The Broken Elf King (Kings of Avalier Book 2)
The Broken Elf King: Chapter 2

The next morning I woke up with purpose. I was going to change my outlook. I wasn’t an indentured servant, I was the hired hand of a royal. My contract was five years and then I could pursue my career in medicine.

This was just a blip in the road map of life.

After washing up, I found a beautiful silk lavender-colored gown waiting on the dressing bench outside the washroom. Slipping into it, I braided my long brown hair over one shoulder and applied some light blush and lip stain.

Personal assistant to the king.

All my days of studying, reading books, learning languages, tackling challenging mathematics and the sciences, it was all about to pay off.

I puffed my chest up.

There was a knock at the door and I was greeted by Mrs. Tirth.

She looked flustered, sweat beading her brow and hair falling from her bun. “You look pretty,” she told me.

“Thanks.” I smiled.

She exhaled as if catching her breath and then handed me a piece of parchment. “I’m late for orientation for the new hired help. Here is the king’s schedule for the week and meeting notes from last week. You are to brief him of last week’s meeting before he goes in so he remembers what was talked about.”

I nodded. How busy did someone have to be in order to forget what they spoke about just a week ago?

“The king is hungry. You must taste the food. Come!” she barked, and then took off down the hall.

Food taster. I almost forgot.

I finished strapping my right heel in the silver sandal and then took off at a brisk pace after her. As we rushed to the kitchens, I skimmed the schedule.

Farmers’ Union meeting.

Elder Council meeting.

Prospective wives family meeting.

Hospital rounds.

Bow Men meeting.

Lunch.

Treasurer Tax meeting.

Land Survey meeting.

Mining Union meeting.

Dinner.

I felt tired just looking at the list of meetings. My head spun as I imagined how much information would be crammed into them. I hoped the king had a typewriter, but by the look of the quill and parchment on his desk yesterday, I doubted it. My hand was going to hurt by day’s end.

The humans of Nightfall excelled in engineering and machinery. Inventions were encouraged and the queen paid bonuses for useful things, but I knew outside of Nightfall those things were not encouraged and so they lived “behind the times,” as we liked to say.

Mrs. Tirth burst into the kitchen, where the chef was waiting, looking down his nose at me.

“Kailani, this is Chef Brulier,” she said.

He took one look at my nice dress and braided hair and raised an eyebrow. “New taster?”

“For now, until the king can get someone else,” Mrs. Tirth explained.

The chef held the plate out to me and I took it, eyeing the delicious meat pie slice and fruit compote.

“How much do I eat?” I asked Mrs. Tirth.

“A large bite, but try not to disturb the food too much. It must still be presentable. If you notice anything bitter or foul, speak up. If you feel sick, dizzy, or off in any way, say something immediately.”

Nerves rolled through my stomach. I was about to taste food for poison. Suddenly my job didn’t look so rosy. Though it could be worse. I could be washing dishes like the girl at the back of the kitchens. I remembered her from yesterday, the one I had conversed with. We’d never even traded names.

Taking the fork, I dug under the beautiful browned top crust and poked a large hunk of meat and potatoes dripping with gravy. I was careful not to disturb the top crust, but I made a point to cut into the bottom crust. If the crust were poisoned I’d have to sample it to see.

Placing the food into my mouth, I chewed slowly. A burst of flavor splashed across my tongue, peppery, creamy, and delicious.

“Yummm,” I moaned, and the chef perked up, looking pleased.

“Bitterness? Throat burning? Dizziness? Stomach cramping?” Mrs. Tirth asked.

I shook my head and then she pointed to the fruit compote.

I was handed a fresh fork and grabbed a sizable chunk of melon dripping with honey. I popped it into my mouth and chewed. Sugary goodness filled my mouth and I waited for any taste of bitterness, but there was none.

Mrs. Tirth consulted a pocket watch. “One more minute.”

It hit me then—They’re waiting one minute to see if I’ve been poisoned.

My heart picked up as I too waited for any symptoms. After a moment, she looked me over. “Good?”

I nodded, giving her a thumbs-up.

“You are to serve him the plate. If a waiter does it, you have to taste it again,” Mrs. Tirth said.

Wow. This guy was paranoid. I knew most kings and queens were, but this was next level. I nodded, grabbing the plate, and then Mrs. Tirth pointed to two double doors. “Brief him for the first meeting over breakfast. And good luck! I’ve got to run,” she said, and then took off, leaving me holding a plate of poisonless food and the stack of notes from last week’s meeting.

Walking across the busy kitchen, I neared the double doors and a waiter opened it for me. He was holding a plate almost identical to mine.

Raife was sitting at the head of an extravagant table just inside of the room. Alone.

I eyed the waiter suspiciously.

I have the king’s food,” I said loudly and forcefully. Why did he have an identical plate? Was he going to switch them last minute? Was I going to foil an assassination plot on my very first day?

The waiter nodded. “And I have yours.”

Heat crept up my cheeks and I muttered an apology, stepping into the room.

“Good morning, my lord,” I greeted the king, who was looking over some parchments.

He stared up at me, his eyes slowly raking over my dress in a way that caused even more heat to creep up my cheeks.

The waiter placed my plate in front of the seat next to the king and left.

I set down the plate I held in front of Raife. “No bitter taste and no sickness have befallen me,” I told the king before sitting beside him.

He nodded, leaning forward to smell the food slowly. As the realm’s most powerful healer, I knew he could smell most poisons, but I also knew there were a handful of odorless ones.

“Did you think the waiter was trying to poison me?” he asked suddenly, and I swallowed hard, knowing I couldn’t lie to him.

Great, he’d overheard me.

“Yes. I’m sorry if I offended him. I just—”

“Don’t ever apologize for trying to protect me. I don’t care who you offend in the process.”

Oh, well, that was refreshing.

I nodded, and he picked up his fork, staring at his plate.

I grabbed mine as well, having enough proper manners to know that I needed to wait for the king to eat first. He looked… nervous.

Did he fear the food wasn’t safe? “My lord, are you okay?”

Maybe it wasn’t right of me to ask such a personal question, but he seemed to be lost in his mind right now, frozen with the fork over his plate like a man stricken.

He released a breath, shaking himself slightly. Piercing a piece of the fruit, he popped it into his mouth and chewed. I relaxed a little, taking a bite of my own food.

“I’m sure you know that the Nightfall queen killed my entire family?” His question was so blunt I actually gasped, not prepared for it.

Why was he bringing that up now? Over breakfast. I set my fork down and met his eyes. “Yes, my lord. Everyone knows.”

He nodded. “Do you know how she did it?”

I winced. Of course not. No one asked for such a detail when they found out that an entire royal family had been slaughtered. All I’d heard was that the queen had taken them all out and left only one. Him.

He took a deep breath and looked at his food once more. “Poison. She poisoned them all in front of me.”

My entire body froze. I couldn’t move, didn’t breathe.

The king pierced a piece of fruit and placed it in his mouth and chewed robotically. “I don’t enjoy mealtimes. It’s something you should know about me.”

I could feel tears welling in my eyes, but I didn’t think he would appreciate my pity, so I blinked them back and nodded. He watched them all die of poison? Clutching their throats as their stomachs burned? I’d heard his youngest sibling was six years old at the time. It made me sick. A few tears spilled over onto my cheeks no matter how badly I tried to keep them held back.

The king watched me, saying nothing as I processed his pain as if it were my own.

He cocked his head slightly to the side. “Do you cry easily?”

Embarrassment flushed through me. I wouldn’t say that, I was tough, but… sometimes if someone was in pain I couldn’t help but sympathize.

“I’m sorry, my lord.” I wiped my cheeks.

He stood, took two steps until he was looming over me, and then bent down until he was right beside my face. A wave of sadness crept into my heart, nearly crushing me, and I gasped. He gasped as well, and then stumbled backwards. I turned to face him. His eyes were wide and he was clutching his chest.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. This casual business breakfast had taken an unexpected turn.

“You’re an… empath,” he stated, stepping farther away from me, and my sadness and despair faded with every step.

“A wh-what?” My head finally cleared and I was able to focus on the now and not think of the haunting memory of his dying family.

His brows knotted together and he stepped closer again, this time coming right up against me so that his right arm brushed against my left.

My sharp intake of breath matched his. Guilt, sorrow, agony, anger, revenge, so many emotions warred within me, threatening to eat me alive. But when I stared up at the king I saw… peace. He looked like he could breathe for the first time. A contented sigh escaped him as my stomach tied into knots with all of this sudden emotion.

“I forgot what it felt like,” he said wistfully.

I was so confused I could only breathe through whatever was happening.

The doors to the dining hall opened then and he stumbled backwards away from me, taking four huge steps to create distance.

“The Farmers’ Union has assembled in the meeting hall,” a young Bow Man said.

Raife cleared his throat. “Thank you, Cahal.”

The king sat at the table and began to eat again, letting out a shaky breath between bites. “Brief me on this meeting,” he said as if he hadn’t just walked over and downloaded all of his sadness into me.

I wanted to laugh, I wanted to ask him what the Hades an empath was, but I also wasn’t sure I was ready for that information. All the wheels were turning in my head now. The times my aunt’s seizures would come on and I just knew a moment before and could position myself behind her. When passing the town drunks my mind felt hazy. The rage I felt when near the boxing matches.

I—

“Kailani?” The king looked at me sternly.

I snapped out of my thoughts and picked up the meeting notes from last week. “I’m sorry, my lord. The Farmers’ Union is demanding you divert more water from the Great River, which contradicts with the Elvish Land Survey Council. They say it will affect the fish and other regions. They recommend boring a hole and building a well instead.”

He nodded. “Cost and length of time to bore the well?”

I scanned the notes. “Ten gold coins and… three months’ time.”

Three months by hand. You could bore a well in a day with a machine in Nightfall, but I didn’t say that. Ten gold coins seemed like way too much, but I kept my mouth shut about that too.

His eyes narrowed. “Ten gold coins for three months’ work?”

I inclined my head. “I also feel it is excessive, my lord.” Considering I was making one gold coin a year as the king’s assistant.

“Find more information on the well digger. The crown’s coin purse will not bleed for the farmers no matter how much they threaten low crop yield,” he snapped.

“Yes, my lord.” I jotted down a to-do list.

Info on well digger.

Get more estimates?

He placed one last bite of food in his mouth and then stood. “Very well, let’s go.”

I popped a melon cube in my mouth and gathered my things, following the king as he led us out of the room.

ALL THROUGH THE FARMERS’ meeting, I kept thinking of only one thing.

Empath. Empath. Empath.

Did he mean it casually or as a thing? Was an empath a thing? An elf thing? A magic thing?

“Kailani?” King Raife looked at me and I blushed. I never zoned out like this; it was embarrassing.

“I’m sorry, my lord. Yes?” I kept my voice pleasant and my pen poised on the parchment.

The lead farmer, Mr. Wilco, nodded to me. “I was just saying how nice it was to meet you.”

I bowed my head slightly. “And you, sir. I look forward to our next meeting.”

He stood and the other half dozen farmers stood with him, seeing themselves out.

I immediately turned to the king. “I’m so sorry, sir. I hope I didn’t embarrass you. That won’t happen again.”

I did not want to get fired on my first day and then be relegated to washing dishes for five years. Or probably ten, since that job most likely paid much less.

He nodded. “It better not, because my council is next, and there is something you should know about them.”

I physically flinched a little at the verbal reprimand but dipped my chin. “What is it?”

He leaned in closely, lowering his voice. “They have been threatening for two years to overthrow me if I do not marry and start a family.”

Shock surged up inside of me. “That’s treason,” I growled.

He appraised my sharp response with interest and I found myself studying his face at this close of a distance. I’d known this man all of twenty-four hours and yet I felt like I’d known him longer. It was hard to explain. There was an ease in his presence, something comfortable and familiar.

His face looked much like one printed in our Nightfall history books, but more manly. Those were a few years old when he still had some boyishness to his features. The strong jaw I now peered at, the shadow of a beard and full soft lips, the arresting blue eyes, were all man.

“Normally, it would be treason yes, but there is a clause in our founding laws.” He pulled me from my thoughts. “If the entire royal family is killed, or cannot, or does not, have children by a certain age, then the council can unanimously vote them out and then vote in a new four-person quorum.”

A quorum? End the monarchy? It was a wild idea. Every territory in Avalier had a king or queen. I couldn’t imagine anything else. Either you were born with royal blood or you weren’t.

I nodded. “So you really do need my help replaceing a wife.” I pulled out a fresh piece of parchment.

He looked wistfully out the window as if the idea of having a wife saddened him.

“But you don’t want that, do you?” Maybe it was an overstep but I couldn’t help it. If I was going to replace him a wife, I should know why he didn’t want one. He was over twenty winters old! That was ancient in royal terms. He should be married with two or three heirs by now.

He swallowed hard, and then looked at me with an expression that made chills rise up on my arms. “Why would I want to fall in love and bring children into this world just so that the Nightfall queen can kill them too?”

His words sliced through my heart so fiercely that I felt a physical ache. I must have winced in pain, because he leaned backwards and away from me.

“But I must marry if I am to keep my position as king, so you will have to help me replace someone tolerable,” he added.

“But not too lovable?” I asked. His look was a warning and I immediately lowered my head. “I’m sorry, my lord.”

“Once the council is off my ass, I can plan the war to take down the queen.”

I froze. “Overthrow the Nightfall queen?”

He nodded, looking pleased with himself, as if the act would bring him great joy. I was sure it would, but it was also the most dangerous thing I’d ever heard.

“No one gets near her unless they’ve served in her army for at least five years. She’s got contraptions and gadgets that make her have powers akin to the magic users in the realm. My lord, she’s untouchable.”

He appraised me with pride. “And it seems I have chosen the best assistant to help advise me in matters of the queen.”

It hit me then. One of the first things he’d told me: “You grew up in Nightfall under the queens rule.

“That’s why you hired me?” I tried to hide the hurt in my voice. I’d thought it was maybe the organic chemistry or the fact that I’d kicked that trader’s ass and impressed him.

He inclined his head. “Mostly, yes. You’re the best candidate for the job.”

I simply nodded, feeling stupid for having thought that he might have been impressed with my other qualities. It didn’t really matter anyway. I was paying off my debt and he was a decent man. He didn’t seem like he would beat me or anything, and I wasn’t washing dishes, so all in all I was still counting this a win.

The meeting hall doors opened then and I turned in that direction. Four tall male elves entered the room and bowed deeply to the king.

“You may be seated,” the king told them.

Their eyes flicked to me and I gave them a small smile, which was not returned. They all sat with stiff posture and clasped hands. Their ages varied from thirty to sixty years old, and as I looked closer I could tell one pair were father and son. The two men had black hair, though one was feathered with gray, and both had the same hooked nose. The other two elves were both brunettes. All of them had the typical long hairstyle with braided sides.

“Council, this is Kailani Dulane, my new personal assistant,” the king said and gestured to me. “Kailani, this is Haig, Aron, Greylin, and Foxworth.” He pointed to each one.

The eldest, Haig, the black-haired one with gray running through, raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware Joana was leaving. We would have helped you in your search for a new staff member,” he said.

The king leaned back casually in his chair. “I wasn’t aware I needed to tell you the ins and outs of my private staff, Haig. Nor that I needed help hiring staff.”

The man’s jaw grit at the reprimand. “You do not, Your Highness. It was simply an offer to help make sure you had the highest caliber candidate possible.”

His gaze flicked over to me and his nostrils flared. He was smelling me and I suddenly felt uncomfortable.

“Half human?” Haig looked affronted at what he’d scented. “Can you really trust a human on your staff?”

The king groaned as if he was already tired of this question. “She’s taken a protection vow. I’m not an idiot!”

Haig reeled back at the snap and I kept quiet.

Haig’s son, Aron, the one who looked just like him but younger, stared at the quill in my hand. “She can read and write?” He sounded surprised.

Okay, I’d had quite enough of this.

“Yes, she can,” I said in Old Elvish. “In three different languages,” I finished in New Elvish.

The king grinned and the council looked flustered at this turn of events. A long silence stretched out and I cleared my throat. “The king has informed me of his excitement at taking a wife and I am eager to help,” I lied, which caused the king’s grin to fall. He knew I’d just lied but I was hoping the council didn’t. The king was anything but eager.

Haig nodded. “Yes. A wife and heirs are of the utmost importance now.”

“Unless of course he no longer wants to rule, which is why he’s delayed taking a wife?” Foxworth said. I remembered him by the nervous eye blinking he kept doing.

The king’s eyes narrowed. “I am eager to shut you all up.”

Ouch. The king was kinda hot when he was laying a smackdown on his council.

Haig cleared his throat and pulled a folded letter from his robes, handing it to the king. “A list of a dozen of the most influential families in Elf City.” Haig nodded. “Their daughters are all single, cleared for breeding, and eager to meet you.”

I choked on my own spit at cleared for breeding, coughing and smacking my chest wildly. The king looked mildly concerned but I waved him off and took a sip of water.

“Apologies,” I said.

The king opened the letter and glanced down at it briefly before handing it to me.

The names looked familiar. Frowning, I flipped to the schedule of meetings today. Right after this conference we had one called the Prospective wives family meeting. The attendees’ names were the same.

“My lord, we have a meeting with these families next,” I told him.

He looked surprised, but then covered it.

Haig nodded. “I took the liberty of inviting their parents to a roundtable. They can tell you about their daughters and you can pick the top five to invite to a joint dinner.”

My eyes widened. “Dinner all together?”

Haig looked down his crooked nose at me. “Yes, in the interest of time. What would you know about courting a queen?”

It was a challenge; he’d been rude to me since the second he walked in here. I needed to nip it in the bud now or he’d forever think me a pushover. My gaze flicked to King Raife, and he nodded the slightest bit as if saying go get ‘em.

I shrugged to Haig nonchalantly. “Oh I don’t know, considering I’m the only one in this room with breasts, I guess I know more than any of you.”

Now it was King Raife’s turn to choke on his own spit. It sounded like a laugh which gave way to a cough.

Even stuffy old Foxworth cracked a grin. I’d gained the respect of one of them, I guessed I couldn’t ask for more.

Haig opened his mouth to rebuke when the king spoke: “It’s settled, then. Five different dinner dates. Getting to know each woman separately. I wouldn’t want my future wife to feel as if I chose her in the same way I choose my cattle.”

I gave a triumphant nod, making a meeting note and ignoring the icy glare from Haig.

I wanted whichever woman Raife chose to have a fair shot at winning his heart. She deserved dinner with the king alone.

Haig stood, prompting the others to stand as well. “I want an engagement by next month. We have counseled you since you were a new king at the tender age of fourteen. This is what’s best for all of Archmere and you know it. No more messing around!” Haig pounded his fist on the table and then they all left.

My eyebrows rose, and when the door closed I looked over at the king. “If they talked to the Nightfall queen like that, she’d behead them.”

He gave me a cool stare. “I’m not the Nightfall queen, and I know they seem disrespectful and overcontrolling, but you have to understand I became a king before I could even grow a beard. They’ve all become somewhat of father figures and uncles to me.”

My heart pinched then, and I saw the whole thing in a new light. Haig was like the overbearing father who forced you to do what was good for you, even if you hated it.

I nodded. “Well, time to meet the families and pick our top five. This could be fun.” I tried to lighten the mood. “What kind of things are you into? I can try to match someone with common interests. You don’t want to be stuck with someone forever who hates reading if you love it. Or who talks too much if you like quiet time,” I said.

He looked at me and chuckled. “I like quiet time and you talk too much.”

It was playful so I laughed. “Well, it is a good thing I am not in the running to be your wife. What else?”

He shrugged. “I like chess when I have time. Archery of course. Fine cuisine. Reading. Walking through the lily gardens, and most of all healing my patients.”

I’d heard only rumors, but the elf king had an entire infirmary erected in his name and was the greatest healer in all the realm. I’d love to see him work with his patients, and hoped that was still part of the job description since he’d all but promised it to me if I stayed out of the way.

I jotted it all down.

Quiet time.

Chess.

Archery.

Gardens.

Food.

Reading.

Healing.

“What about looks? Are you into blondes? Redheads? Tall? Athletic?” I asked.

The king raised an eyebrow and his gaze traveled down from the tip of my nose to my cleavage and back up. “Pretty is pretty, I don’t care what color package it comes in,” he said, and I felt my cheeks heat.

Okay…

Pretty, I added to my list, and then there was a knock at the door.

“Enter,” the king said.

A servant entered with a cart of pastries and tea, and right behind him Mrs. Tirth wearing her crisp housemaid uniform. “My lord, I introduce you to Miss Agatha Trulin, mother of Gertie Trulin.”

A lithe fae with wild curly blond hair and a sweeping gold cloak entered and curtsied deeply. “Your Highness, it is truly a pleasure.”

She sat down at the table and was served tea and given a cookie.

Another mother entered, who was also introduced by Mrs. Tirth, and I started to take notes.

Agatha Trulin—Gertie’s mother. Curly blond hair.

Billie Gillhard—Bronwyn’s mother. Long nails.

When all dozen women had been seated at the table, it was officially full. The king introduced me as his new personal assistant and all the women smiled kindly at me. When the waiter got to me, he served me two cups of tea and two cookies. It took me a moment to understand why.

Oh. Food taster.

As the king made boring small talk with the highborn mothers of Elf City, I sipped his tea and waited. Heart palpations? Headache? Stomach cramps? Nope, nope, nope. I watched my pocket watch as Raife cast worried glances my way.

How much anxiety it must cause him at every meal, wondering if the queen would come back to finish him off.

After a full two minutes, I felt totally fine and ever so casually slid the tea over to the king. He stared at it warily while I nibbled on the cookie.

It’s okay, I wanted to tell him. It’s safe. But you could see the concern in his face as he pulled the cup to his lips and then looked at me. I gave him an encouraging smile and he drank. After I’d tasted the cookie, which was delicious because almond was my favorite, I gave that to him as well and then focused on the women.

“My daughter, Gertie, loves to read and garden. She’s also a master archer,” Agatha stated.

I put a star next to Gertie’s name. Sounded like a good fit off the bat. King Raife met my eyes in agreement.

“Would you say your daughter Gertie is a strong and silent type, or a social butterfly?” I asked her, my quill poised over the parchment.

She swallowed hard, looking down at my parchment, which I kept at an angle so that only the king and I could see it.

“She can be both,” Agatha said diplomatically.

I nodded, giving her a smile. It must be hard to be called into a room with a bunch of other mothers—all of them trying to get their daughter to be the next queen.

“My Bronwyn is quite shy, I must say. She also likes reading and will play chess for hours until you pull her away. She won the ladies’ classic tournament last year.”

“I heard that,” the king said, “Congratulations, you must be very proud.”

I placed a star next to her name as well. The meeting went on with each mother giving a little snippet of information about their daughter and respectfully allowing the others to speak. I was surprised at the civility here. No speaking over the other or trying to tear another’s daughter down. I was also surprised the daughters themselves were not here. It must be the custom.

“Did any of you bring a picture?” I asked, and then immediately cursed myself. Box cameras were a human Nightfall thing. “Or a portrait?”

The women nodded their heads excitedly and one by one pulled small eight-to-ten-inch hand painted portraits from their satchels. The artisans of Elf City were the best in the realm. Their paintings were amazing, and that was shown true here.

I glanced at them at the same time the king did. “They are all so beautiful,” the king said diplomatically.

I wished I could have a moment to confer with the king on which ones he thought the prettiest, but instead I made hearts next to the names of the ones I thought the most stunning. He looked at my parchment and nodded to me.

I was just about to ask another question when the door burst open, startling us all. A woman who wore the white robes of a healer looked to the king. She was speckled with bits of blood. “My lord, I’m sorry, it’s just that one of your patients—”

He stood so fast the chair knocked over and then he fled from the room, following her without another word.

“Thank you all for coming. The king’s patients are so important to him. We will be in touch about dinner dates for some of your daughters,” I said to everyone and stood, running after the king.

I had to bolt down the hallway to catch up with them.

“Who is it?” King Raife was asking the healer as we jogged at full speed down the hall.

“Corleenaa,” she said, and the king’s face fell.

He cursed. “The bleeding is back? It makes no sense!”

I riffled through the notes for our infirmary rounds, and stopped on the name Corleenaa Yahmeen.

Corleenaa Yahmeen.

Age: six.

Bleeding disorder of unknown cause.

We ran across the palace lawn at breakneck speed over to a giant brick building I assumed was the infirmary. My sandal strap cut into my heel but I ignored it. If a six-year-old was bleeding out, it wasn’t worth caring about foot pain. We passed the infirmary sign and I barely noticed the name.

Raife Lightstone Healing Infirmary.

We burst into a busy intake room and then down a hallway, to a set of double doors marked Operating Theatre. I knew that this would be nothing like our human operating rooms, but an elvin one full of wands and crystals and light.

“Stay here or go to the viewing room,” Raife said to me, and my heart fell.

“Yes, lord,” I obeyed. I’d wanted to be a doctor after my schooling; I wasn’t squeamish with blood, or the sick, but he didn’t know that. I veered to the right and then followed the sign that read Operating Theatre Viewing Room.

I pushed open the double doors and was immediately confronted with a weeping woman. She was in her early thirties, and a man about the same age clung to her, holding her tightly as he stared stony-faced at a wall of glass.

I stiffened, guilt worming through me at intruding on their moment just to watch the king operate. They must be the girl’s parents.

The woman looked up at me, her chin shaking. “Who are you?”

I bowed slightly. “King Lightstone’s new personal assistant. I thought the room was empty. I’ll leave you—”

Before I could finish, she left her husband’s side and grasped my hand, pulling me into the room.

“Maker bless the king! He’s here?” She dragged me over to the far wall, which was made purely of glass. Now that I was closer to her, I was overwhelmed with a strong smell of sweet blackberry syrup. Blackberry jam was my favorite candy as a child and it instantly made me nostalgic.

As we stepped closer to the glass I noticed that I was given a perfect view of the operating room. My gaze flicked around the space, taking it all in.

Unlike the human operating rooms we had at Nightfall, there were no gadgets or blades or machines trying to keep someone alive. There was just a nurse, an elvin wand, and a lot of blood.

The little girl Corleena was a small elf, and her pale face was rolled to the side, her eyes closed as if she were sleeping, but blood dribbled out of the corners of her lips and onto the floor. I’d never seen an elvish child; her little ears were pointy and adorable and her face was like a porcelain doll. Her white hair was long like her mother’s, and in two braids that hung down the sides of the table. Her body suddenly jerked, her mouth opened and she vomited more blood.

Her mother fell to her knees beside me, letting go of my hand, and that’s when King Raife entered the room. He wore a white physicians coat and barked an order at the nurse with the healing wand.

At the sight of the king, the mother pressed her hands and face to the window and stared down at her dying little girl. I was rooted to the spot, unsure how the king could do anything in this dire of a situation. That blood needed cauterization or stitches or something, and yet I saw no tools to do so. Although I was half elvish, I knew nothing of elvin healing other than it was magical. I’d read a few books on it but never seen it in person. My father was an artisan trader selling healing-infused pendants and other things across the realm. His journal didn’t cover healings of this nature. If I had known how to heal, I’d have healed my aunt years ago.

I waited for the king to blast her with light or something, but he simply knelt beside her and placed his hands lightly on her tummy. Taking a deep breath in, purple light emanated softly from his palm and he coughed, a small spray of blood dotting his chin.

I gasped, looking around in alarm, but the mother stood, giving me a hopeful gaze. The king winced, doubling over and releasing the girl as he grabbed his midsection.

I froze, watching him wide-eyed as I processed what I was seeing. No one else seemed alarmed by the king’s grave appearance, including the nurse, so I watched on. Suddenly the little girl’s eyes blinked open and she looked around the room.

“Mommy?” she said, all paleness gone from her. A healthy pinkness shone on her cheeks as she looked around frantically for her mother. The mother bolted from the viewing room with the father, leaving me to my thoughts.

Did the king… did he take on her illness and then heal it within himself? If so, that was very dangerous.

The little girl reached for Raife, grasping his fingers as he stood. He froze, staring down at her with a compassion that melted my heart. He truly loved his patients. Watching him with her caused something to blossom inside my chest. It was a weird feeling, nothing I’d ever felt before. It confused me so I pushed it aside.

King Raife spoke to the parents briefly and then left the room. I scurried out of the viewing hall to meet him back at the entrance to the operating theatre.

The second he stepped out, I rushed up to him. “Are you okay?” My gaze fell to the splatter of blood on his chin. He seemed to notice and reached up and wiped it, his hand shaking slightly.

“It keeps happening. It doesn’t make sense. I don’t feel a chronic bleeding issue. It is acute,” he mumbled, ignoring me.

Corleena, he was still stuck on her case even as I was asking about him.

“You healed her. It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” I told him.

He looked up at me with worry in his gaze. “It’s the fourth time I’ve healed her of internal bleeding. If I don’t replace the cause I might not get here fast enough next time. They live on a large blackberry farm an hour’s horse ride away.”

A heaviness fell over our conversation. It explained why the mother smelled of blackberry syrup. She probably grew and made it from scratch. I lowered my voice, leaning into the king. “You don’t think the parents would… have done this to her on purpose?” I felt awful for even suggesting it, but four times was a lot.

He sighed, and at this closeness I felt the unease and worry roll through him and into me, so I stepped back a foot.

“I considered it of course, but they are always so worried for her. The mother seems to fall apart in tears and then the father is in genuine shock. He carried her limp on horseback the entire way. I just don’t see that.”

I nodded; it was unfair of me to suggest it. The mother seemed more than genuine, and in shock was exactly how I would describe the father.

Oh how I hated something unsolved. My mind would chew on this for hours.

“Could I get a sample of her blood? Before she goes?” I asked.

His brow furrowed. “We don’t have any of your fancy human gadgets here, and there is nothing in her blood I would not smell.” He looked offended.

I relented, nodding. I was thinking some type of poison or a clotting issue, but she was six, and that would have been present at birth.

“You have to let it go.” He sighed and reached up to rub the bridge of his nose. “I’ve been over this case hundreds of times in my head. There is nothing that stands out other than she smells of blackberries every time I see her, which isn’t unusual considering they own a blackberry farm. I have other patients to see. Come on.”

He turned and fled down the hall, leaving me to my thoughts.

After doing a round of his patients and checking on them or healing their wounds, we made our way back to the castle to the Bow Men meeting.

The Bow Men were the elf king’s loyal elite army known for being soundless when walking, and deadly with an arrow. The meeting was a brief rundown of the city’s defenses, and my introduction to the top four commanders on his force.

Cahal, Ares, Tanin, and Arok.

We broke for lunch, in which I tasted all the food first, and then we were thrust into another three meetings. A tax meeting, land survey meeting, and the mining council. These meetings were the most boring things I’d ever had to sit through. I almost wished I was washing dishes. In the final minutes of the mining council meeting, I looked to the king to catch him nodding off, so I used my ankle to kick him awake slightly.

“Okay, I think I have a handle on the situation. Thank you,” King Raife said to the mining council and stood.

Oh thank the Maker!

I stood as well. “We will be in touch about the labor shortage issue,” I told them kindly.

They bowed their heads deeply as the king and I left.

My stomach rumbled as we walked down the hallway to the king’s private dining hall, causing me to blush nervously.

“I’m famished,” I exclaimed.

His lip curled in amusement. “What did you think of your first day? Honestly.”

Honestly—as if I could lie to him. I thought it was kind of cute he wanted to know what I thought of the job. “I like it. It keeps my brain active. The tax and land stuff are boring, but what job doesn’t have some snooze times? The food tasting thing still freaks me out. I keep waiting to feel ill—oh, and I can’t stop thinking about Corleena and how you healed her.” I said it all in a rush, completely forgetting I was talking to my boss, the king of the entire elf race. He was so… personable, and humble, and easy to be around.

He made a noise in his throat I couldn’t quite decipher. A hmm or hrphm.

“Oh, and your council is really not fun,” I added.

That caused him to belly laugh, and a warmth trickled down my body.

I made the king laugh. It was a sound I liked hearing from him.

“I don’t think fun is in their job description,” he added. “And you have to let Corleena go or it will keep you up all night. Step one of healing is to keep yourself healthy. You cannot pour from an empty vessel.”

I frowned. “I know, but what if—?”

“And you’re not a healer,” he added sharply.

I bit my tongue as we entered the dining room. Two plates of food sat there with domed steel lids.

“Maybe it’s hard for me to let go because I’m an empath?” I asked coolly.

He stiffened. I wanted to know what that meant, what our whole interaction at breakfast was all about.

“After you taste my food, you may eat yours in the kitchens,” he said suddenly. “I’d like to be alone tonight. I have much to think about after the day full of meetings.”

I pushed down the sense of rejection and nodded. It was like I’d been slapped. The king had some mood swings, that was for sure.

“Yes, lord.” Lifting the lid on his plate, my mouth watered as I stared at the meat and potato stew with a buttered roll, and green beans topped with slivered almonds. There was even a slice of sweet potato pie. Picking up one of the three forks, I took a hunk of meat and potato from the stew and popped it into my mouth. A moan of pleasure escaped me.

“Your chef is seriously amazing. You should give him a raise,” I said.

He watched me intensely. “Should I?”

I popped an almond covered green bean in my mouth and moaned, then I set the fork down and grabbed a clean one, cutting into the sweet potato pie.

“Maker have mercy on my soul,” I cooed as the sweet maple syrup splashed across my tongue.

The king’s eyes bored into me so deeply then that I straightened a little, wondering if I was doing something wrong.

“And the roll?” I asked, clearing my throat.

He swallowed hard and nodded. I tore off a small piece and chewed it, making no noise for fear I was breaking some royal protocol. I had manners, but probably not noble manners.

“I would like to enjoy food as much as you do,” he said wistfully, and my stomach dropped.

He feared every meal would be poisoned? What an awful way to live. “My lord, do you really think Queen Zaphira would try that again?” It was a serious question. I knew the queen actively wanted to wipe out all of the magical races, especially their kings, but to poison again? It seemed too obvious.

His eyes narrowed, and he stared at me like I was a complete simpleton. “Why do you think I am in need of a new taster?”

I froze, the hairs on my arms raising. “The other one is getting married?” I hedged.

He looked at me point blank. “That was my assistant. My former taster is dead. Once a year since I was crowned, Queen Zaphira tries to kill me. I never know when it’s coming so it always keeps me in an active state of worry, which I’m sure is her intention. Always a flavorless, scentless poison that I cannot detect until my taster is dead.”

Pure terror gripped me and I swayed on my feet, swallowing hard. “Are… are you not able to heal them?”

He sighed. “Poison is a tricky thing to heal. I have to take enough into myself to filter and allow the other person’s healing to kick in, but not so much that I myself become ill. Impossible to do blindly with a scentless, tasteless poison. Whatever she is using isn’t something we grow here.”

And just like that I wanted to be assigned to dishwashing.

“Sir, I recommend we replace a new taste tester immediately.”

He chuckled, and then just looked sad. “As you can imagine, not many want the job, but I’ll keep looking.”

Zaphira was still actively trying to poison him after keeping him alive all those years ago? That was some seriously psychotic behavior.

“Feeling okay? I am quite hungry,” he asked. I checked my pocket watch. It had been two minutes and I felt fine other than the sense of impending doom pressing in on me.

“I’m fine. Enjoy your meal, sir.” I curtsied, taking my plate and leaving him be.

As I reached the door he called out to me: “Kailani? When we’re alone you can call me Raife.”

I smiled, trying to see that as a good thing, but all I could think about was that I’d taken a five-year job post that I might not even live a year to see. First thing tomorrow I was interviewing for new tasters.

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