The steward led them through the kitchen to the hall containing the servants’ rooms and out the back door, leading to another garden. Not far from the door stood a long table though it was missing place settings and chairs. A glass vase that contained a dozen pink flowers sat in the center, the few petals scattered over the white tablecloth an unexpected glimpse of beauty that eased some of Orphelia’s tension.

Lou and her wife were on the grass. The sloppy noble lied on her back, an arm thrown over her eyes, as her wife grinned down at her. While the noble lady was dressed in common training garments, a loose shirt and pants, the elf’s attire could be called nothing other than scandalous. A thin strip of white cloth barely restrained her prodigious chest and Orphelia would feel more comfortable calling the brown shorts that barely covered the woman’s ass underwear. Her silver hair was tied in a high ponytail, showing off her long nape, but a few strands had fallen loose, framing and softening her angular face.

She looked up as they approached, her green eyes more gold as the light struck them just right. Orphelia heard the knight clear his throat and hoped the man wouldn’t make a fool of himself. She couldn’t deny that the elf was a beauty and had seen beautiful women drive men, even relatively capable ones, to madness. Hopefully, the man’s experience, and the fact that the elf was obviously not interested in him being married to a woman, would help him keep his wits.

The steward stopped several paces from the pair and bowed at the waist. “My lady, my mistress, please forgive me for bothering you.” At the sound of his voice, Lou moved the arm over her eyes and looked at them. Orphelia tried to smile as their eyes met but her body froze, a quiet fear grabbing hold of her. Instinctively, she averted her gaze.

All her masks and careful control slipped from her grasp in the face of her murderer. Every time she tried to put on her usual act, she saw Lou’s apathetic eyes the moment before she broke her neck.

“Orphelia Yemen has come along with Sir Manuel Reis Quintana.” The knight looked toward the steward. Was he surprised the boy had pegged him as a knight? It wasn’t a hard conclusion to reach given the quality of his armor and the beasts drawing his carriage. Logic dictated he be either a knight or a powerful hunter, but hunters didn’t carry messages for the crown. “He claims to bear an important message from the king.”

“Oh, for the love of the saints.” Lou did not seem at all enthused about the news. “Who’s it for?”

“Mistress Kierra.”

“Hoh?” The elf strode forward, wearing a smile that seemed more predatory than happy. “No need to look so tense,” she said as she stopped before Orphelia. “I hope you don’t hold what happened before against us. No harm was done, hm?”

You kill someone and drop them like trash and claim no harm was done? Instead of speaking her true thoughts, Orphelia forced a smile to her face. “Not at all.” She extended the box and letter.

“How interesting~”

“Excuse me, Lady D’Atainna,” Sir Quintana said slowly. He stepped back and bowed at the waist. “The king wanted me to deliver his apologies on waiting so long to establish contact. He is aware of the lingering animosity between our people and took his time searching for a proper gift to demonstrate his hopes to improve it in the future. He hopes you can accept his gift and the sincerity behind it.”

“His sincerity, is it?” She chuckled as she walked back to Lou. She sat beside her wife, who propped herself up on her elbows. The letter was placed beside her as she palmed the box. Her gaze found the two observers, the steward having quietly departed after making introductions. “Well? I’m sure you two are curious. Shall we see what gift the most powerful man in your little kingdom gives to impress a woman?”

Sir Quintana hesitated, no doubt considering overstepping his station. Orphelia didn’t, moving forward with a fake confidence. Her death had taught her that Lou and Kierra were powerful people. Lou had snapped her neck in front of multiple witnesses and not only did neither face consequences, likely because of the lack of injury, but no one had even dared to harass them. The exact opposite, as the king was attempting to gain their favor.

Her lessons in negotiation said that the party who sent gifts was usually in the weaker position. The king did not simply want to be on Kierra Atainna’s good side. He feared being on her bad side. Something that spoke volumes of both her power and the power of the elves.

With her approach, Sir Quintana set aside his doubts and followed. Lou looked him up and down before turning her head dismissively. Something the knight clearly noticed from his slightly furrowed brow. Again, Orphelia had to hold back a laugh. If being lectured by a boy was bad, she couldn’t imagine how the proud knight felt being utterly ignored by a girl.

Kierra undid the golden latch keeping the box closed and gently lifted the lid. Inside, resting on several layers of what looked to be silk, was a seed. A fairly large one, about half the size of Orphelia’s palm. It was pale as milk, with faint golden striations going down it lengthwise. Unusual, but hardly extraordinary. She thought the king must be mad sending such a plain gift but then she saw the elf’s expression. Shock, complete with a dropped jaw and bulging eyes.

“Kii?” Lou asked, sitting up and placing a hand on the elf’s shoulder.

“It’s fine, dedia.” The elf chuckled as she carefully grabbed the seed between two fingers, holding it toward the sun. The golden striations began to glow under the light. “As I thought.” She placed the seed back into the box and closed it firmly. “Quite the gift indeed.”

“What is it?” Lou asked but the elf only shook her head, grabbing the letter and opening it with quick movements. Orphelia was surprised when she read the contents aloud. “May old friends meet again.”

“That’s it?” Orphelia silently thanked Lou for asking the question in the three observers’ minds. “The king himself could only be bothered to send a big seed and write a letter with only a single line?”

“Mm. This is a bit more than a seed.” She smiled as she ran her fingers along the box’s side. “I told you the story of my people. About how the Great Spirit gifted its strength to the women bound to their trees and in turn they entombed the Spirit’s body within the Sacred Tree?”

“Uh-huh, I remember.”

“Well, the dryads would not lay their savior to rest in a tree of common origins. In fact, the Sacred Tree was worshiped before the Spirit’s arrival. It is the oldest living being on our continent. Its roots are said to encompass the core of the world, gathering ambient mana that it disperses through its leaves. The whole of the continent is extremely mana dense because of this, which is why the monsters are so strong. The effects can even be felt throughout the Enchanted Forest, to a much lesser degree, which is why your kingdom is so hesitant to enter.”

She raised the box. “The Sacred Tree gives many wonderful boons but perhaps the greatest of all is its buds.” Her eyes moved to Sir Quintana and Orphelia. It didn’t need to be said that she didn’t want to elaborate in the presence of outsiders. “Suffice it to say, elves would kill to get their hands on one. For their properties alone, but also because one of every ten thousand buds has the chance of containing a seed.”

“Wait. You’re saying that is a seed from the elves’ sacred tree?!” Lou shouted. “What in the abyss is the human king doing with that?”

“Mm. I had my suspicions when we met our first member of the royal family. The one attached to your nemesis.”

“Yeah. Bollard.”

“Bastian,” Sir Quintana corrected.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Lou waved him off. “That one. I’m terrible with names.”

The elf chuckled. “Only the ones you care not to remember.” Orphelia glanced at the knight, wondering how he would react to the casual disrespect of a prince as a former royal knight. He seemed unbothered. She wondered if it was because the third prince was not a man worthy of defending or if he simply hadn’t developed the fanatic loyalty common of royal knights. “It is his middle name I am speaking of.”

“Ah…no, I know this. Kor! Bastian kor Harvest, that’s it. Hold on.” Lou’s brows furrowed. “Now that you mention it, I feel like I’ve heard that somewhere…”

“The Gardener who oversaw our union.”

“Yes! F something kor Yig something.”

“Fiona kor’Yggrasil. Just how D is added before the name of the current royal family, kor is used before the names of Gardeners.” She hummed. “I told you that the elves became involved with the Great War when the humans set fire to the forests while chasing the goblinoid army. Did you never wonder why every human wasn’t exterminated for the trespass?”

“Now that you mention it, that is strange. I guess I assumed you kicked our asses and let us get on with struggling to survive.”

“Imagine someone tried to burn our home to the ground with all our pets and minions inside. Do you think I would let them get on with living?”

“Yeah…no way in any of the nine hells. Why aren’t we all dead?”

“A warrior came to us and asked forgiveness. You know how we are. The rulers of the provinces wouldn’t even listen to him till he proved himself. He was given the same task of all elven warriors. They tasked him to climb the Sacred Tree as high as he could, facing down the wyverns who make their home there.” She chuckled. “They didn’t think he’d make it past the lowest branch but he climbed twenty, as good a record as any elf. He also found a young wyvern egg that had fallen from a higher nest. Rather than claim it for himself, he delivered it to the Gardeners.

“The monarchs decided not to go to war with the humans. In return, the warrior would have to stay with the Gardeners and learn about what he nearly destroyed with his reckless ways. For five years, he lived amongst the elves. When the time came for him to go, he vowed to never forget his lessons and asked what it would take for the humans and elves to become allies.”

She held up the box. “Impressed with the human warrior, they gave him a seed from the Sacred Tree. They told him, if he could successfully grow it, it would mean the Great Spirit also approved of humans and we would be forever allied. Not to mention it would also heal their land ravaged by war. The warrior departed with the seed, never to return. And a second sacred tree has yet to sprout.”

“Uh, okay. Wow.” Once again, Lou spoke the sentiments shared by the other two as they were taught to control their reactions to surprising news. “So, the king’s ancestor was a friend to the elves and he wants to continue that friendship. I’m guessing the ‘meeting again’ is an invitation to the capital?”

“It is as you say, Lady Tome,” the knight said. “The crown would be happy to host Lady D’Atainna and her wife.”

The elf slowly rose to her feet, eyes on the box in her hands. “The arrogance of your king is simply astounding.”

Sir Quintana stiffened. Orphelia understood his reaction, as the elf’s tone was far from friendly. She was far less subtle in her own reaction, slowly easing back several steps. “Lady—"

“Do not call me lady,” she sneered. “I grow tired of your constant attempts to drag me into your games. Even this.” She held out the box in what Orphelia could only call a threatening manner. “Is this a gift? To me, it is an insult.”

Sir Quintana was flabbergasted and Orphelia had to admit, she was just as confused. “L—Miss, you just said it was the seed of a special tree,” he said cautiously. “The only one ever given to a human, right? It definitely wasn’t given to you as an insult.”

“No?” She tossed the box to Lou and took a step forward. “Your king has given me a token awarded to his ancestor. Why? To remind me that someone in his family managed to obtain the elves’ respect? Hoping that will make me look upon him favorably? By the spirit, what makes that foolish man think anything his ancestor did applies to him? Did he brave the Sacred Tree and slay a hundred dragonkin? No!” Her eyes narrowed. “Even if he had, that does not give him the right to summon me! Nor does a circle of metal on his head.”

“This…” Orphelia did not envy the knight. His flexing hand said he did not care for the elf casually disparaging his king but he had been sent as a messenger. It wouldn’t do to make matters worse. “I assure you, the crown meant no offense. The letter is an invitation, not a summons. The crown merely hopes for the chance to entertain you.”

The green woman laughed, tossing her head back. “Do you think I am a child who cannot hear what is unsaid? An invitation, yes, but one he expects me to accept. That letter practically shouts, ‘here, I have given you this important thing and my father’s father of many times was powerful. Now you surely cannot ignore me!’. I received his subtle invitations while in the capital and deigned not to go. His answer is to prepare a pretty bauble. Your king thinks he can buy me,” she growled, holding up a hand when the knight tried to correct her.

“That is the personal insult but this is a graver insult to the whole of my people.” Everyone’s eyes widened at her statement. “We give you the seed of our Sacred Tree, a piece of our god, challenging you to become more. Rather than accept our generosity, you spit on our gift and hand it back to me as if…” She ran her fingers through her hair, snapping the tie holding it in place. “There is nothing I can compare such an insult to. To simply throw away a piece of divinity.”

On the ground, Lou winced. Orphelia held in her own. Someone had committed a horrific mistake. Had Kierra been a normal person, a human, a gift and a show of accomplishments would have been the perfect move. After all, the only thing that mattered more than bloodline was someone’s personal power.

Kierra wasn’t human. Her home was not Harvest. The crown had simply ignored the fact that they were dealing with a member of a different race and the pitfalls that could come with navigating a different culture. With his pure intentions, the king may have just started a war.

Sir Quintana allowed some of his horror to slip out. “We ask for forgiveness, we didn’t know. I shall take the—"

“You will take nothing!” she snapped. “The seed of the Sacred Tree is not something that can treated so carelessly. You have rejected the gift of the elves and so it is gone. Tell your king I reject his invitation. Goodbye.”

The knight’s mouth worked as he tried to think of something, anything, he could say to salvage the situation. However, he was no diplomat and he realized it. Bowing at the waist, he turned on his heels and marched away, Orphelia quick to follow after muttering hasty farewells.

Laughter echoed inside her mind as they moved through the house. [Amazing! Humans are truly gifted at destroying themselves! I didn’t have to so much as lift a finger and you’ve started a war you have no hope of winning, hahaha!]

Will it really come to war? Orphelia thought fearfully.

[Maybe~ If mistress was on the throne, undoubtedly, but I have no idea how her family will react.]

Her family raised her. It would not be too audacious to assume they shared similar values. Worse, she had repeatedly said the unfortunate choice in gift was an insult to all elves.

[Things are going to get interesting. I will have to adjust my plans. I shall visit you tonight, my blade.]

“Fuck!” Sir Quintana hissed as he burst out the front door. “Saints damned fucking—" He grabbed her shoulder and brought Orphelia to a halt. “Did you know?”

“About?”

“About the seed!” he snapped, shaking her. “I swear to the saints, if you and your father kept this information secret—"

“Sir Quintana,” she said firmly. “No matter what you may think of my family, we would not keep such crucial information to ourselves. Withholding information that could lead to war with another country would see our entire family killed. He may be hungry for power but there would be nothing for him to put his greedy hands on if elves burn Harvest to the ground.”

He stared into her eyes for several tense moments before letting her go with a huff. “You’re assuming we’d lose.”

I have it on good authority that we would. “It still isn’t a good outcome.”

“How was anyone to know that a little gift would offend the woman so badly?” he muttered. He looked at her over his shoulder as they neared the carriage. “Once we return to the capital, I will submit we both be examined by interrogators. The crown will know the truth and the whole truth of our conversation…not that it will stop others from blaming me. Saints! This is the last thing we needed.”

It was amazing. After Sebas’ death, when the creature had declared that she would save Orphelia by throwing suspicion on one of the kingdom’s most respected knights, Orphelia had taken it as a jest. After this debacle, it would be a miracle if he wasn’t stripped of his title. It was likely he would have to face far more dire consequences with the nobles’ need to find a scapegoat.

It would break the dam and chaos would follow. Such a powerful figure being brought down would give others ideas to do the same. With the king of a mind to suspect traitors, they would plot against their enemies and allies alike. Accusations that would have been laughed off today would cause people to doubt. Even the most loyal would come under suspicion and many innocents would be carried away by the tide. All because of one comment whispered in her mind that she had carelessly added to her report.

Was this all the creature’s plan? Did that thing disguising itself as a harmless thrall have the celestial affinity to manipulate fate? She didn’t think the being could manipulate the kingdom so easily without it even if she whispered into a thousand minds.

But then again, she contends with gods. We are truly nothing but insects to her.

Nervous laughter bubbled up but she choked it down due to her audience. Sir Quintana gave her a suspicious glance before opening the door to the carriage and waving at her briskly. She hurriedly got inside, mind whirring with a hundred thoughts as she tried to see where the creature was leading them.