RUNE

  In the tranquil hush of the early morning, the golden rays of sunlight filtered through the ornate windows of the grand hall as we gathered before Prince Theon Castell of Aurelia. His claim to the throne was tenuous at best, stemming from the fact that he was the younger of the two princes and thus more often overshadowed by his elder brother. Yet, there remained a flicker of hope in the court; should their father designate him as heir, Theon could assert his place.

  His reputation as a flirtatious scoundrel forewent him—tales of his mischievous escapades danced through the corridors of the palace, the history of his repeated sightings in Aurelia’s “Garden” and hosting women of the night and painting him as both a beloved rogue and a troubling figure among the nobility. With tousled blonde hair as gold as the summer sun and an easy smile that captivated many, Theon's charm often masked the restlessness simmering beneath the surface. His bright blue eyes, frequently sparkling with mischief, conveyed a sense of yearning for something beyond the confines of the royal expectations.

  Amid fortune, surrounded by gilded décor and luxurious silks that spoke of wealth, Theon seemed unfulfilled, almost restless. The power and luxuries that came with being a member of the royal family, intended to be a source of privilege and security, appeared instead to weigh on him. He longed for adventure, purpose, and a life that was not just defined by his lineage but by his choices. The early hour and serene atmosphere contrasted the lively spirit that dwelled within him, hinting at the complexities of a young man caught between duty and desire. Which is something I have grown to relate to over the many years.

  Typically, I wouldn't find myself attending royal meetings in Aurelia, especially considering my status as an adopted member of the Riviere Household. The Masters of Trades and close childhood friends of the royal family, my presence is not required for most meetings. Though I enjoy their respect and companionship, especially with the aid of a translator, for the most part, I am not required to attend meetings amongst the nobility, let alone Royalty- within the grand halls of Aurelia’s Palace, I am not recognized as nobility even though a noble house had adopted me. Instead, I serve as a cleric, a role cherished among my people, yet it feels laden with a weight of expectation. At this moment, I bear the responsibility of being the chosen envoy for the Elven Kingdom, it's an honorable but daunting task.

  As I settle at the imposing oak table, its surface polished to a reflective sheen and adorned with intricate carvings, a swell of discomfort envelops me. The lavish fabrics of the lords’ garments, woven with gold thread and shimmering jewels, stand in stark contrast to my simple but elegant robes. The atmosphere hums with a palpable tension; I am acutely aware of the divided sentiments surrounding my presence.

  Some members of Aurelia regard me with genuine interest, their eyes sparkling with curiosity as they inquire about my long lifespan, an existence that has spanned centuries. They lean in closer, eager to hear tales of my kin and the secrets behind my affinity for magic, the ability to bend the forces of nature and natural order at will. In their intrigue, I sense a sincere effort to bridge the chasm between our cultures and to step beyond the barriers of misunderstanding. Although there is a language barrier at times, I can't help but feel my heart swell with delight that they take their time to hear tales of my kingdom.

  However, not all eyes are kind. I can sense the glimmers of suspicion and disdain in the shadows of the lavishly decorated chamber. Some fixate on me with veiled hostility, and their whispered judgments paint me as a demon rather than a cherished healer. The very powers that others view some marvel at for their beauty as insidious—an unsettling reminder that the way we interact with each other is influenced by a complicated blend of how we see things and what we are taught. This delicate dance of acceptance and rejection weighs heavily on my mind, underscoring the fragile alliance that Aurelia and my home share.

  As the meeting quickly unfolded in a small room, sunlight streamed through the glass windows, illuminating the large table before us; I could only sit and remain calm and stone-frozen, My frustration palpable but unseen to those around me as I navigated through the unfamiliar bluster of languages and dialects surrounding me. Clad in My kingdom's elegant and traditional attire, I felt the weight of their stares and the unspoken judgments they held. My disdain was hidden behind the thin mask that fit securely over my face and scarved headpieces covering my hair and skin. I could only see fragments of light through the sheer black fabric covering my eyes. The gray mask was a religious symbol, displaying my status as a cleric in training from my home church. Worshiping the god we called Mother, I wore the mask to show my devotion to her in foreign kingdoms. Wearing such attire is a rarity for me, and as I wear it, the weight of the headpiece presses down, causing a strain on my neck; it didn't help that keeping my posture straight caused an ache that radiated throughout my body. The layers of rich, deep grey fabric cling to my clammy skin underneath, intensifying the discomfort as the warmth of the summer sun and fabrics envelop me like a heavy blanket, feeling almost suffocating.

  “Lord Riviere, your cleric does not remove their mask in front of his highness?” The hired hand asked as he gazed at me and then turned to the Nobleman who had escorted me to the meeting. Lord Elias Riviere of Silversong, a close friend of mine and in technicality, my family in Aurelia, Elias was also a childhood friend of Prince Theon and belonged to House Riviere, a charismatic household that managed the royal trade affairs between nations. When he stood at his full height, he towered over me, although when we walk together, he hunches over slightly to make the height difference less noticeable for me; it's a kind thought, but I worry about his back. Elias was fourth in line to the claim of his father’s heir. He was dressed in a deep slate grey garment accentuating his slender frame, making his shoulders appear broader. His clothing gave him a crisp and clean appearance, but his unruly, spiraling black locks defied all efforts to tame them.

  Nonetheless, I admired Elias's appearance; to me, he resembled aspects of the forest. His skin bore a comforting shade of brown, often reminding me of my favorite tree back home, where I sought solace during my prayers. Whenever I resided in Aurelia, I found solace within his company. His deep brown eyes almost appeared black unless looked upon in the sunlight. Elias chuckled, then looked down at me. Even with my sight hindered, I could feel that his gaze was soft and tender as it always is towards me. “It is a sign of respect to not show one’s face where Rune comes from. I'm sure you can appreciate culture when presented, Hugh. "Hugh sneered before turning his attention to Prince Theon, who was observing the scene. Elias’s background in trades made it only natural for him to be closely acquainted with me, the Cleric of the Elven Kingdom, who acted as lead representative for the Elven traveling caravan. "We will gather our supplies over the next week and then set out," Theon stated, rolling up maps and leaving with his hired assistants. With the black fabric covering my eyes, I relied on my training to navigate the surroundings. Listening closely to the receding footsteps. Looking around, confused, I followed Elias out of the room.

  “Why is the Prince traveling with us?” I asked, keeping my voice hushed. Elias looked around and leaned towards me. He wanted to know more about his potential bride-to-be. He thinks it's best if he goes and sees the hospitality of the Forest, as you are witnessing the hospitality of Aurelia and the royal family.” Elias replied in Elvish. I nodded my head. “Prince Theon is marrying one of my sisters?” I asked, crossing my arms. Elias nodded his head. “I apologize, Rune. I should have been writing down translations,” Elias said, placing a gentle hand on my back and guiding me through the long halls of the palace. “To give a brief recap: The arrangement includes a marriage between the two kingdoms: a princess from the elven kingdom is to wed the second prince of Aurelia, Prince Theon, as you already know.

  Solidifying the alliance that would benefit both kingdoms for generations.” Elias whispered as he bowed to the passing nobility, then paused, looking at a bench nearby before tracing a line on my back to signal me to walk in that direction. Once we sat down, Elias continued his lengthy explanation. “With your kind’s experiences and prolonged lifespans, it's a trait the King seeks for his lineage. However, I believe he is unaware that the birth rate of elven children has been rapidly declining .”Elias had leaned his head to the side as if he was playfully gossiping with me. I looked down at my lap and nodded my head along as he spoke. But it was true; my family hadn't had a child in centuries, and the higher nobility and lower class had been struggling with successful births, even with the clerics and those close to the divine, our attempts to manipulate the weave of the spirit realm and our plane of existence has been less than sufficient. Children have become a rarity; some houses only have one successful birth to support their lineage. I could see how my brother would venture to offer one of us to another race.

  “However, before Theon could agree to this marriage, he was told that he would be entertaining the elven envoys to determine whether the alliance with the forest kingdom would benefit Aurelia. Ensuring our safety and guarding us on our journey back to your homeland. We also hope to secure a new trade route with the seas during our travels.” Elias said almost too happily. “Your sisters will be here within a fortnight with a larger caravan to experience Aurelia, making the decision of marriage easier with the young prince.”

  “I don’t embark on the seas,” I said, my voice barely more than a hiss, as I locked my gaze onto his. An uncomfortable silence stretched between us; the air was heavy and thick, filling the space between us with anxiety and unspoken trauma. I clenched my jaw tightly, feeling like my teeth would break from grinding them. Elias took my trembling hands in his, his grip warm and reassuring, and whispered in a tone that dripped with compassion, “I know, Rune. Prince Theon doesn’t travel by ship either, so you have nothing to fear.”

  I stood, my back turned to Elias. Battling a frenzy of emotions, striving to mask the tremors of fear and anger that threatened to break free. I balled my hands into two tight fists to stop myself from holding myself in my arms and pacing around the courtyard. I looked over my shoulder to see Elias looking dejected, wiping his mouth, contemplating what to say next to soothe me. That's what he has always done; he has always had a way with his words and always knew the right thing to say to make things right; after all this time together, Elias knew better than to mention traveling by sea; he knew the horrors I had faced.

  I met Elias five years ago. His family was the first from Aurelia to enter the forest since my brother had sealed it off with a cloud of thick smoke, one that made rambling adventurers wander endlessly throughout the foliage, trapped in a torpor state. My brother poured years into protecting the Forest, and I was the reason why he had done so. It was five years before I had met Elias, ten years since the Forest had been sealed off to the neighboring kingdoms and cities, only open to those with a guide.

  It was ten years ago when picking flowers and drawing insects was innocent fun. On a warm spring morning ten years ago, I was ripped from the safety of my home, suddenly understanding what true fear really was. I could no longer hear the hums of bees or the wind swaying the tree leaves; I could no longer feel the warmth of the blazing sun or feel the small dampness of muddied grounds. I was in a dark, damp place that felt unfamiliar, and my stomach churned with each rock of the ship as deafening waves crashed against the sides. That's when I met him, someone to share my torment and anxiety, Lord Theodore. He was young, perhaps a teenager? His hair was a light brown and greasy; his clothes were tattered and torn. He had small scrapes on his face. I could recognize from anywhere that he had attempted to run through the Forest. I remember the fear on his face mixed with relief when he saw me, and I like to believe we had the same thought at that moment- We need to get out of here.

  Our escape took longer than we expected it would; our captors wouldn't get close to me in fear that someone of my kind would curse them; they feared my face, listening to old tales of how seeing an elf’s face would enchant them, and they would be enticed to free their exotic goods. At the beginning of our captivity, I was silent yet calculated. I had to be if we wanted to survive. I started by learning the footsteps of our captors. I wasn't afraid because I had Theodore, but when they placed a dark sack over my head and covered my hands, Theodore would reassure me that he was still nearby. We both had learned early on that we didn’t speak each other’s languages, which proved difficult; I wanted so desperately to ask how to find him and thank him when I returned home. All I got out of our journey was fleeting feelings that I would take years to learn their meanings. I learned that his name was Theodore, and in return, he called me Paige at the time; that was the best translation for my name, and I haven't let anyone call me by that name since. He taught me what it was like to love someone who wasn’t my family or myself. Theodore gave me my first kiss, which was an unnatural expression for me, but the way his lips brushed against mine felt absolutely right. I still cringe at how badly my hands were sweating at that moment after everything we had experienced. When I think about our first time attempting to experience divine pleasure, I want to shrink and hide my face as it went as poorly as one could imagine- leaving me with a sense of longing and a few well-worn trinkets. I will possibly forever regret leaving that Inn without knowing how to find him again.

  Once I had grown accustomed to Elias’s company, I shared my story with him, only to learn that There were no Lords named Theodore and that the name he had told me was either a lie or his background was. For a time, fury consumed me, then came a pang of deep sadness, but now, as a decade had passed in a blink of an eye, and having only the knowledge of his name, I feel indifferent- as if I am mourning a ghost but betrayed by my lover as if he had left me vulnerable, his memory comes in waves feeling as if he is a ghost haunting my memories. Still, I search for echoes of his presence, held back by a paralyzing fear of the ocean and surrounded by false hope and disappointment whenever I search for him. The only enduring token of my affection remains a ring, once adorned with a house sigil that has since worn away from me; rubbing it against my thumb in fits of anxiety.

  Leaving Elias behind, I made my way back to my chambers, the weight of the day weighing on my shoulders. As I entered, I ripped off the headpiece and veils that had suffocated me for far too long, feeling an exhilarating rush of freedom as I discarded the absurdly heavy fabrics of my ceremonial robes. The cool air brushed against my skin, feeling gross as my body glistened with sweat that had formed underneath my robes. I called for a servant to fill my bath; once they had left the room, I placed my mask down and sank down into the warm water that smelled of honey and Roses; my heart fluttered as the smell reminded me of home. Honey and roses were my mother’s favorite combination for a bath, and after she passed away, I adopted the scent of honey and roses as my own to honor her. Sitting with my knees to my chest, resting my chin slightly beneath the water, I closed my eyes, pretending the warmth of the steam was the warmth of my mother providing me comfort as if she could ease my soul yearning for relief after being reminded of being ripped from the forest and almost sold off, soothing my heart as it ached from longing and betrayal as Theodore weighed on my mind. After some time, I began to scrub my skin with sugar and fragranced soap. I let out a relieved sigh once I felt clean again. I plopped myself down onto the lavish bed—an extravagant piece adorned with silken pillows and rich, embroidered fabrics that felt indulgent even for someone of my status as a cleric in training.

  I closed my eyes and began to unwind the multitude of tight braids that held my long, wavy black hair in place throughout the day. Each tug released the pent-up tension coiled tightly in my scalp, and I reveled in the sensation, my fingers massaging the roots as they throbbed with relief. I rubbed my face, still feeling the heat of embarrassment from earlier, chastising myself for letting my emotions get the best of me. Only to snap out of my thoughts when a sudden knock at the door startled me. Grabbing a thin night dress out of my traveling chest, I slipped the smooth fabric over my head; the dress clung to my wet body, tugging on the bottom of my dress so it didn't tuck between my legs when I walked, tensing my shoulders as another knock occurred this one more polite than the prior “One moment!” I yelled out before grabbing my mask and tying the ropes behind my head.

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  Flustered, I adjusted my mask, a fragile barrier hiding my facial expressions and me. My breath caught in my throat as I was met with the sight of Prince Theon standing before me, thrown off guard as I had expected to be greeted by an apologetic Elias. He was elegant and slender, yet his broad shoulders conveyed a boastful strength radiating confidence. His attire had changed since our last meeting; he wore a simple white shirt, meticulously tailored with delicate, intricate embroidery tracing along the collar. Yet, despite its refinement, it hung loosely around his neck, the top button undone, giving him an air of nonchalance— unlike the polished appearance typically expected of royalty.

  His trousers complemented the shirt perfectly, crafted from soft, muted fabric that spoke of ease rather than ostentation. My gaze roamed over the subtle details of his outfit—how the fabric draped effortlessly over his form, emphasizing the lean lines of his physique. I couldn't help but marvel at the contrast; royal garments usually commanded attention, yet here he stood, exuding a captivating charm in casual elegance.

  As I tried to focus on his face, I realized I had been staring too long, captivated by the soft allure of his light pink lips. There was no denying that Prince Theon was physically captivating; his strong jawline and tousled blonde hair framed his features perfectly. With a reputation for indulging in Divine Pleasure with women of the night, I couldn’t help but think that he would excel at kissing—his experiences surely made him well-practiced. The enticing thought emerged that he could teach me, so if and if I saw Theodore again, it wouldn't be as awkward as the last time. My heart raced at the thought, grateful for my mask that somewhat concealed my blushing face. I pressed my lips into a thin line, biting down on my lower lip as I scolded myself for being curious about a charming prince and his scandalous past. I took a deep breath, remembering that he would be one of my sister’s husbands. Was it merely the recent memory of Theodore that stirred these feelings? Crossing my arms, I felt my nipples harden as I wondered how it would feel to kiss Theon’s lips, gasping as I shook my head, mentally screaming at myself for thinking about kissing anyone other than Theodore. I felt my cheeks flush at his calmness; this wasn't me, this isn’t me, and I didn’t understand why I was reacting this way, utterly captivated by him. I am not some maiden who is attracted to any man I see, yet here I am, staring at Prince Theon with a rush of desire that I struggled to understand. I couldn't help but feel disoriented standing in front of him.

  Theon tilted his head, a mix of curiosity and concern on his face. He gently tapped his lips before extending his arm toward me, offering a small white box. “It’s for you,” he said in Elvish, surprising me. Although his accent was thick, I understood him clearly, though he ended with a harsh tone that slurred the last syllable. I looked up at him, my smile fading into curiosity as I noticed his eyes had widened. “Is something the matter?” I asked, stepping closer, my heart quickening. My mouth parted when I approached him- Theon smelled good. He smelled as if he had sat by incents and, from their array of notes. He smelled of rich sandalwood with a hint of jasmine. Smiling softly, I mentally noted that Sandalwood and Jasmine were Theon’s scent.

  “No. I’m just surprised that the elvish envoy is a woman, let alone a cleric traveling with a few men,” Theon replied.

  “I don’t travel with men,” I said sternly.

  “Why is that?” Theon asked, his gaze drifting away as if he were pondering something else.

  “My reasons should be obvious,” I replied, looking away. My brother had told me that traveling long distances with adventurous men deprived of certain pleasures was a disaster waiting to happen. However, I never encountered such events as I only traveled with Elias and a small group of his hired men who, throughout the years, never made any attempt to do anything unbecoming of a gentleman.

  With a soft sigh, I grabbed a small blanket that rested nearby and draped it over my shoulders, my fingers brushing against the fabric as I cast a glance at the ornate box resting on the table. “What is it?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper as I lifted the lid, revealing a pair of exquisite golden earrings that curled elegantly around my pointed ears.

  “They translate for you in case you don't have Elias nearby,” Theon explained, tapping his own ear adorned with delicate gems. “I know little Elvish, but these will help fill in the gaps.” Confusion furrowed my brow as I studied the intricate craftsmanship of the earrings.

  “These are hard to make and have become quite rare,” he continued, a small, enigmatic smirk playing at the corners of his lips that sent a warm thrill through me. “It’s a gift from the royal family. I hope you find them useful.”

  I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear, bowing slightly to express my gratitude. Theon reciprocated the gesture. His posture was respectful yet somehow intimate. “I was curious about the princesses,” he began, crossing his arms thoughtfully, his gaze intensely fixed on me. “I’ve heard King Tale has five sisters, three of whom are eligible for marriage, yet I’ve only heard about two. Why not mention them all?”

  “Aurelia prefers its brides to be virgins, and King Tale wishes to uphold that tradition,” I replied, my voice tinged with a hint of sadness as I looked down. I felt embarrassed about myself and that his kingdom had such standards.

  “Is that the only reason you came here, Your Highness?” I asked, offering him a gentle invitation to enter my room.

  He shook his head, the glimmer in his eyes unabashed. “I hope you can join me for dinner so we can discuss our travel plans,” he said, his voice warm and inviting.

  I nodded eagerly, “Of course, Your Highness.” With a soft rustle, I stepped back to close my door, my heart fluttering in anticipation.

  I quickly rifled through my traveling chest; I prepared myself in a formal yet more casual clerical robe. Forgoing the corset and thick ropes that would take me quite a while to wrap around myself. I twisted my hair into a neat braid, wringing out the remaining water trapped in my locks. Taking a deep breath, I froze as I looked at myself in the mirror, acutely aware that Aurelia saw me as unworthy of marriage in its kingdom. A twinge of shame and guilt welled up inside me. My breath hitched at the thought of finding Theodore and bringing him shame, as their tradition is to marry virgins. Letting go of the breath I had been holding, I opened my door once more, allowing a smile to emerge beneath my mask. “Please lead the way, Your Highness,” I said softly as I walked beside Prince Theon.

  Theon

  The moment Rune opened the door, my heart stumbled at the sight of her. The air around us felt charged. No one of my informants had told me that the Cleric sent by the Forest was a woman, let alone a beautiful one at that, traveling vast and dangerous routes with little protection. I looked at her tenderly. Her wavy hair, adorned with droplets of water, framed her perfectly. Her voice sounded like a soft tune. Rune’s skin glowed with a warm, sun-kissed hue as if she had spent countless days wandering beneath the embrace of golden rays. I had expected to find her complexion concealed beneath layers of fabric, pale and pristine like fine porcelain. Yet, she stood before me, breathtakingly radiant, almost enough to make me worship her deity. She still wore a mask that shared no features. I could not help but wonder what her face looked like. How could an Elven woman flood my thoughts so soon?

  Throughout the years of visiting elven women who prostituted themselves in Aurelia, each was enchanting. Their pointed ears and the hues of their eyes glimmered as if they were constellations of various galaxies, some green, some amber, some a mixture of the two and gold. I gazed down at her tiny frame; I must have interrupted her while she was bathing. Her slim silk dress clung to her sides, and I could not help my eyes tracing her figure. My eyes lingered towards the dips of her hips, the curvature of her waist, then up the flat of her stomach before stopping at her nipples. They were deliciously peaked. A part of me wanted to cup her breast and take one into my mouth; I wanted to feel her against my tongue; I wanted to hear what a cleric sounded like as I did so- Did Rune’s god shun sex like Aurelia? Would my impulse be some sort of taboo? The thought of that being so caused a stir within my trousers. Before I could explore my impure thoughts, I inhaled slowly; oh my gods, what is wrong with me? A part of me felt embarrassed as I thought about what I wanted to do to Rune. I had literally just made her acquaintance today; although I had known of House Riviere adopting a cleric, I had never had the opportunity to interact with her. Looking back down at her, I found it difficult to read what expression she could be displaying. Her slender frame displayed no hints of her inner thoughts. Extending my hand to give her a gift from my father and myself, she looked down and draped a blanket over her shoulders- my cheeks flushing a vicious heat as she did so; she definitely caught me staring. I kicked myself for being a pervert and thinking about our nation’s envoy as a trivial lay. Rune glanced at the ornate box resting on the table, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "What’s inside?" she asked, her voice laced with a hint of surprise at my unexpected grasp of Elvish. Feeling thankful for my earrings, I could understand her question, my ears savoring the soft melody of her voice.

  I had asked my father to give a gift to her, having noticed her silent demeanor during our earlier discussions about the arrangement forged between him and King Tale. As she sat there, shrouded in layers of intricate veils and flowing robes, I couldn’t see her features, yet an unmistakable aura of frustration and confusion radiated from her. I could only feel a sense of guilt as I realized after the meeting that she probably felt conflicted about speaking up and inquiring more about the plans, given that our roles in society were drastically different.

  The more I watched her, the more I grew to understand the oddities I saw between Elias and Rune. Throughout the years, I watched Elias travel from time to time with Rune in between the two kingdoms. They were always touching or extremely close to one another. Elias would walk, hunching over to one side, keeping his voice low throughout the palace walls. Or when he sat next to her during a meeting, she would lean close to his ear and whisper. I had just realized that Elias had done all those things for Rune, given how slow she walked; gazing at her in between conversations, I wondered if the fabrics of her attire were heavy, if the mask and veil clouded her vision, seeing how she reacted before when she had opened the door I began to wonder if Elvish was the only language she knew. He wondered if Elias was the only person she had been able to grow close to since he was the master of trades.

  For a moment, he questioned why he had never reached out to her. He had known House Riviere had a cleric in their hold, but he had the chance to interact with her before. Could she know of the elf that brought him home? Would it be wrong to assume she knew every elf?

  Rune looked up at me; she was adorably shorter than me. I hummed as if I were asking for her attention. “I assume that since you plan on traveling back with the princesses, you will be bringing hired hands,” Rune asked, moving her body to accommodate the lack of facial expressions. I smiled, nodding my head. “Naturally.” I replied, “My men are well-chosen and trusting.” Rune paused, then turned at the door in front of her. “I don't believe it will be right to enter your bedchambers,” she said softly before looking over at the guards. “This isn't my bedchambers; this is a personal dining room for myself when I have guests to entertain.” Rune nodded her head and then waited for me to enter before following behind me, relaxing her shoulders slightly when the doors closed behind her. Rune stood with an elegant posture. When she walked, her footsteps were silent despite the size of her heeled boots. Ushering her to the table that I had prepared for her, she looked at the veiled half and then back at me. “You said King Tale respects Aurelia’s traditions, and I wish to respect yours,” I said as I lifted a corner for her to enter the small obscured space that sat perfectly across from me. Although I could not see her face, a part of me believed that she had given me the kindest smile. Rune sat down and slowly placed her mask on the table. “Thank you, your highness.” She said quietly. Sitting across from her, I picked up a glass of wine, sipping on it slowly as I observed her silhouette doing the same.

  A small pause passed before Rune spoke again, “You will need to hire women to travel alongside us; I don’t travel in large caravans with men, let alone with the princesses. I suggest you heed my request, or I will not be your guide through the Forest.” Rune said before taking a bite of fruit in front of her, “The gentlemen I have selected are Loyal; you have nothing to fear from them. They will not bother you," I reassured. A slight snicker escaped Rune’s lips. She cleared her throat after she regained her composure and adjusted in her seat. "You have placed your faith in men who will be away from temporary companionship. Even men amid war have their primal needs." seeing Rune place something on top of her head, she walked over and placed her hand on the table, leaning in closer and hovering over me as remained in my seat, looking up at her. To my surprise, she had placed on a veil, revealing only her obscured features in shades of dark grey and black, making it difficult for me to see her face even from this angle. Rune reached out slowly before tenderly placing her hand on my chin, cupping it slightly to force me to look at her; she drew me closer to her face. Submitting myself completely to her touch, my lips parting in a small gasp as her scent enticed me ."Curiosity and temptation always have a way of misleading men. Journeys only strengthen bonds, and with bonds come temptation and the allure of exploration," she whispered in a low voice and yet inexplicably seductive sounding as if she were casting a spell over me. My cheeks reddened as if were experiencing first love all over again, lulled by the honeymoon of a fresh relationship. I had been in the company of countless women in the past, but the emotions her words stirred inside me were something he had only experienced once before. My lovers were only elves; anyone that looked like Paige, I had taken to bed. I even went as far as to call myself the name I had told her in hopes of fulfilling the fantasy of being the one to give her what her kind calls divine pleasure. I paid countless women to play her role. I would pay anyone to enchant me as Theodore as Rune was doing to me now. Even though she spoke sternly, blood rushed to my cock although not enough to make my thoughts obvious. I cleared my throat to stifle the emotions surging through me. Composing myself, I steadied my breath, steeling myself for what I was about to do. With a deliberate, controlled motion, I rose to his full height and stepped forward, my hands coming to rest on the table on either side of her. Leaning in, I exerted just enough pressure to restrain her movement without causing discomfort, casting a commanding presence as I looked down at her from above. Her body fit perfectly in between mine, and as close as my face was to her, I could see that she wasn't startled by her sudden predicament; her mouth was parted as her chest rose and fell quickly. I could hear a small gasp escape her lips; even the faintest sigh from her clouded my judgment. She looked up at me as if she were contemplating her next words carefully. I tilted my head slightly as I watched her body movements; she enjoyed this, the way she gripped the table as if something inside her had pulsed. I felt a frenzy stir within me; my attraction to her was entering dangerous territory. I had to say something quickly before I found myself buried in between her legs. “You have made your point. I will have a list of women for you to choose from. Please enjoy your meal, Cleric.” I said, acknowledging defeat, feeling a sense of shame hearing the sudden harshness of my voice. Freeing Rune from my grasp, I sat back down once she had sat in her provided chair.

  She sat quietly, the weight of unspoken thoughts hanging in the air, searching for a topic to ease the tension that had settled between us. Breaking the awkward silence, I glanced over at Rune. “So...Elias, you two are close,” I remarked, uncertain if it came out as a question or a mere observation.

  “I would certainly hope so,” Rune replied, placing her delicate cup down with a gentle clink. “We have been together for quite some time. Do you always speak his name so casually?” There was a hint of curiosity in her tone as if she were trying to gauge the depth of my connection with Elias.

  I smiled, warmth flooding through me as I thought of our upbringing. “Elias has been my friend since birth. He’s more of a brother to me than my own, so yes, it’s a name I hold dear.” Rune let out a soft hum as if my answer had pleased her.

  With a fluid movement, Rune lifted her mask and placed it delicately against her face, concealing her expression once more. She then rose to her feet, her presence commanding yet graceful. “Thank you for dinner. There’s no need to delve into travel details; I know the way.” Her voice was measured, and she offered a slight bow of her head, an elegant farewell, before quietly departing the room. The echo of her footsteps lingered, filling the space she left behind.

  Finishing up my cup, which led to several wine bottles, I found myself stumbling into Aurelia’s Garden, a brothel in the lower district that catered to any fantasy for the right price. I closed my eyes as I plopped myself on a pile of large, feathered pillows, letting the smell of incense and intoxicating herbs fill my nostrils.

  My thoughts were ensnared by conflicting desires, each tugging at the corners of my mind. She haunted my thoughts, a looming presence who stirred my longing, yet I found myself unable to pinpoint her identity. Was it Paige, with her ghost of a memory encapsulating my needs, or was it Rune, who ignited a sudden fire within me? It did not matter who I had bedded; she was merely playing a role, and I was being lulled by her moans deeper into the fantasy of delving into the one I wanted: Paige. I imagined her back arched as she was whimpering my name as I gave Paige her first orgasm. To feel her nails, dig into my back, marking me as her own. Because I belonged to her entirely, I craved her, and disappointment enveloped me as I awoke each morning with a woman that wasn't her. I played into my fantasies of fucking her to her peak because I didn't when I had her. We were young and inexperienced, and I didn't even know how to prep a woman at the time, so when she jumped, ultimately headbutting my chin and knocking me clean out the moment I had entered her, I regretted that her first time went like that, and that was the moment I wanted to change.