The grand hall was alight with the flicker of thousands of candles. Colorful banners were embroidered with the symbols of some of the most important houses in attendance that night.
On the far side, away from the partying Lords and Ladies, Lady Elowen stood tall and proud, her presence a commanding one.
Her dress, made of crimson silk, clung to her body as if it had been made for her—as if it were blood pouring down her body and trailing on the floor behind her as she moved. Her blonde, almost white hair was tightly braided and pinned like a crown around her head—fitting for a Lady of her social standing. The single emerald she wore around her neck glistened in the candlelight, another sign of her wealth.
Her eyes moved from side to side, watching as the noblemen and women danced, sang, laughed, ate, and drank. Their happiness—a sharp contrast to the turmoil inside her mind.
"Lady Elowen?" a voice said from behind her.
She turned around and saw one of her most trusted men holding a goblet of wine out for her.
"Marcus," she said with a nod of her head, accepting the offered wine.
"You seem troubled," he commented, his eyes looking everywhere but at her.
She didn't bother to look at him either, her eyes still trained on the oblivious dancing nobles.
"Not troubled. Just slightly tired. Nothing to worry about," she assured him, finally gracing him with one of her rare smiles.
The room suddenly fell silent, and Elowen looked around, trying to find the source of the noblemen's and women's silence.
King Aldric had arrived and was steadily making his way through the room.
In her direction.
His dark blue robes trailed behind him like water flowing down a waterfall. The dark blue was a perfect match for Elowen's eyes and a striking contrast to his red hair and green eyes. The crown atop his head shone as brightly as the pendant Elowen wore around her neck.
Her heart started beating faster, like thunder inside her chest, until she could barely breathe. She was never like this. She never flinched in front of the enemy; she never felt anxious when standing before hundreds of enemy soldiers. But here—here in front of hundreds of nobles from her land—her heart skipped a beat, her hands went clammy, and all because of a man.
Granted, said man was the king—but still.
"Lady Elowen," Aldric said.
She curtsied as he took one of her hands in his and kissed her knuckles.
"My lord," she murmured, internally cursing her fair skin—because she knew, without a doubt, she was blushing.
"Dance with me?" It sounded far more like a command than a question, but she still nodded and let him lead her to the dance floor. The noblewomen and men respectfully gave their king and his most trusted commander space to dance.
"You've been rather quiet, Commander," he whispered.
"What would you have me say, my Lord? That I find this celebration bittersweet? That although I know my men are good, I still worry that most of them will not live to dance again?"
"Elowen," he murmured, always aware of everyone's eyes and ears on them as he spun her around the room, "you said it yourself—that your men are good. You trained them yourself."
"You could lose everything. I could make you lose everything," she murmured.
"I trust you, Elowen. I trust you with my men, with my kingdom, with my mind, and with my soul," he said.
His green eyes bore into her blue ones with such intensity that she had to look away. "Elowen," he murmured again.
The use of her name in such a tender tone made her look up and meet his gaze. "I trust you more than I trust anyone in this room."
She opened her mouth to answer just as the music came to an end. She took a deep breath and curtsied, the claps around her nearly deafening.
With one final glance, she moved back to her preferred spot—one where she could see everyone. Every threat.
Her hand instinctively went to the dagger hidden within the many folds of her silk dress.
The night went on, and Elowen smiled, nodded, and hummed whenever appropriate, but her skin crawled with the need to get the hell away from the grand hall and flee to the quiet safety of her private chambers.
When her presence was no longer needed, she quietly slipped away from the rest of the court and made her way to her chambers.
"Elowen?" a voice asked from behind her.
Elowen stopped in her tracks and turned around, a genuine smile playing on her lips as she saw who had called her name.
Mary, one of the only women she trusted at court, was waiting beside the door to her chambers, ready to help her out of the heavy gown she had donned that night.
"I didn't see you downstairs," Elowen said. She started taking her jewelry off, carefully placing it where it belonged, lest it be damaged. They had, after all, belonged to her mother—a woman she had little record of.
"Well, I did see you, as I'm sure all of the court did, dancing with their beloved king."
There was something in the woman's tone that made Elowen turn and narrow her eyes.
"Is there a problem with that?" she questioned. "You know you can always speak your mind with me."
Mary looked around the room as if gathering strength before she squared her shoulders and met Elowen's eyes.
"Be careful. The walls have ears. Nothing is a secret in this castle."
With that, Mary moved closer and started helping Elowen undress. Layer after layer was carefully removed and neatly placed on the wooden dresser—a gift from Aldric, though Elowen would never tell anyone such a thing.
"Thank you," Elowen murmured once she was in her nightgown. She was already seated at her vanity, running a brush through her hair and trying to ease the pain the braids had caused.
Mary nodded softly before slipping away from the room in a flurry of skirts.
Not a minute later, there was a knock on the door. Elowen rolled her eyes, assuming Mary had forgotten something again—it happened almost every time.
To her great surprise, the door opened and Aldric walked in.
She rose from her seat and met him in the middle of the room.
"Aren't you still needed at the ball?" she questioned, always quick to hide her surprise.
"I think I've made my presence known, don't you?"
She glared at him, though there wasn't any real threat behind it.
"I think I'm going to end up dead because of you."
"You're one of my best warriors, so I'd hope not," he said, his grin turning into a satisfied smirk.
She smacked him on the chest, and he caught her hand before she could pull it back. Blue eyes locked with green. He raised an eyebrow; she narrowed hers.
"Dance with me," he whispered against her ear.
"I already did. I think that was quite enough, don't you?" She smirked up at him, and it was his turn to narrow his eyes.
"Good God, woman. You'll be the death of me."
She ran her fingers over his chest, felt his heart beating beneath her fingertips, felt the way his breath quickened. Her eyes went wide.
Did she also have that tender look in her eyes each time he touched her? Did her skin feel like it was vibrating each time he slowly rubbed his fingers over her milky white skin?
"Al… Aldric?" she stuttered.
He simply smiled down at her like he didn't have a care in the world, like they weren't planning to go into battle in less than a month. He looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered.
"My Lord." She tried to move away, but he held her closer, his arms wrapping around her waist, grounding her next to him.
"Don't, Elowen. Please," he begged.
Elowen took a deep breath and let herself melt into his embrace. "I don't want to disappoint you," she admitted.
Aldric kissed her forehead and breathed in, taking in the scent that was so uniquely hers. "I don't see how you could."
She nodded against his chest, and he reluctantly let go of her. She moved back to her vanity and started braiding her hair—this time in a much looser braid than the one she had worn to the celebration.
Aldric moved behind her and took the three pieces of hair in his hand, starting to braid it himself.
"Dammit," he cursed, and she giggled, softly untangling the mess he'd made.
"Teach me how," he said so softly she wouldn't have heard him if he weren't standing so close.
Elowen passed the brush through her hair again and parted it into three sections.
"You take this one," she said, holding out the left strand. He took it in his hand and waited.
"Now, pass it over the middle one, and then do the same with the one on the right."
He nodded, holding his tongue between his teeth as he slowly worked his way down until only the tip was left. She handed him a blue ribbon, and he carefully tied it at the end of her braid.
"There. All done," he murmured in her ear.
She turned her head to the side and looked into his green eyes.
"You have the most beautiful eyes. Has anyone ever told you that?" she asked softly, afraid that if she spoke any louder, the spell over the room would break.
He blushed—something she hadn't even known he was capable of.
Elowen laughed softly and cupped his cheek. "You have the most beautiful nose, and I would kill to have hair the same shade as yours." Her thumb swept over his full lips and she leaned in closer. "You have the most beautiful lips, and I—"
Before she could finish, his lips descended on hers.
It was a kiss that said everything they didn't dare say aloud—a secret kept from the court. A kiss full of promises. A kiss full of hope.
When he pulled back, she kept her eyes closed, a tender smile spreading across her lips.
"Come to bed," he murmured against her skin. He kissed her nose, then her eyelids, then the corner of her mouth.
Elowen took a deep breath and nodded.
"We need to be before court early in the morning," she warned him, but she still moved toward the bed, the candlelight casting her silhouette against the rough chamber walls.
"Please don't remind me," he groaned, settling beside her. She moved closer and laid her head on his chest.
"How long can you stay?" she asked timidly.
Running his fingers over her cheek, he marveled at how a woman who faced battle after battle could sound so utterly shy when alone with him.
"Until you fall asleep," he finally answered.
Her blue eyes sparkled with amusement as she looked into his. "Am I to be treated like a child now?"
He chuckled and pulled her closer. "I sure hope not. I've heard you shouldn't send children into battle."
"I think my men would be reluctant to blindly follow the orders of a child. Then again, they follow the orders of a woman, so you never know," Elowen pointed out.
"But that woman has won more battles than they can count. I can see why they trust her."
"But my Lord, I've heard she's crazy—not to be trusted," Elowen said teasingly.
"I have it on good authority that the only thing she's crazy about is me." He wiggled his eyebrows at her, and she dissolved in laughter.
"Oh, you're full of something," she muttered against his chest.
His fingers began to trace her sides, making her squirm until he truly started tickling her.
"If you don't stop, I'll never fall asleep, and you'll have to spend the whole night here."
He shrugged, a smirk growing on his face. "Sacrifices, sacrifices. Ah, what I do for my kingdom."
She rolled her eyes and turned her back to him, contently sighing when he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against his chest.
"Good night, Elowen."
"Good night," she replied, her eyes already closed and one foot already in dreamland.