Vael turned back to her, his face revealing nothing. "We're not staying here."
Mira frowned. "And where exactly are we going?"
"Somewhere private," he said simply. "Somewhere the walls don't have ears."
Mira's fingers curled slightly at her sides. That meant this conversation was important. And if Vael was taking precautions, it was dangerous.
The clerk returned moments later, bowing slightly before stepping aside as the heavy door opened once more, revealing the dark outline of a waiting carriage. The horses stamped restlessly, the air thick with their heat and the dampness of the night air.
Vael held out a hand—not quite offering, but expectant. She sighed taking it lightly The carriage ride was silent at first. The interior was warm, lined with deep blue velvet, the cushioned seats soft beneath Mira's back. She sat rigidly, her hands folded in her lap, watching Vael from the corner of her eye as he stared out the window. The city lights flickered past, distant voices and the occasional rattle of carts blending into the rhythmic clop of hooves against cobblestone.
"You look tense," Vael finally said, not turning from the window. "Am I supposed to relax in the presence of the empire's most ruthless knight?"
Vael turned his head slightly, his profile sharp in the dim light. "You're not in chains. That should tell you something."
She turned fully to face him, "Did you forget our last encounter?" His face remained impassive, but his fingers flexed slightly against the window ledge. "I remember every detail of it." A pause. "You are always... difficult to forget."
Mira's rolled her eyes. "That sounds almost like a compliment."
Vael's lips quirked—not quite a smile, but something close. "It was an observation. You had a habit of making it complicated."
"Still do," she said, tilting her chin up slightly. "And I don't intend to stop now."
Vael hummed, a quiet, considering sound. "Good. I'd be disappointed if you had."
The carriage jolted fiercely, she steadied herself he glanced out the window pulling out a handkerchief, "I'll have to blindfold you."
Mira stiffened. "Blindfold me?" Her voice was sharp with suspicion. "What the hell for, Vael?"
He dabbed at the edge of his face, not looking at her. "Because I said so." The casual arrogance in his tone was almost infuriating. Almost.
"And because if you knew where we were going, you'd do something reckless." Mira's hands curled into fists in her lap. "Like what?"
"Like trying to run." He folded the handkerchief with precise movements before tucking it away. "Or worse, like trying to attack me before we even get to the point of this conversation."
Mira glared at the man, "Maybe you should just admit you're a kinky freak that-"
Vael's hand moved faster than she expected, catching her wrist before she could finish the sentence. His grip was firm, not painful, but unyielding.
"Careful," he murmured, his voice dangerously low. "You're walking a fine line, Mira." His thumb pressed lightly against her pulse point, feeling the rapid beat beneath her skin. "And I don't appreciate being insulted in my own carriage."
Mira tried to pull away, but his grip held firm. She could see the tightness in his jaw, the way his eyes had darkened, the controlled fury that simmered beneath his calm exterior. He wasn't going to let go until he was ready. She clamped her eyes shut, "Get on with it then!"
Vael held her wrist a moment longer, his grip loosening just enough to make the movement feel like a choice, not a struggle. His fingers moved with practiced ease as he drew the handkerchief back out, folding it into a makeshift blindfold. She kept her eyes shut as he leaned in, his breath warm against her skin as he tied it loosely over her face. The fabric wasn't rough, but the restriction was undeniable.
"You can open your eyes now," he said quietly. She did, blinking at the dimness, the edges of her vision swallowed by blue fabric. The carriage swayed gently beneath her as it turned onto what sounded like a narrower road. She remained silent the rest of the ride, if anything the blindfold helped her forget he was there.
Minutes later, the carriage stopped. A door opened and the cool night air rushed in, carrying damp earth and the sharp tang of pine. Vael's hand settled lightly on her back as he guided her down the steps. She felt the uneven texture of stone beneath her boots, heard the distant rustling of leaves in the wind.
"Keep walking," Vael murmured near her ear. His hand remained steady at the small of her back as he led her forward.
The ground beneath her feet changed from stone to gravel, then to a softer path that gave slightly under her weight. When he finally stopped her, she stood still, breathing in the crisp air.
"Don't speak unless spoken too."
She frowned biting back a sarcastic remark he led her once again, this time the sound of her feet began to click like she were stepping on tile. She began to panic whoever this noble was was no stranger to wealth.
"Where are we?" she asked quietly, unable to contain her curiosity.
The blindfold was pulled free with a single tug, and she blinked in the sudden light. The room was vast, walls of polished stone lit by a dozen floating lanterns that cast everything in a warm, flickering glow.
Her eyes widened at the long table at the center this wasn't just any ordinary noble that she could tell. "Sit." Vael pulled out her chair.
She hesitated for a moment, then complied, lowering herself onto the cushioned seat. The wood was dark, the carving intricate—vines twisting around the legs, leaves curling along the arms. The table itself was an expanse of polished black stone, veins of silver running through it like veins of frost. The chairs were upholstered in deep blue fabric, the kind that cost more than she made in a month.
Across from her, Vael took his seat with the same ease of a man who had sat in places like this his entire life. He looked at home in the opulence, while she felt painfully aware of her own presence. She glanced around the room when Vael spoke once more "You're staring," he observed dryly.
His tone had lost some of its edge now that they were alone. "It's impressive," she admitted, running a finger along the grain of the table. "I suppose you expect me to be dazzled by your empire's wealth."
Vael leaned back in his chair, watching her with a small, knowing smile. "No. I expect you to recognize it for what it is—power." He steepled his fingers, elbows resting on the arms of his chair. "And I expect you to understand that we have more of it than most."
Mira's eyes flickered up to his, studying him in the warm glow of the lanterns. There was no pretense in his words, no arrogance—just simple, undeniable fact. And that made her uneasy. "And you think I need reminding of that?" she asked, voice quiet but sharp.
Vael leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking with hers. "I think you need reminding of what you're dealing with. You've been... comfortable, out there on your own. Hunting bandits, taking what you need, answering to no one." He paused, allowing the words to settle. "But this isn't that." He gestured vaguely, taking in the room, the empire's wealth surrounding them. "This is something else entirely."
She paused unable to think of a retort when she heard it the soft clicking of the door opening, her head snapped over noting what appeared to be a maid, "
Her Majesty will be with you in just a moment, we will begin serving dinner then" The maid bowed and disappeared, leaving the two of them alone again.
Mira's fingers curled into the fabric of her sleeves. "Her Majesty?" she echoed, voice faint. "You didn't think to mention that?"
Vael's lips twitched—not quite a smile, but something close. "Would it have changed your answer?" Mira's eyes narrowed. "No," she admitted. "But I'd have known what I was walking into."
She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "Christ, Vael. The Empress of the fucking Empire." She ran a hand through her hair, frustration evident. "That's... beyond what I expected."
Vael remained silent, watching her carefully. "You're nervous." Mira's head pounded as she shot him a glare, "No fucking shit." She sneered he smiled, "I suggest you fix that crass mouth before she arrives."
Mira's jaw clenched so tightly she feared her teeth might crack. The thought of meeting the Empress of the Empire was overwhelming—her presence loomed in the air like a storm cloud, and she hadn't even arrived yet. The room felt suffocating, the ornate decorations suddenly mocking, as if the walls themselves were watching her fail before she even began.
Vael leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "You should know that she's not here to harm you." His words were measured, precise. "If that were her intention, you wouldn't be sitting at this table. You would be dead." The bluntness of it made her stomach twist. She nodded once, sharply. "Right."
Moments later the door opened and the Empress swept in like a force of nature. She wore a gown of deep crimson, the fabric clinging to her curves before falling in heavy folds to the floor. A golden sash crossed her chest, embroidered with the sigil of the Empire—a raven with wings spread wide. Her hair was dark as midnight, falling in loose waves over one shoulder. Her face was striking—high cheekbones, sharp features, and dark eyes that held both intelligence and authority.
She moved with effortless grace, her heels clicking against the polished stone as she approached the table. Vael stood immediately, bowing his head with perfect deference. "Your Majesty."
Mira stood as well, but less smoothly. The Empress's gaze fell on her, sharp and assessing. "You're Mira," she stated, her voice carrying the unmistakable authority of absolute power. "The treasure hunter who's been making quite the reputation for herself." She gestured to the chair beside Vael. "Sit. We have much to discuss."
Mira sat, her heart hammering against her ribs as the Empress took her seat across from her. The woman's presence was overwhelming—like standing before a storm, the energy crackling in the air around her.
"I hear you've been... busy," the Empress continued, her fingers tracing the edge of the table absently. Mira smiled, "Can you blame me a woman has to earn an honest....living."
The Empress's lips curled into something almost amused. "Honest? That's an interesting choice of words." Her fingers tapped once against the table before she leaned forward, her dark eyes fixed intently on Mira.
"You've stolen from noble houses, smuggled artifacts, killed more than a few people. And yet, you call it an honest living."
Mira shifted in her seat, suddenly aware of how much she had to lose in this conversation. "I don't take from those who can't afford it," she said, voice steady despite the tension coiling through her. "And I only kill when necessary."
The Empress tilted her head slightly. "How noble. Tell me, what do you consider necessary?"
Mira glanced at Vael he seemed utterly amused with this interaction his blue eyes glowed like a predator's. The Empress's gaze was relentless. The firelight caught the gold embroidery of her sash, throwing shifting patterns across the table's dark surface.
"Self-preservation," Mira said carefully. "Defending those who can't defend themselves. Sometimes even justice." She felt Vael's presence beside her like a silent spectator, his amusement curling at the corners of his smile. The Empress leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingers.
"Justice?" she repeated, the word rolling off her tongue like a challenge. "That's an interesting claim for someone who has broken nearly every law I enforce."
Mira met her gaze, heart hammering but face steady. "You can't legislate morality, Your Majesty."
"A thief with morality that's a new one wouldn't you say V?" Vael's laughter was soft, but it echoed in the vast chamber.
"That's what makes her interesting, Your Majesty. Most criminals don't bother with justifications." He glanced at Mira with something resembling respect, though his expression remained unreadable.
V? They must be close.
The Empress watched the exchange with a keen gaze, her fingers stilling on the table. "Interesting, indeed."
She turned back to Mira, her dark eyes sharp with scrutiny. "But justifications don't interest me. Results do." She reached for a goblet at her side, the gold gleaming in the lantern light. "Tell me, Mira—what exactly do you intend to do with all the wealth you've accumulated?"
Mira paused, "Do I need to have a reason? It's what I do I'm good at it and....it's the only thing I can do to survive."
The Empress sipped from her goblet, the golden liquid catching the firelight as she swirled it thoughtfully. "Survival," she echoed, her voice carrying the gravity of someone who had survived far greater challenges than simple poverty. "A simple word for such complex motivations."
She set the goblet down with a soft click against the stone table. "But tell me, Mira—what happens when you're no longer satisfied with mere survival? When the thrill of theft and the rush of danger become insufficient?"
Mira's fingers tightened around the armrests of her chair, the rich fabric creasing under her grip. "I haven't thought about that," she admitted, the words coming out quieter than intended.
The queen giggled, "You're quite a fascinating creature. Mira Tell me why did you leave the Order?"
Mira nearly spit out her drink. She nearly choked on her drink, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "That's... not something I discuss."
The Empress's smile widened, her gaze never leaving Mira's face. "Then you should have known better than to sit at my table."
She tapped a single fingernail against the tabletop. "Especially when you already know I have all the answers. I simply want to hear yours."
Mira's pulse pounded in her throat. She glanced at Vael for a fraction of a second, but his face gave nothing away.
"The Order and I... had different ideas about how things should be done." The Empress hummed in consideration. "Different ideas."
"I'm sure the Witches of Geiselle would be more than happy if I reported one of their kind had turned up in my Empire-"
"Please don't."
The Empress leaned forward, resting her chin on one hand. "That's more honesty than I expected. Tell me, was it the rules you disagreed with? Or was it something more personal?"
Mira's fingers curled into the fabric of her dress. She could feel Vael's gaze on her, heavy and unreadable as ever. The Empress knew. Of course she did. The Order was not the type to simply let a witch go unnoticed, especially not one who had left under... strained circumstances. Mira swallowed hard. "It was both," she said finally.
"The rules are cruel. The system is broken. But what really broke me was watching people who were supposed to protect others instead..."
The Empress rose an eyebrow, "Mira, dear if I don't report you to the tower it could very well lead to an inevitable war. You know first hand how they like to lock up your kind."
Mira's breath caught. She hadn't expected the Empress to say it so plainly—to lay out the potential consequences like pieces on a chessboard. "Yes," she said, voice tight. "I do know what they do."
The Empress's gaze never wavered. "Then you also know what happens when witches disappear."
A cold hand squeezed Mira's chest. Of course she did. The Order had been hunting rouge witches for centuries, burning them, imprisoning them, twisting them into tools. If they knew she was here—if they knew she was alive—then they would come for her. If you stayed within the tower the order would keep you safe but if you left.
"You're not turning me in," she said, not a question but a demand.
The queen's cold smile grew wider, "Of course not but, I also know how much you care about Kai was it?"
Mira's body stiffened. The Empress's voice had shifted, softer but no less sharp. She knew about Kai. The very name struck Mira with a force that nearly knocked the air from her lungs. The Empress's fingers tapped once against the table's surface, the sound echoing in the sudden silence.
"That's why you're here, isn't it? For him." She leaned forward slightly, her dark eyes burning with something unreadable. "You know he's not safe, don't you?" Mira's nails dug into her palms. She knew. Of course she knew.
"Just tell me what you want."
The Empress's smile didn't waver, but something colder passed through her dark eyes. "So direct. I like that."
She rose from her chair, moving with the effortless grace of a predator circling prey. The hem of her crimson gown brushed against the stone floor, the golden embroidery catching the firelight like embers.
"What I want," she said, voice quiet and smooth as silk over steel, "is simple." She stopped beside Mira's chair, looming just enough to make her presence undeniable. "I want you to do what you do best."
Mira's heart hammered against her ribs, but she kept her head high, meeting the Empress's gaze. "Which is?"
"Steal a treasure for me." Mira stilled, "That's it?" The Empress tilted her head, studying you with dark eyes that held something unreadable. "Is that so hard to believe?"
She walked around the table, her heels clicking softly against the polished stone. The firelight caught the edges of her gown as she moved, turning the fabric into liquid crimson. "You're the best thief in the Empire, are you not?" She reached for a small box on the table, lifting it with graceful fingers. When she opened it, a single ring rested inside—simple but exquisite, a band of silver threaded with vines, a single black stone set in the center like a drop of night.
"This belonged to someone very important to me, once upon a time."
"But, it's missing it's counterpart." Mira's breath caught as she gazed at the ring. The silver was tarnished with age, the vines intricately carved, curling around the dark stone like fingers clutching at something precious.
"Where is it?" she asked, the words emerging quietly.
The Empress closed the box with a soft click and returned it to the table. "In Elfdom".
Mira's stomach dropped as if she'd stepped off a cliff. Elfdom. The very word conjured images of mist-laden forests, impossible architecture floating in the clouds, and creatures so ancient their minds worked in ways human ones couldn't fathom.
"That's... not exactly down the street." The Empress's smile was razor-thin.
"No. It isn't." She turned away, moving to the window where the night outside was a curtain of dark fabric. The city spread below like a constellation of lights, but Mira saw only the vast, impenetrable wall of trees beyond the palace grounds.
"The ring I seek was lost there generations ago." Mira scoffed, "You expect me to just walk right in? They aren't exactly found of humans."
The Empress did not turn around, but her reflection in the window caught the firelight. Her silhouette was a dark shape against the distant stars, the edges of her gown pooling like spilled ink around her feet.
"No," she said, almost thoughtfully. "They aren't." She turned back to face you, her expression unreadable.
"But, lucky for us they are opening their court." Mira paused, "What? After all this time?"
The Empress's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Not for us," she clarified, her dark eyes glinting in the firelight. "For someone far more dangerous than either of us."
She moved back to the table, her crimson gown swirling around her like liquid shadow. The floating lanterns cast her face in alternating pools of light and darkness, making her expression difficult to read.
"The Elves are hosting a summit. All the major powers of the continent will be in attendance—including certain... undesirable parties who have been causing problems in my lands."
Mira's fingers tightened around the chair arms. "You want me to steal the ring during a summit attended by every major power in the continent?"
The Empress tilted her head slightly, her dark eyes glinting. "Not just any summit. A summit in which the Elves have agreed to temporarily lift their territorial protections." She paused, letting the words settle. "Which means you won't be instantly incinerated the moment you step foot inside."
A cold weight settled in Mira's stomach. "My Empire the great Empire of Huedal has been invited to attend. So you will go on my behalf."
Mira's heart pounded against her ribs as the Empress's words sank in. The risks were obvious—Elfdom was a place of legend and terror, a place where even the strongest warriors went missing without a trace. And now she was being asked to steal something from it, during an event where every major power in the continent would be watching.
"You're sending me to walk into the mouth of a dragon," she said, voice tight with incredulity. The Empress leaned against the table, her fingers idly tracing the edge of the box containing the ring. "And yet, the dragon is the least of your concerns."
She met Mira's gaze, her dark eyes holding a cold certainty. "You have everything to lose here, and I will make sure of it. Unless you do as I say."
Mira swallowed, she was right with one snap of her finger she could Kai and report her back to the tower.
She snapped her eyes shut, "What piece is missing?" The Empress paused, her fingers still resting on the box. The firelight cast flickering shadows across her face, deepening the hollows beneath her cheekbones.
"The ring's twin," she said finally. "A silver band with vines just like this one, but with a sapphire instead of the onyx." She lifted the box again, turning it slightly so the firelight caught the dark stone within. "They were made as one, centuries ago. A gift from the Elves to my ancestors."
Mira studied the ring, the intricate vines curling around the stone like grasping hands. "And they were separated... how?"
The Empress's face tightened almost imperceptibly. "By betrayal," she said, her words quieter now but no less sharp. "By war."
She set the box down with deliberate care. "The Elf who gave them to us—who swore an oath of protection—broke it. He turned his back on our alliance when it was most needed." The Empress's fingers curled slightly, as if grasping something unseen. "He took the ring and disappeared into the deep woods."
Mira frowned. "And you want me to find this Elf?" The Empress's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile.
"No. He's long dead. But his kin..." She let the words hang, unspoken but understood. Mira felt a shiver run down her back.
"His kin have the ring," she said, completing the Empress's thought. The Empress nodded once, slowly. "They've kept it all these years. A symbol of their pride. A trophy of their victory."
She leaned forward, resting her hands on the table, her dark eyes locked onto Mira's. "Bring it back to me, and I will ensure that you and your... attachments remain safe." The Empress's words were smooth as silk, but beneath them lay the cold steel of a threat.
The Empress's words were smooth as silk, but beneath them lay the cold steel of a threat. Mira nodded, "Easy enough. When do I leave."
The Empress's smile widened, though her eyes remained cold as the grave. "Tomorrow at dawn." She stood, her crimson gown flowing like blood in water. "You will depart with Vael, as my official emissary. He will ensure you have everything you need." She turned toward the door, where a pair of guards waited silently. "Do not disappoint me, Mira." The words lingered like a shadow after the sun sets.
Vael leaned back in his chair, watching the Empress leave with the same lazy amusement he'd worn throughout the entire conversation. When the door closed behind her, he exhaled a slow breath and turned to her.
"Well," he said, voice edged with something unreadable. "Was that everything you expected from your first official meeting with the Empress?"
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. His blue eyes were still alight with something like curiosity, but there was something sharper beneath it now—something more calculating. "Or perhaps more than you bargained for?"
The firelight flickered across his face, throwing his sharp features into alternating shadows and light. Mira let out a slow breath, forcing herself to relax the rigid muscles in her shoulders. "If I could I would beat the shit of you." She snapped.
Vael's lips quirked upward, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "Oh, I'd like to see you try," he murmured, rolling his glass between his fingers. He took a slow sip, watching you over the rim. "Though I imagine that would be a sight more entertaining than watching you squirm under the Empress's gaze."
Mira scoffed, though there was no real bite to it. Her fingers drummed against the armrests of her chair, the rhythm matching the anxious pulse in her throat. "Entertaining for who?"
"For me, of course." He set the glass down with deliberate care. "It's rare to see someone hold their own with her like that."
Mira glared at Vael, "V? Is that what she calls you? I didn't realize you were so familiar with each other."
Vael chuckled, the sound rich and smooth as dark honey. "We have an understanding," he said, stretching his legs out beneath the table. "She keeps me alive, and I do... certain things for her." His eyes flickered to the door where the Empress had disappeared. "I don't have to tell you that our dear Queen collects interesting people like she collects art."
Mira crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair. The firelight cast shifting shadows across the table, making the golden embroidery of the Empress's abandoned goblet wink like captured stars. "And what exactly does she collect you for?"
She kept her tone light, but her words carried an edge. Vael's lips curved into a slow smile, but there was something unreadable in his eyes—something dark and knowing. "Why," he mused, tapping a finger against the table's surface, "I think that depends on who you ask."
He leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table. His fingers curled idly around the stem of his glass, his knuckles catching the firelight. "Some would say I'm her most trusted advisor. Others... would say I'm her most dangerous weapon." He took a slow sip, watching her over the rim. "And then there are those who would tell you I'm simply her pet."
Mira raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Which is it?" Vael hummed, setting his glass down with careful precision.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" The words were light, but something sharper underlay them—something almost... playful, in the way a cat might toy with a mouse before striking.
Mira leaned forward, mirroring his posture. The space between them felt charged, heavy with something unspoken. "I would," she said, holding his gaze.
"Because if I'm walking into that hell with you tomorrow, I'd like to know what kind of beast I'm chained to."
Vael chuckled, the sound rich and amused. "Oh, Mira," he murmured, shaking his head slightly.
"You misunderstand. I'm not the beast. I'm the leash." His words were smooth, almost casual, but his eyes—those sharp blue eyes—held something colder now. A warning.
Mira's fingers tightened slightly against the table's edge. "Then who exactly are you leashed to?" Vael's smile widened, though his eyes remained cool. "To her," he said simply. "And by extension, to you."
Mira felt a chill run through her, though she kept her face neutral. "That's not comforting."
Vael shrugged, the movement lazy and practiced. "It wasn't meant to be." He drained the last of his wine, swirling the glass idly as he studied you. The firelight caught the angles of his face, throwing his sharp features into stark relief.
"I'll take of you Mira," he observed, voice smooth as velvet. "I wouldn't want to let my Empress down."
Mira exhaled through her nose. "Then I guess we'd better get some sleep," she said, pushing back from the table. "Dawn comes early, and I'd rather not face the Elves half-dead from exhaustion."
Vael rose with fluid grace, his movements sharp and controlled. "Indeed." He turned toward the door, pausing to glance back at you. His blue eyes glinted in the firelight, unreadable. "Sweet dreams, little thief. Try not to dream of pointed ears and sharp teeth."
Mira rolled her eyes. "Right back at you, leash-boy." She started toward the door, her boots clicking softly against the stone floor.
******
Dawn approached rapidly, Mira stood at the docks observing the works she caught Vael barking orders, the seaman look visibly afraid. She frowned perhaps he was an absolute menace to everyone. She watched silently as crates of clothes were packed and hauled on the Empire's ship. Dawn's pale light spread across the docks as the last of the supplies were loaded onto the imperial ship. The air carried the sharp bite of salt and the distant musk of old rope. Vael stood at the ship's gangplank, his leather coat whipping in the wind as he barked orders to the crew. His words were sharp and his eyes held the cold certainty of someone who had made people disappear before.
"The compass needs to be secured in the captain's quarters," he called to a young sailor who was scrambling to obey. "And if you drop the medical supplies one more time, I'll have you cleaning the latrines with your toothbrush."
Mira rolled her eyes, he caught her expression "Problem?" he asked, turning toward her with a smirk. His blue eyes glinted in the growing light, sharp as the knives strapped to his belt. The wind tugged at his dark hair, tossing it across his forehead in an almost artful disarray.
"I was just wondering if you're always this much of an asshole or if you save it for special occasions," Mira replied, stepping onto the gangplank. The wood creaked softly beneath her boots.
Vael chuckled, the sound dark and rich. "Oh, this is just my baseline level of dickishness. Wait until we're actually at sea." He gestured toward the cabin door. "Shall we?"
She crossed the threshold the cabin's quarters were warmer, "Tell me about Elfdom."
She sat down waiting for his explanation. Vael shut the door behind him, the heavy wood clicking into place with a finality that felt almost ominous. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes bright with something between amusement and dark intent.
"Elfdom," he echoed, rolling the word over his tongue like he was savoring it.
"What do you want to know? The part where the trees whisper when the wind blows? Or the part where the creatures that live in those trees have teeth sharper than yours?"
Mira arched an eyebrow. "Start with the practical stuff. What are we walking into? What do we need to know to survive?"
Vael pushed off the doorframe and moved to the small desk, opening a case with practiced ease. Inside were maps, ink, and a few sealed letters bearing the imperial seal. He pulled out a parchment covered in neat, precise handwriting—her writing, notes she'd taken long ago from a scholar who'd studied the Elves before disappearing himself.
"You're already smarter than most who've gone there," he said, unfolding the document. "They don't like humans. They tolerate us because they have to. But they don't trust us."
He spread the map across the desk, its edges curling slightly with age. "And they don't play by our rules."