probably wonder why you’re all here for a last-minute assembly. I have important news about the veil. In a never-before-seen act, it brought Relian—my son and your prince—together with a human woman. Not only that, but it brought them together in its very mists. You may wonder what this...”
Low murmuring broke out among the council. Apprehension gripped Relian so strongly that even though his father still spoke, his words faded away until Relian heard nothing.
“Relian, your hand, please.”
The king's request intruded. Relian blinked, becoming aware of his surroundings again.
He swallowed thickly, sure there was a ball lodged in his throat. Though he’d suspected that his father would support him in such a manner, nothing had prepared him for this moment. Relian shored up his nerves—he had to see this through. The king's open affirmation of Cal would help to smooth the path for Relian in the face of any opposition. Not that many would be brave enough to express but the briefest doubts to either of them, but they wanted to curtail as many possible rumors as possible.
His father also worked under the assumption that while the veil, unfortunately, sought a human as Relian’s bondmate, it must have good reason for doing so. Talion didn't believe that the magic forming the veil, the same magic that protected them and nature, would choose a truly undesirable complete bondmate for his son. Relian hoped his father was right. Would Cal be able to handle all they would tell her—and all they couldn’t? With his station, secrets of state were unavoidable. Until Cal could prove herself fit, there’d be much she couldn’t know.
The whispers and questioning looks from those assembled in the council chamber told him that his moment of hesitation had stretched out for too long. He fortified himself and offered his father his hand. Talion took it, giving him a supportive glance as he slowly drew back the sleeve of Relian’s robe. His father now seemed the tense one if the furrowing of his brow was any indication. He bit back a smile. How amusing to see his sire more atwitter than he was.
Once his father revealed the binding and how the mist had brought it about, many gasps arose. If the occasion weren’t so serious, he’d be tempted to laugh at all the shocked, horrified expressions displayed around the room. Several councilors spoke all at once in a flurry of questions. “To a human woman? How is this possible? Why would the veil do this?”
Talion allowed this talk to continue for a full thirty seconds before he held up his hand to forestall a rising tide of questions. All voices fell quiet, except for one that spat out, “This is a travesty.”
Narrowing his eyes, Relian sent his cousin Eamon a quelling look, while his father raised an inquisitive brow at the vocal elf before speaking. “Is that all, Eamon? It is a travesty only if I say it is.”
Eamon flung his black hair over a shoulder but remained silent. Relian grimaced. His scheming cousin looked too much like him for comfort. But that was the only similarity they shared. Thank the skies for that. Relian’s father and Eamon’s mother had been cousins, and the family resemblance remained strong through that branch. To make matters worse, Relian’s mother had been the sister of Eamon’s father, so he was doubly cursed in being related to him.
The king addressed the room. “We know this news seems dire—the binding of one of our own to someone who is of human birth, not to mention the involvement of humankind in our world, even if it is only one woman. After all, we’ve been closed off from humankind for thousands of years.”
Kenhel gave a whispered sound of disbelief. “Closed off? Is that what everyone is calling it now? Who closed us off but ourselves? We can visit anytime we choose.”
Though Relian shook his head, he didn’t worry that his friend would express this unpopular opinion. Kenhel might have some unique views, but he wouldn’t air them now.
He caught the end of his father’s speech. “It’s a sobering thought in these shadowed times when everything hangs in a balance we cannot quite fathom. But maybe this woman will hold some answers for us. Though we couldn’t find any prophecy regarding her existence in the main library’s prophetic scrolls, we still hold hope of finding one.”
While the assembled council looked none too pleased, they appeared to see the wisdom of Talion’s words and talked amongst themselves. Eamon stayed conspicuously quiet. Smothering a relieved sigh, Relian glanced at his father, who watched the whole scene with a gleam in his eyes.
Talion leaned over to him and said with hushed satisfaction, “Do you hear what they say amongst themselves? ‘Could an ordinary human woman truly make a difference?’ We don’t know the answer to this, but it has opened more possibilities than we previously had. Since it gives them some hope, they feel the compulsion to cling strongly to the notion. Not to mention that the veil seems to sanction your upcoming bonding. Our council realizes it isn’t something to take lightly or ignore. We’ll have to watch a few of our members closely, though. You know who they are. Their compliance came too soon, without quibble. I expected a token resistance at the very least.”
Relian nodded. So had he. But if discounting those individuals who often sought out strife—he shot a look at Eamon—the binding did give the councilors some hope of an answer. Admittedly, they had to wonder what a human woman could achieve that their own people could not. He certainly did. Maybe it wasn’t that simple. Might it not be a matter of guidance rather than achievement? But what could a young human offer to a people who were centuries, millennia, older?
The king finished his planned speech. “We now need to look closely into the various options that the bond might provide if it’s completed. There’s still the problem of his affianced arriving in our world, though the veil may well take care of that for us. Otherwise, we will have to devise a way to retrieve her.”
Relian and his father outlined their thoughts and opinions for the council and asked that the other members do the same. Everyone had the chance to confer his or her ideas during the two hours that the king closeted them in the room. For the most part, the council carefully hid any hostility at the thought of the human woman, but he knew it existed. Body language could only hide so much.
Before the meeting came to a close, the king made his final announcement. “There is to be a celebration tomorrow evening to announce Relian’s binding. The sooner it’s publicly announced, the better. I will require everyone’s attendance with the expectation that you’ll serve as buffers by allaying any negative thoughts that might be voiced. Please tell Relian or me of any concerns that cannot be resolved. Also, please don't discuss the information presented here in any way until the royal announcement of the binding has been given. Your discretion is much appreciated and expected.”
His father swept a steely gaze over all those assembled, and Relian wouldn’t have been surprised if he didn’t add just a tinge of compulsion to his order. While Talion couldn’t force his people into compliance just through the will of his mind, he could offer gentle nudges. As king, he had a stronger grasp of harnessing the magic of Eria than most others of their kind.
Kenhel lost no time turning to Relian and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Without even trying, you’ve achieved the chaos I’ve always desired to create. Well done, my friend.”