Page 8 of Elven Oath

"Forgive the interruption," the King says, waving off the incident as if it were nothing. "My daughter is... impulsive."

Daughter. That takes me off guard. She isn’t some servant or forgotten noblewoman. She’s the King’s daughter. A princess.

But even so, he dismissed her as if she were no more than a child playing in the dirt. There was no explanation given, no attempt to involve her in whatever diplomatic matters were taking place here.

I supposed that was typical of the Elfkin. She was, after all, only a female in their eyes. And yet... there was something about her, something that stirred a strange curiosity in me.

As the King and my companions continue their formal introductions and begin discussing the matters that had brought us here, I find it hard to focus. My mind keeps wandering back to the girl.

Vevina.

There was something about her that had caught my attention and refused to let go. The fire in her eyes, the way she had stormed into the room without a care for the rigid decorum expected of her rank.

She was wild, unrefined, completely unlike the polished women of the court I was accustomed to. And even covered in dirt, she was beautiful. More so than anyone I’d ever seen.

Her blue eyes lingered in my thoughts, like the flicker of something untouchable, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to her than met the eye. The way she moved, the confidence, the defiance. There was something about her that made her unforgettable.

I should’ve been focusing on the negotiations, on the task at hand, but instead, I kept thinking about her. Something about her had struck a chord deep within me, deep enough my dragon half took notice. Though I didn’t understand why.

Maybe it was her spirit, her beauty, or maybe it was the way she didn’t care for the roles or expectations of her station. Whatever it was, I couldn’t ignore it.

And as the conversation with the king continued, one thought kept circling in my mind:

“You’ve not told her yet have you?” I interrupt suddenly.

The King pauses, mid-sentence, his brow furrowing. There’s a brief silence in the hall as all eyes turn to me. His gaze flicking to mine, stern and measured, but I can see the tension behind it.

"Told her what, exactly?" he asks, though his voice carries an edge, as if he already knew what I was referring to but doesn’t want to address it.

"About this agreement. About why we’re here," I reply, my voice steady but pointed. "Your daughter. Vevina. She has no idea, does she?"

The King’s jaw tightens and the weight of the room shifts. Falkor and Drago straighten, sensing the shift in tone as well. The guards along the walls seem to grow more rigid, but I don’t care. I need an answer.

The King sighs, waving a hand dismissively, though there was an underlying tension in his movements. “She is not involved in these matters. There is no need for her to be burdened with such... details.”

Details. The King speaks as if her future, our future, was nothing more than an inconvenience, an afterthought. I clench my fists at my sides, my frustration rising.

Vevina was not just some pawn to be moved in this game of politics and power. She deserves to know the truth, to be told about the ancient pact that had brought us here. About the betrothal that had been arranged without her knowledge.

“She’s at the heart of this, and yet you’ve told her nothing,” I say, unable to keep the edge out of my voice. “You can’t expect this to go smoothly when you’re keeping secrets from your own blood.”

The King’s eyes narrow, his expression hardening. "She is only a female. These are matters for Kings and Princes, not the whims of a young girl who plays in the dirt."

The dismissal hits harder than I expect it to. My chest tightens, anger simmering beneath my skin.

He doesn’t understand her. Doesn’t see her the way I had in that brief, electrifying moment. She wasn’t just some naive princess to be kept in the dark.

She was a fierce woman with a flame that wanted to burn bright but tapped down by those around her.

And she was my betrothed, though she didn’t even know it.

The King once again waves off my concern, quickly moving the conversation back to the formalities, but the bitterness lingers inside of me.

I couldn’t shake the image of her, the way she had looked at him with such defiance, unaware that her entire future was being discussed behind closed doors.

I could still see those bright blue eyes, burning with a fire that couldn’t be extinguished.

And something told me, despite the King’s attempts to shield her from the truth, that fire wouldn’t be kept in the dark for much longer.

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