Red Rope of Fate (21 page)

“Ah, now that is the catch. Lesser Elves cannot. As you know, Lesser Elves are cousins of a sort to High Elves. Mostly, we are the offspring of High Elves and men. In most of our population we’ve become a race of our own. But in some of our bloodlines, the blood of the High Elves runs thicker.”

“…The Royal Family.”

Tari inclined her head. “Indeed, almost all Evening Stars are related to the royal family. Seer Ringali is King Celrin’s direct cousin. I am also a distant member of the Royal Family.”

“So is Kiva, and Talon. Why aren’t they Evening Stars?”

“To be an Evening Star there are three requirements. First of all you must display more traits of High Elves than Lesser Elves. Think of me, what is odd about me compared to most elves?”

“You return slights, you fight, you perceive human arguments and seek to finish them rather than ignore them. You are socially perceptive.”

“In other words I am more cunning, ruthless, and blood thirsty than other elves, like, say, my sister,” Tari smiled slightly, a sad edge to her words. “Seer Ringali is another example. He is sarcastic, rude, and high handed. These traits are not necessarily good things, but the
y are indicators that we have the cunning intelligence of the High Elves. It means we will be able to handle bloodshed and war. The second requirement is that you must have the ability to use High Elf magic. Magic that can be used to destroy.”

“Talon has magic, though. I saw him try to use it against you,” Arion argued.

“That is so,” Tari nodded. “But Talon failed the last requirement, which is also, perhaps, the most important requirement: you must be loyal to
humans
.”

Arion sat
down, hard.

Tari watched him for a moment before she continued. “Evening Stars are gro
omed for battle only when we prove to be fiercely protective of humans. Evening Stars fight for humans, not for elves. It would do no good to teach an elf that does not wildly love humans how to fight. Our entire existence is devoted to you.”

Arion was silent for
a moment. “I think I understand why there are so few of you.”

Tari laughed and leaned forward, stretching her arms in front of her. “Usually loyalty to Calnor is not a problem. Talon
is the only elf I have heard of that was turned away due to personal conflicts.”

Silence stretched between Tari and Arion for several minutes. Tari slid her legs beneath her, readying herself to stand, when Arion startled her.

“Why have you never told us this?”

“Pardon?”

“Why have the elves of Lessa never told us of their worries, or of the purpose of an Evening Star?”

Tari shrugged. “It was never asked. We have always been upfront in our beliefs that High Elves
will return. We never shy from it, but you humans have given up preparing for it. You guard us from the rest of the world; we will guard you from our cousins.”

Arion laughed. “It is a bitter medicine to swallow; to be told by an elf that you are being protected.”

Tari shrugged. “You humans are too easily offended. I, and all the elves of Lessa, view my job as an Evening Star as the highest honor. It is an
honor
to guard the seas.”

“Yes, but
we
are supposed to be guarding
you
.”

Tari laughed. “Now you
have a savior complex.”

Arion ruefully shook his head. He knew he was not the only human that would be shocked, and perhaps dismayed, to
learn they underestimated the elves of Lessa. But Tari was laughing again, and it was better to let the matter go.

“Would you like to join me for evening tea?” Arion asked, wincing slightly when his various weapons stabbed at him as he stood up.

“Only if we’re actually going to drink tea. And I think I want something to eat. Let’s go back to my room, Evlawyn is a regular cat thief in food procurement,” Tari said, also boosting herself to her feet.

“So
that’s
how you lured my men into language lessons.”

“They
told
you?”

“This morni
ng. It was in their best interest to tell me, I assure you.”

“Oh please. It’s not like you were going to give them a post in the desert.”

“…”

“Arion?”

“I said it was in their best interest.”

“ARION!”

“Thank you for coming to speak with me, Eric. I was beginning to fear the translator would drag me off to a library to quiz me on human verbs and nouns,” Tari said with a weary sigh. It had been an arduous day and Tari longed for her soft bed and fluffed pillows, but it was the evening of Princess Claire’s tea. She had to come.

“
You can hardly blame him. You are the idol of the Translators’ Circle,” Eric pronounced as he snagged a handful of sugar glazed walnuts. “Learning human in a matter of weeks? That is impressive.”

Tari smiled and nodded to the various
elves that glided past her for the sole point of catching her eye and offering her a sympathetic nod. It was only a week ago that Tari had almost killed Talon, and the news was still spreading among the elves. The humans reacted to her no differently, which made her suspect Arion had told no one.

Tari
wondered why as she reached up and touched the pink chrysanthemum hair stick—the one Arion gave her—Evlawyn had styled her short hair with.

“You doubt the accomplishment?” Eric asked at her silence.

“No, but to me a translator is still more awe inspiring. I, what is the term, cheat? I borrow words and phrases from Arion. It is our bond that helps me learn so quickly.”

Eric shook his head. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. But let us talk of more interesting things!”

Tari nodded, her smile freezing. Was Eric finally going to ask where Talon was? (King Celrin sent him to the capital of Lessa. His other daughter, Princess Gwendafyn, was to deal with him. Tari almost felt sorry for Talon. If Gwendafyn hadn’t been a princess she would have been recruited as an Evening Star.)

“How many admirers do you think Arion has?”

Tari blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

Eric stabbed a finger in Arion’s direction—he was standing with a fellow captain, but the two military men were circled by young human ladies who clamored for their attention. “I think it’s disgusting how many girls are moony eyed over him. Arion said they’re just attracted to power. Pah!”

Tari looked down at the Arion’s younger brother—he was much shorter than Arion, and thus Tari—and half grinned. “You are jealous?”

“Me? What? No-I never! Tari that was an insult,” Eric sputtered.

Tari laughed and patted Eric on the top of the head the way she would pet a dog. “Do not worry young bean sprout. Your time will come,” she said.

“I am not young,” Eric protested.

“You are just a babe.”

“I am not.
Lady Tari you are unfeeling, all I wanted was for you to commiserate that yes it is unfair. Maybe sympathize a little,” Eric complained.

Tari turned her back to Arion. Although she had not yet sunk so low as to feel jealousy at Arion’s admirers—mostly because Arion’s body language always tattled how irked the situation made him—it did pain her heart to see that others could so openly pursue
him. “Did I not just sympathize with you? I told you your time would come. What does sympathize mean?” she asked Eric, gently leading him away from the refreshment table and the decadent scents wafting up from it. (The sugared nuts were addicting.)

“It means you agree with me and you tell me you like me better than Arion,” Eric said with a cheeky grin.

“I do not think that is the true definition.”

“And now you’re doubting me? How cruel! I must be consoled Lady Tari!” Eric sniffed before curling an arm around Tari’s shoulders as they strolled.

“Very well, before I do so please be aware that the elvish meaning of console is to throw into a pond to mask your pained tears and sobs,” Tari said, turning slightly to Eric to mask her shrugging his arm off her. “I plan to follow the definition of my people in this case.”

“Ummm,” Eric said, displaying exaggerated hesitation. “Perhaps not console then.”

“Attend to, maybe?” Arion said behind the pair.

Eric winced when he heard his brother’s voice, but he turned with Tari to face the captain. “Attend to?” Tari asked.

“Attend to. It is a verb used to describe when someone is physically injured and he requires someone to keep an eye on him to make sure no further harm befalls him,” Arion flatly said.

“Wow, is it this late already? I must go pay my respects to King Petyrr,” Eric said, edging away. “I must get going—oh, I almost forgot. Here, Lady Tari. Claire wanted me to give you this,” Eric said, retreating back to Tari’s side to hand her an envelope. He smiled when she took it before he glanced at Arion. “Yes, I’ve delivered it now so I’m free. Farewell,” he said before beating a hasty escape.

“Why is he always so frightened of you?” Tari asked, inspecting the envelope with interest. It was address to her in elvish script—the princess probably had recruited a translator for the task. It was no small wonder the translators had no time to discuss scientific advancements between Calnor and Lessa—they barely had time to fulfill the translation duties at the palace!

“Eric is not frightened of me, he is frightened when I find him with you,” Arion said, a slight but pleased smile folded on his lips
as he led Tari to an open patio door.

“I do no
t think I understand,” Tari said.

“You don’t need to. You look beautiful this evening.”

Tari blushed. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Arion said, he leaned forward and invaded Tari’s space
to softly kiss her on the forehead.

Tari swallowed and did her best to control her pounding heart. Kissing on the forehead was permissible in elvish culture—but mostly it was between relatives. Tari had a feeling there was a different meaning behind Arion’s kiss, but none of the tea attendees gasped or pointed at Tari and Arion, so it was probably ok
ay.

“You are in a splendid mood this evening,” Tari said, reaching out to link her arm with Arion’s.

“I am,” Arion acknowledged.

“Why, if you do not mind my asking,” Tari said.

Arion’s slight smile grew crocked. “I was treated to a good sight. You like your flower hair stick?”

Tari beamed. “I do, I still think it is pretty. I have received four compliments on it this evening. And no, they weren’t all from elves,” Tari said, purposely turning her nose up in the air.

Arion chuckled. “I am glad you like it. I am sorry, but I must also leave you to mingle.”

“I
understand. Go ahead, leave, I would like to read my letter and it would be bad manners to read in front of another.”

“I see, you find a letter
to be better company than I?”

Tari could detect the teasing lilt to his voice—Arion lilted much more now since he spent half his day with her—and grinned as she held up her letter for inspection. “Only when the letter happens to be from the sister of my much treasured bond p
artner.”

“
Enjoy your letter,” Arion said before leaning in again to brush his lips against Tari’s temple. He turned on his heels and left, his cloak snapping behind him.

Tari watched him leave before returning her attention to the envelope. She opened it, and read the letter printed in graceful elvish script.

Lady Tarinthali,

I hope you will overlook the impudence I take, for I know we have never been introduced, but it would please me greatly if you would join me for tea tomorrow afternoon in my rooms. I have much longed to meet you, and I look forward to speaking with you.

Princess Claire

Tari refolded the note and slipped it back in the envelope. Princess Claire was inviting her to tea? Contact with the princess was not surprising—Tari had actually been feeling seeds of guilt that she so readily crashed Princess Claire’s tea every week without ever meeting the royal hostess—but a private correspondence was rather… over the top.