Nitiri rubbed her forehead gingerly and tried to remain calm.
“Why is it you promised me they would not make it to the border on time, and yet they did?”
“They exponentially increased their pace, and there is something assisting them,” Tiberius answered. “I sensed a force I have not felt since the Great War prohibiting me from entering Amora. I believe they are being protected.”
Nitiri ignored his pathetic excuses and focused on her own thoughts. I need another Kutsal Stone, and I am running out of options, she thought bitterly, contemplating her choices. She raised her hand mirror and chanted,
“Mirror, mirror, of those who have mourned,
Show me the princess, whom they call snowborn.”
Elurra’s face appeared on the frosty glass. She was talking while riding on horseback, a smile tickling the corners of her mouth.
“Mirror, mirror, I don’t just want her face,
Please give me a wider view of the place!”
Nitiri growled. Not for the first time, she wished she’d paid more attention to her literature lessons as a child. She bristled when the view in her mirror widened, and she saw Kai smiling back at Elurra, his green eyes dancing in the bright morning light. She looked away, disgusted.
On her way to Amora, no doubt. However, there are still a few kings left for me to get.
“Tiberius, we need another Kutsal Stone. See if you can call more of your kind to our aid. It is high time we held a gala of our own.”
°◌°○●○°♣°○●○°◌°
The week and a half it took to ride back to the Amorian castle blurred together in a series of humid, exhausting days and warm, dreamless nights. Elurra’s muscles ached with all the weary hours of riding, and the tiring discussions about politics day in and day out made her brain hurt. She missed talking to her companions. Because they were commoners, they walked with the rest of the army, leaving Elurra to deal with Kai and the king. At least she still had Aleah, who’d taken up the position as her servant once again.
She’d always considered Kai a bit of a fool, but she quickly found she’d judged him unfairly. The only thing his father understood was politics, which Elurra’s tutors had been saving for her twelfth birthday. In her personal studies, she’d found the subject boring and ignored it completely in favor of history, natural science, biology, and mythology. In the king’s presence, however, she regretted ignoring the world’s political climate. Kai, on the other hand, seemed to know everything. When his father posed a tough question about Lur Alavian politics, and it was clear Elurra had no idea what to say, Kai smoothly cut in and helped her out. He knew much more about the struggles and rivalries in her kingdom than she did. She could feel the disapproving glares from Aleah, who was desperate to answer but knew her place.
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After two days and long lectures from Aleah each night, Elurra could hold her own. By the end of the week, she discovered agreeing with the king was the easiest way to stump him, as he seemed more interested in the debate than the topic, so he lost his will to argue when there was nothing to disagree on. If she could elusively agree without compromising any of Lur Alava’s freedoms, the king would lapse into silence, which she much preferred.
Elurra was relieved when they finally reached the castle and were assigned quarters The king had sent messengers ahead to the castle to inform them the prince was alive. He was planning a ball the night they arrived to celebrate Kai’s return and thank his rescuers.
All the guest rooms were richly furnished, and the overall splendor of the castle was breathtaking. A servant laid out an elegant, dark blue dress with too many ruffles and altogether too much finery for Elurra to wear.
“Someone will be up to help you into your dress and fix your hair in a few hours, madam. Until then, you and your guards are free to tour the castle. Simply ask for a guide if you wish to go anywhere,” the young girl informed her as she curtsied. She turned to go, but Elurra called her back.
“Can you find me a sharp knife?” Elurra asked. The girl paled and gave her a suspicious look.
“I promise I won’t use it against anyone,” she hastily explained.
“I will get you what you have asked for, Your Highness,” she said, though she looked suspicious as she exited the room.
The girl returned and handed Elurra the knife like she was handing her live coals before dismissing herself again.
Elurra couldn’t blame her. The cool metal gave her shivers. She didn’t like to think about the last time she’d been holding an Amorian blade. Terrin had saved her life then, and it was time to visit him. She wasn’t sure what terms they were on since she hadn’t talked to him in over a week. She pressed the knife against her thigh and made her way into the hall. Terrin was the only one of the dwarfs who got his own room. Everyone had the impression he was the captain of her guard, which she supposed was an accurate enough assumption.
“Terrin?” Elurra called as she knocked. No one answered. She pressed her ear against the door, and after a moment, tried the handle. It turned smoothly, and the door opened. Terrin was lying on his back, his face turned to the ceiling. He was asleep. She sat down beside him and noticed for the first time how tired he looked.
“I came to fix your hair, but I was expecting you to be awake,” she said softly.
It had been over a month since she last trimmed his hair, and he was looking much too shaggy for a royal ball. She shrugged and sliced off a strand of his tangled mane experimentally.
He didn’t stir.