Trapped in the Den of Alphas

Chapter 3

I hear a knock on my door just as I fix the last tendril of my lilac-colored hair in place. “Come in!”

Swiftly, the door opens, and my mother appears inside the room. “You look beautiful, Pia Náre,” she coos as she looks over my gown for this evening. “And I love that you kept your natural hair color tonight.”

“Thanks, Mother. Yours is pretty too. I love the blue on you.”

“You think?” she asks, fluffing up her voluminous up-do. “I’m not sure about it.”

I watch as she walks toward my dressing table, touching the petals of the Violet Sipple flower, which stands in its white marble plant pot. Within a few seconds, her hair color begins to change, and I shake my head in amusement as every strand flits from vibrant bright blue to soft purple.

“Perhaps I just fancy matching my daughter tonight,” she shrugs with a grin. “Are you ready to go?”

I take a deep breath and nod as she examines me with obvious skepticism.

“I’m fine. I promise.”

She walks over and lifts her hand to my face sympathetically. “You’re sure? I know you always find this occasion difficult—”

“It’s been seventy years, Mother. Trust me, I can handle it,” I reassure her gratefully, placing my hand on top of hers.

“We had better go then,” she adds, finally dropping her hand to walk with me to the door.

After a few minutes of walking through the enormous stone palace, we reach the bottom floor of the building. The grand ballroom is decorated with elaborate floral displays, and it’s immediately evident that the queen has decided to go with a striking, colorful theme this year. I can’t help but smile in wonder as I cast my eyes up to the tall ceilings, which are reminiscent of the forest canopy itself. Dangling green vines and leaves of every shape and size are adorned with brightly colored flowers which catch the light like little multi-colored stars. The room is filled with large circular tables with pink willow trees as their centerpieces. When I look closely, I can see each little tree buzzing with life, its branches swaying as though being moved by the forest breeze.

“It appears Queen Siofra has outdone herself this year,” my mother comments, taking in the general splendor. “The ballroom looks more beautiful than I have ever seen it!”

On this occasion, I have to agree.

Beauty is often viewed differently here in Morween. Wood elves value nature, whereas high elves lean more toward opulence and grandiosity. It’s never really been a style that has interested me.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Queen Siofra has taken inspiration from the wood elves of Azealea for her decor tonight,” I whisper to my mother, who gives me a stern look.

“Oh, I wouldn’t share that opinion with anyone else if I were you, my love,” she warns before spotting one of her friends across the ballroom. “I’ll be back soon, Eden.”

I watch as she disappears through the crowd of well-dressed high elves, deciding to go for another wander around before heading to our table.

I let my fingers graze against the walls of the stone fountain positioned in the center of the room and gaze upward at the sparking silver streams of water as they lash down upon the multi-colored rocks below.

It’s then that my eyes lock with a familiar pair from across the room, and my whole body freezes in place. I wasn’t lying earlier when I said I would be fine this evening. It’s been a long time since we lost him. Still, every year…every single year, when I see his face again, the hurt and the pain come flooding back into my heart in one fell swoop, and the heavy emotions leave me paralyzed temporarily. Eventually, I summon the courage to amble toward the center stage, and I tilt my head to the side as I look up at his handsome face.

His skin is smooth. His bright eyes are gleaming. His smile is beautiful. He’s exactly how I remember him.

Then, I feel a presence by my side and see Aubrun standing shoulder-to-shoulder with me. “You miss him?” he asks quietly, nodding at the painting of Erix, which stands proudly before us.

“Of course, don’t you?”

He lets out a heavy sigh and nods in reply. “Every day.”

I turn to him and smile sadly.

“How are you, Eden? I came by your father’s study this morning, but you weren’t there.”

“No. I was out,” I answer vaguely, looking back at the painting once again.

“Azealea?”

I roll my eyes and shake my head from side to side. “Don’t start tonight, please, Aubrun.”

He lifts his hands in surrender. “I know that you can take care of yourself. I’ve seen you fight and hunt. I’m just looking out for you because I care about you, Eden. Deeply.”

I shift uncomfortably as I feel his gaze burn into the side of my face. “Well, you don’t need to worry—”

“It’s my job as a High Elven Guard,” he snaps back, cutting me off mid-sentence.

I decide to nod dismissively rather than argue. I just don’t have the energy tonight.

Although we aren’t exactly best friends, Aubrun and I have known each other for a long time. Ever since I moved here around eighty years ago, he has been a part of my life. It was inevitable really as he was best friends with Erix, and Erix and I were inseparable before… Well, before he was gone.

“Erix would want you to move on, you know, Eden. He would want you to be happy,” Aubrun says quietly as he watches me admire the painting.

“I know,” I whisper, my eyes connecting with the pools of deep blue.

Erix was a beautiful person in every way and perhaps the only high elf I didn’t think was a pompous prick with entitlement issues when I arrived here. He made time for everyone. Was generous and kind. In fact, I used to joke that perhaps he was a wood elf in disguise.

Aubrun then turns to me and lifts my hand gently to hold it between his palms.

Shit.

Panic settles over me as I take in the serious expression on his face.

He isn’t about to do this…is he?

“I was going to ask if you’d allow me to take you—”

Suddenly, a gong rings through the hall, which then falls into silence as everyone hurriedly makes their way to their tables for the entrance of King Ciridan and Queen Siofra. I must admit that I’m grateful for the interruption. I glance at Aubrun again cautiously and slip my hand from his. “I better go to my table.”

“Of course, you must,” he agrees insistently, checking over his formal attire to ensure everything is in place.

I escape to join my mother and father at their table near the front as everyone claps for the king and queen.

As they make their way to the front, I have to admire Siofra. The woman doesn’t do anything by halves. Her dress and hairstyle reflect the evening decor down to a tee. On the other hand, in contrast, the king doesn’t look himself. Despite his elaborate tunic of bright colors, I notice the pale hue of his skin, the bags under his eyes and the general heaviness in his step as he follows the radiant Siofra to take their thrones. I look around the room briefly, wondering if anyone else has noticed the subtle changes in his appearance.

The crowd quietens, and everyone sits, waiting patiently for their king’s speech. Ciridan looks around the room slowly, nodding to the many notable lords and high elves. My father also receives a respectful nod that catches the attention of others around us.

A lowly wood elf being acknowledged by the king? Oh, how very uncouth.

Urgg, you would think these snobs would have gotten used to our presence here by now.

King Ciridan then stands up and holds his hands in the air. “Good evening! Thank you all for coming tonight to celebrate the anniversary of The Culling and the end of the war that plagued our lands for too many dreadful years,” he begins loudly. “On this day, seventy years ago, our enemies finally met their demise. Their wicked, evil, violent intentions no longer hang over us because of the actions of the brave elves in this very room. We can now sleep soundly at night. Our children can play and grow. Our women are safe and protected.”

The room erupts into applause, and I join in, just as thankful as anyone here that the days of war are far behind us.

“However, this is not only a day of celebration. For we also remember those we have lost…such as my son, your prince, Erix of Morween.”

A knot forms in my stomach as he gestures toward the large portrait on the stage behind him.

“I do not doubt he would have led this kingdom with great dignity and strength. We honor him tonight by remembering his sacrifice and the sacrifice of your own sons, daughters, sisters, brothers, mothers and fathers. Let’s fondly remember them and celebrate their lives with joy in our hearts!”

Again the room comes alive as everyone shows their gratitude in abundance. However, while everyone seems focused on the celebrations, I keep my eyes on the king, watching as he flops down onto his chair with an air of exhaustion. Queen Siofra glances at him from the corner of her eye before reaching across to grab his hand.

“Now, everyone! Let’s eat!” a voice at the table calls out, breaking me from my trance and thrusting me back into the present.