[ Loraven ]
The look on the princes’ faces was comical, though it shouldn’t have been. Their opinion or anything they did should not have held any part of her attention. The humans were below them. Still, Loraven could not seem to control herself before them.
Her expression was masked once more after being scolded by her mother. Her father, like the fae Prince he was, took pleasure in mocking the princes’ looks and the way they lived. For so reason, her chest felt tight, and his words grated her. Still, her face remained expressionless whilst watching the pair.
Prince Osian could not quite hide his displeasure, but he did not act out like he did to her before. Loraven wondered if he would have still acted in such a way if he knew who she was. It was intriguing, which was why she preferred keeping her identity a secret. Though most elves and fae knew who she was in these parts. At least as a ranger to those who did not know her did not hide their true personalities.
On the other hand, Prince Selvin’s composure was what most prideful Kings could not match. He stood there, not understanding the language, but his eyes revealed his understanding of their mockery. Those kind eyes she’d seen by the lake were now glinted dangerously, making her wonder about his thoughts. But she could only discern this from paying him more attention than those around them would.
"Ah, my apologies, your highnesses. Most of our people do not speak outside of the Muranthian language," Queen Iolena lied. She did not look apologetic, and her smile was more of a smirk. She then clapped her hands. "You ca here for a feast, so let it begin."
Like with all of their feasts that welcod guests, they liked to reveal the splendour of the kingdom’s wealth and superiority. A spark of elven magic made tables and chairs form from the icy floor. The motion was smooth as they ford into the furniture. The crowd gasped and clapped.
It was the first ti in Loraven’s lifeti that they had used the gift of ice to create such structures. It was rare, even among those in Lyvaria, to have such a gift. At the previous feast, her father used his own powers to create the tables. It was wonderous in its own way, with flowery vines and wood creating such artful structures. These were still rather bland in comparison, but the display was still jaw-dropping.
Well, to those who were not used to seeing magic. The human Princes watched in awe. Prince Osian was still yet to completely mask his features, or maybe that was how he was. Prince Selvin, on the other hand, smiled and clapped politely.
Queen Iolena stood from her throne and began to make her way to the head table that was like a long semicircle. King Nuvian followed behind her, his large sheer golden wings falling behind him and dragging along the floor. They sparkled like fairy dust, adding to his beauty which was known among the fae and elven lands.
Sitting down at the table, Loraven sat beside King Thalinal at the far end of the table from her parents. They preferred Thalinal there, and she preferred not to be watched like a hawk, though wherever she went here, it would always be the case. On her other side were other nobles, and friends of her parents, all similarly cruel in their discussions and in their deeds.
But as the princes were guests and not used to such perverse cruelties, it was uncharacteristically drama free. Only two people were killed, one through poisoning and the other because they did not laugh at the King’s joke.
After the al that seed to drag with the pointless discussion from elven nobility at her side and the stiff and awkward atmosphere from her parents to Prince Selvin and Prince Osian, Loraven sighed in relief. Loraven did not make it too apparent, but she tried saving the princes from so of her parents’ humiliation. Though each ti she did, it did not go unnoticed by either the King or Queen.
In previous visits before, Loraven had not shown much interest in the guests, or she simply did not turn up. Lyvaria was not a place that could not be left alone unguarded for long. Yes, they had patrols, but Loraven had grown used to being away from the palace more than residing in it. Though the ice was warm inside, the treacherous weather outside was warr.
Loraven may be as cold as any other Lyvarian, but her parents were cruel, both spurring each other on. This display was actually extrely mild compared to how they usually acted. But this was most likely because of the treaty. They did not need it, not really, but it stopped most humans from crossing over their lands and then complaining of the perilous journey with beasts like no other. It was all so botherso.
Servants arrived to clear the dishes, and the serene music that had been playing turned to one ready for their dances. Unlike the boring balls the human realms held, their dances were much more fun. Firstly because nobody wore heels that made their feet bleed or boots.
Once the tables were cleared of dishes and guests, the tables lted and rged back with the floor. The night sky outside was not clear from so of the clouds passing by the clear ice walls, but parts of the mountain were lit up through torches and trails. Loraven strolled to the other side, her eyes lowering to the river far below in the distance.
Its dark waters could only be seen from the glistening of the stars and moon. Besides that, everything was blanketed in snow. "*I am surprised you are here and not protecting those ducklings.*" Thalinal’s mocking voice brought a smirk to her lips, and she turned to look at him.
"*Speaking of ducklings, how is Arawn?*" Loraven asked, ignoring the jab from the King of Flori. He must have also noticed her uncharacteristic comnts earlier at the table, helping the princes where she could. She still could not understand why because it would cause her more of a headache.
Thalinal sighed, "*he seems to be rebelling.*"
"*Oh?*" Amusent flashed behind Loraven’s eyes as she began to assess the room, a silver and light blue flute in her hand. "*How so? Is he not too old for that now?*"
"*I do not know. He is roaming too far from our lands. I worry he will be intrigued by the downfall of the human kingdoms. There is so much corruption there it sickens even thinking of it.*" Thalinal made a twisted expression making Loraven sip from her wine, her gaze landing on the princes again.
Prince Selvin appeared to be making conversation with so of the nobles, but many started to turn away from him like he was a slly beggar on the street. Prince Osian seed to be talking rapidly with his older brother, expressing his annoyance. The Crown Prince shook his head and made so calming gestures. The younger Prince needed to learn to control that temper of his, not that the elves surrounding them cared.
It was more amusing to them that they got under his skin.
"*I think you worry more that he will find a woman not up to your standards.*" Loraven then gasped, placing her hand over her lips with mocking eyes. "*Imagine if said woman was a human!*"
"*Ha. Ha. That is not funny. I will cut them down before his icy heart so much as flutters,*" Thalinal replied icily. Then looked to where her gaze still lingered. "*I worry more about your interest in the ducklings.*"
Loraven had already started to walk away from Thalinal in his mighty black attire and bright moonlight-like hair, and thorny crown. She ignored his comnt, waving him off. It was all nonsense, and she placed her drink on a passing silver tray before picking up two more flutes. At her smooth approach, those around the princes started to back off, her hard stare making a few quiver and back away swiftly.
"Would you like a drink?" Loraven asked, making Prince Selvin’s head whip to the side, unaware that she had approached.
"Please," Prince Selvin smiled and seed to relax in her presence. His stiff shoulders lowered, and his face softened.
Well, that was a first.
Loraven passed the drink to him, and he clinked their glasses in salute. She found the gesture odd but went along with it anyway. "Oh, that would be great, thank you," Prince Osian spoke up from his older brother’s other side.
"Hmm, you know where they are," Loraven replied, sipping on her wine and glancing at a passing servant.
"Really?" Prince Osian almost growled, making Loraven smirk in amusent.
When the younger Prince was gone, Prince Selvin tilted his head slightly, gazing at her. She ignored it as her gaze was on the dance floor where the elves stomped their feet, skipped and twirled their partners in the air to upbeat music. The only ti their expressions were not stony, and their smiles and laughter were real.
"It is fun to have a younger sibling. They are easy to annoy," the Prince said with a smile.
"Is that so? I would not know. Though I do find his highness more amusing to play with," Loraven replied with a slight smirk.
She could feel her parents’ gaze on her and knew she could not stay by Prince Selvin’s side for much longer. They might start to bring up marriage to her again, and she did not want to marry those they’d already proposed to her. If she kept denying them, her opinion would not matter soon, and she would be forced to marry whoever they chose.
Loraven glanced at her parents and gulped involuntarily. Her father was tornting so poor soul, but her mother’s blank, expressionless gaze chilled her.
"Enjoy the rest of your evening." Loraven held her glass out, and a servant instantly took it from her. She bowed her head at the Prince, about to make a quick getaway when his hand slid into hers, halting her actions.
Loraven’s breath hitched, and she looked back at Prince Selvin in surprise. He smiled, releasing her hand and turned his palm up. She looked at his hand like she’d never seen it before and t his gaze.
"Would you do the honour of this dance?" The Prince asked, his smooth voice wrapped around her and making her heart skip a beat. What was wrong with her heart? Was she unwell?
That was highly unlikely. It was not lust or passion but sothing warm with a strange fluttering in her stomach. She’d been asked to dance before, but this was the first that caused such a reaction in her. How silly.
Was it because he looked better than the last ti she saw him. The navy of his clothes sohow made his kind, blue eyes shine much brighter. They were so clear and full of compassion. They were like nothing she’d ever seen before. And she had travelled and seen plenty.
In all that ti, this Prince was the first to hold her attention like so.
"You know how to dance to this, your highness?" She asked, her voice slightly breathy.
Prince Selvin smiled. "I do. Please just call Selvin."
"Then lead the way, Selvin." Loraven placed her hand in his, and Selvin started to lead her towards the dance floor. All eyes were on them, but the warmth of his hand and his presence were soothing and comforting. So much so that she didn’t want to ever let go.
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