Page 9 of The Crown of the Last Fae Queen
If you are anything like me, then you will do whatever is in your power to protect those whom you love, even if it means becoming wicked.
3
THREE – KOLFINNA
Rakel draggedKolfinna outside the fortress until they reached the battlefield they had both fought on a few days prior. All the corpses had been cleaned up: human, fae, and elf alike. The proof of the battle remained in the earth—the ground was torn up from stone fae-magic, scorch marks remained from elves and lightning and fire elementals, and the crumbling rocks and grass were tarnished with inky purplish-black stains and dried, crusted blood. Kolfinna’s heart caught in her throat at the sight of ice cementing the ground in chunks—most definitely Blár’s ice-magic, which would remain frozen for a long, long time.
Nightmarish fae soldiers stood in rows expectantly, garbed in midnight-like metal, scales, and leathers. Nobody spoke, and the only sound was that of large beasts huffing and puffing. It took Kolfinna a moment to realize what exactly was making all that noise—drekis.
Dozens of large, scaled, lizard-like drekis lined the fortress walls. Their red eyes burned like fire, and Kolfinna shuddered at the sight of them. The last time she had faced the monstrous creatures of legend was when Ragnarök had attacked the capital months ago, and before that was when she and Blár had been trapped within the Eventyrslot ruins in the desert dimension.
“What are you going to do with Herja?” Kolfinna demanded; she wasn’t able to shake the image of Herja, unconscious and weak, out of her mind.
“We’ll keep her alive.”
Kolfinna waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t. “I want to see her?—”
“So long as you cooperate, you’ll see her.”
That was all the answer she was going to get, it seemed. Even when she tried prodding for more, the elf woman ignored her.
Rakel shot orders at groups of fae quickly and without slowing her march—pack the weapons here, be sure to feed the drekis, take the prisoners there—and it was only when they reached a beige-colored tent at the front of the army that Rakel slowed. She yanked Kolfinna’s wrist harder and pushed through the flap of the tent.
“You need to change your outfit,” Rakel said as she flung Kolfinna to the ground. She barely had time to raised her arms to soften the impact. Rakel began flipping through the trunks stacked on one side of the room. The only things in the room were those trunks, some dressers, and some locked chests—most likely loot they had found in the fortress that could be used for their travels.
“You can’t wear that filthy uniform anymore,” Rakel continued. “It’s embarrassing enough that you side with the humans, but we don’t need a reminder of it every time we look at you. And, of course, since youarethe princess and, I suppose, the heir to the throne …” Rakel made a face at that, like she had tasted something sour, and picked through the trunk once more. “Well, you need to dress better.” She pulled out a bright red dress with a swooping neckline and a cinched waist. It also looked about three times too small.
Kolfinna pushed herself into a sitting position and rubbed the scrapes on her elbows glumly. She was still shaken fromearlier, but she didn’t want Rakel to see that. Her whole body was tensed like a coiled spring ready to snap.
“This is a bit too …” Rakel squinted at the dress, a frown tugging on her lips. She raised the gaudy dress in front of Kolfinna. “What doyouthink?”
“If you plan to parade me like a clown, then it’s perfect,” she grumbled.
“Hm.” She tossed the dress back into the trunk and pulled out a navy-blue gown with black crystals clustered along the hem, neckline, and sleeves. “This one is quite beautiful. I think it’ll go well with that black hair of yours.”
Kolfinna inadvertently touched the white strands of her hair; just months ago she’d had fully black hair, and now it was half-white and half-black; she had hated the change at first, but now she wasn’t even sure what to make of it.
Rakel eyed her hair just as Kolfinna dropped her locks. “You don’t like the reminder, do you?” She rifled through the clothes without casting her another glance. Her own white hair whipped around her back like thick ropes; even in the dimmer lighting of the tent, the silver rings and clasps in her hair shone brightly. “Most half-elves hate their white hair.”
“Why?”
She shrugged, not meeting her eyes. “Elves are seen as lesser beings than the fae, so most half-elves hate to be seen as half-elf, and would rather be seen asmostly-fae.”
It hadn’t even occurred to Kolfinna that there was race superiority or discrimination among the fae and elves; she had thought … Well, she hadn’t given it much thought, really. Just a few months ago she hadn’t even known elves existed.
“Why do the fae look down on elves?” she found herself asking.
“Because we make up a small fraction of fae civilization.” She spoke like it didn’t matter, but there was an edge to her tone. Shechucked a sage-green dress in front of Kolfinna. “Wear this. At least you’ll look presentable.”
The dress was beautiful, flowy, and glowed with a satin sheen every time the sunlight hit it. Kolfinna glided her fingers over the silk-like material. It was too nice for her. She was a prisoner, not a long-lost princess.
“Why can’t I wear something like what you’re wearing?” Kolfinna lowered the dress into her lap and motioned toward Rakel’s dark leathers; they hugged her lean figure nicely, and looked easy to move around in. She was more comfortable with the idea of wearing something militaristic and moveable, not … this.
“No.” Rakel snorted. “You’re not a warrior here, Kolfinna.”
“But I’m a soldier?—”
“Of the enemy.” Rakel shot Kolfinna a dark look as she leaned her hip against the stacks of cases and trunks in the cramped, dimly lit tent. Crossing her muscled arms over her chest, she lifted a white eyebrow. “Why would I give you something to wear that would make it easier for you to escape? Not that you’d be able to, but it’s the sentiment.”
