This winter, I took a break from my Dragon Gate and Wolf Wood series (don’t worry — Books 5 for both are in the works and coming later this spring!) to write about elves. Handsome and haughty elves (I think this describes them all).

The result is The Elf Tangent, a high fantasy adventure with a bit of romance. It’s a complete story, so no pesky cliffhangers. And it takes place in a new world, so you don’t need to be familiar with my other work to enjoy it.

If you’re interested, you can find the first couple of chapters below.

As I publish this, the novel is exclusive to Amazon and in Kindle Unlimited. Look for it in other stores next year. As always, no matter which store and format of ebook you prefer, you can get all my releases early over on Patreon.

Blurb:

As a princess in the impoverished kingdom of Delantria, it’s Aldari’s job to look pretty, speak little, and marry a prince. 

Studying mathematics and writing papers on economic theory in an effort to fix her people’s financial woes? Her father has forbidden it. With war on the horizon, they must focus on the immediate threat.

Reluctantly, Aldari agrees to marry a prince in a neighboring kingdom to secure an alliance her people desperately need. All is going to plan until the handsome elven mercenary captain hired to guard her marriage caravan turns into her kidnapper. His people are in trouble, and he believes she has the knowledge to help.

But with an invasion force approaching Delantria, Aldari’s own people need her. She must do everything in her power to escape the elves and make it to her wedding in time.

Never mind that her kidnapper is witty, clever, and offers her a challenge that intrigues her mind even as his easy smile intrigues her heart…

Aldari can’t let herself develop feelings for him. To fall in love and walk away from her wedding would mean the end of her kingdom and everyone she cares about. 

 

Chapter 1

 

“Mathematical Models on the Creation of Economic Prosperity Through Capital Creation—are you kidding me, Your Highness?”

From the top of a rickety library ladder with squeaky wheels, Princess Aldari ne Yereth frowned down at her bodyguard. “My father sent you along to protect me from the riffraff, not spy on the books I’m borrowing.”

“It’s not spying if the book is so thick that the letters on the spine are legible from the circulation desk. You said you were picking up some light reading for the trip. That’s not light. Or is your plan to throw it at enemies if your wedding caravan is attacked by highwaymen?”

“That’s a possibility.” When Aldari pulled the fat tome from the shelf, the wobbly ladder lurched at the additional weight. Maybe the book could be used as a weapon. “I could also use it to thump a lippy bodyguard on the head.”

“Hilarious, Your Highness.” Theli propped her fists on her hips and twisted her mouth into a pucker more suitable for a disapproving nanny than a faithful bodyguard. Thanks to the mace hanging from her belt, her severe black trousers and tunic, and the tight braid she always chose for her thick black hair, she didn’t need the pucker to appear stern. “You’ll slay me with your attempts at wit.”

Since they’d grown up together, Aldari wasn’t intimidated by the sternness. “They’re not attempts; they’re successes. I can tell from the quiver of your body that you’re struggling to restrain mirth.” Aldari waved at Theli, though she was as steady as a rock, not so much as an eyelash quivering. “It’s understandable. Princesses are known for their wit. I’m sure it’s in all of the ballads you sing when you think nobody’s listening.”

“Princesses are known for their beauty, not their wit,” Theli said, ignoring the comment on her songwriting and singing hobby. “Occasionally charm, grace, and good manners. Wit is never mentioned.”

“Grace? Are you sure?” The ladder wobbled again as Aldari took an awkward step down with the heavy book under her arm.

“It’s possible minstrels rarely get to interact with real princesses.”

“Then it’s your good fortune that you get to study one up close.” Aldari winked at her.

“Uh huh.” Theli pointed to the book before reaching out a hand to steady her. “If you read aloud from that on our trip, I’m going to flee the caravan and leave you to the highwaymen.”

Judging by the wistful expression Theli sent toward a stained-glass window letting in wan northern light, she would be tempted to flee the caravan regardless of the conversation topic.

Aldari, whose stomach knotted with dread every time she thought of her rapidly approaching wedding, understood the temptation perfectly. She made herself smile and pointed to another title. “Perhaps that one will be more to your taste.”

“Principles of Economic Survival in the Ancient Nation-State of Argodor? Doesn’t this library have any murder mysteries about heroic bodyguards solving crimes while protecting the royal family?”

“Those are popular. They all get checked out as soon as they come in.” The ladder squeaked as Aldari pushed off a bookcase to roll closer to the second tome. After plucking it off the shelf, she gave both books to Theli, afraid to climb down from the decrepit ladder without both hands free.

Theli accepted the books with a frown. “This reminds me of something. Last month, after you were late for that dinner with the dignitaries from the Orath Kingdom because you were caught up in your reading, didn’t the king forbid you from visiting libraries?”

“Of course not. Father values knowledge and education.”

He just didn’t value his youngest daughter studying economics and writing papers full of ideas for fixing the financial woes of their tiny impoverished kingdom. As the minstrels in Theli’s ballads promised, princesses weren’t supposed to be academics; they were supposed to look pretty, speak little, and attract princes from powerful neighboring nations.

Aldari didn’t think she’d been doing any of those things particularly well, but the marriage proposal from the Orath prince had come, regardless, promising an alliance in exchange for Aldari’s hand in marriage. And Father had accepted. With the aggressive Taldar Empire leering down from the Shark Tooth Mountains, what choice did he have?

“So…” Theli eyed the books dubiously. “I’m not aiding you with a forbidden activity?”

“Of course not.” Aldari’s second smile was even more forced. Being reminded that she was going against her father’s wishes made her uneasy.

What if he one day found out that she was publishing under a secret pen name? What if her future husband did? Would she be monitored more closely when she moved to Orath? So closely that she wouldn’t be able to study and write?

Aldari gripped the ladder tightly as the nerves tangling in her belly threatened to blossom into full-fledged panic.

“Uh huh,” Theli said. “I wondered why you dragged me across town to this decrepit library on Tavern Row, where the homeless drunks like to sleep under the tables.”

“There are untapped resources here. And perhaps instead of lecturing me on my wayward ways, you could take those books up to the clerk and check them out for me.”

“I’m busy keeping the riffraff away. Like that surly elf with blood stains on his armor. He looks like he came straight from battling water serpents on the Forever Fog River.”

Aldari spun so quickly the ladder lurched and she almost fell off. Though Theli didn’t take her gaze from the doorway, she reached out and steadied it for her.

“Damn,” Aldari whispered. An elf had walked into the library. “I think that is blood.”

The tall elf gazed across the pitted travertine floor toward them, his forest-green eyes intent. He appeared to be in his early twenties and was handsome, with angular cheekbones, a straight nose, and elegantly pointed ears, but his battle-stained black clothing and black leather armor gave him a grim visage. Dirt smudged his jaw, a bruise darkened one cheek, and long scars marred the side of his neck—some predator must have nearly taken his life with that attack. Uncombed, his long blond hair fell around his shoulder guards, it too stained with grime and blood. A sword was sheathed at his hip, and a bow and quiver of arrows jutted over his shoulder.

“I know blood when I see it,” Theli whispered, her hand resting on the hilt of her mace. “I’ve been trained since birth to be your bodyguard.”

“I thought you started training when you were ten because you were jealous of all the time your father spent with your brothers.”

“I was nine.”

Aldari might have rebutted, but a second elf walked in, this one older and more battle-worn, with a scar slashing across one cheek. He had two swords belted at his hips, and his blond hair was cut short, making his dyspeptic expression prominent. The bloody gouges in his armor might have accounted for his dark mood. He pointed at Aldari, curled his lip in disgust, and said something to the younger elf in their own language.

“Do you and your knowledge and education know what they’re saying?” Theli asked without taking her gaze from them.

The clerk behind the desk disappeared through a door and closed it, the thunk of the lock ringing across the silent library.

“I’m familiar with their number system and how they set up their equations,” Aldari offered.

“I’m sure math is what they’re discussing.” Theli glanced toward the door in the back of the library. “We should slip out and report their presence to the City Guard.”

“Elves are permitted to be in Delantria.” A true statement, though Aldari had only seen a couple of them in her entire twenty-two years of life. Now and then, elven mercenaries who’d grown tired of the Ever War their people had been fighting on their continent for centuries traveled south and found work in human lands, but that was rare. From what she’d heard, such people were shunned by their own kind and called cowards for leaving. “As long as they don’t cause trouble.”

The younger elf started toward them while the older folded his arms over his chest and glowered at the back of his head.

“Those two are oozing trouble,” Theli grumbled.

Not certain whether to disagree or not, Aldari climbed down from her perch. Since she didn’t want to take her gaze from the approaching elf, her foot slipped off a rung, and she almost pitched off the ladder for the second time in as many minutes.

Once more, Theli reached out and steadied her.

“Thanks.” Being ungraceful in front of her bodyguard hadn’t bothered Aldari, but with strange witnesses watching, she blushed in embarrassment.

“Good afternoon,” the elf said in a pleasant if precise and accented baritone. He stopped in front of them, bowed deeply to Aldari, then offered a broad smile that was almost startling for its contrast to his grim attire—and the blood stains. “I am Vethsel Hawk of the Moon Sword mercenaries. Ah, your people would call me Captain Hawk. And that’s Veth—Lieutenant—Setvik.” He tipped his thumb back toward his scowling comrade. Interesting that the older man was the lower ranking of the two. “Am I correct that you are Princess Aldari?” he added.

Theli shot her a warning look as the nerves returned to Aldari’s belly. Should she lie?

Despite the elf’s warm smile, these two looked like robbers or kidnappers. Theli was a capable bodyguard, but even if Aldari jumped in to help, she doubted they could fend off two hardened elven warriors. According to legend, their people were the best fighters in the world, the males and females both honed by generations of constant battle.

“You’re mistaken,” Theli said when Aldari hesitated. “This is my sister Amma.”

Aldari stifled a wince. Thanks to the raven hair and dark brown eyes that Theli had inherited from her islander mother, she looked nothing like the freckled, blue-eyed, and strawberry-blonde-haired Aldari.

“Adopted sister,” Theli amended, perhaps having similar thoughts.

“Yes,” Aldari said, then, not being a natural liar, felt the need to embellish. “I’m the librarian.”

That earned her another warning look from Theli. After all the years they’d spent together, Theli well knew that lying wasn’t one of Aldari’s strengths. It was a small miracle that Aldari had kept anyone except her tutor from finding out about her pen name.

“Interesting. You look familiar.” The elf—Hawk—gripped his chin and tilted his head as he considered her thoughtfully. “I’m certain I’ve seen your portrait before.”

“Have you? In our little kingdom, I am a rather famous librarian. Perhaps you’ve seen my picture in academic journals on athenaeum studies.” Aldari eyed his armor, wondering if he’d picked up an academic journal in his life. And also wondering if that brown tuft stuck to his sword scabbard was a chunk of human hair or animal fur. She swallowed uneasily.

“Ah, yes. That must be where I’ve seen your face before. We try to get all of the latest human journals and periodicals delivered to the battlefield. Especially on such scintillating subjects as athenaeums.”

Behind him, his fellow officer rolled his eyes.

“Perhaps you can help me find a book, madam librarian? Amma, was it?” Hawk offered his broad smile again, the gesture charming even through the bruises and grime.

That didn’t reassure Aldari, not in the least. It was possible he was the charming cutthroat sent in to negotiate with the underground buyers of the things—and people—they stole.

“Certainly,” she made herself say, though a part of her was tempted to make an excuse and hurry out the back door. But what if he gave up his pretense and tried to stop them? She didn’t want Theli to be injured, or worse, because she flung herself at the elves to buy time for Aldari to escape. “Are you interested in economics?”

“I’d like a book on whaling. Your seafaring people are known for their fishing and whaling, aren’t they?”

Yes, since the empire had taken over their ore-rich mountains and pushed the Delantrian border out onto the peninsula, whale oil was the only commodity they had the means to collect and trade.

“They are,” was all Aldari said, not wanting to highlight her kingdom’s deficiencies.

“As a librarian—a famous librarian—I trust you know where everything is in here?” Hawk’s smile turned challenging, and Aldari realized he didn’t believe her story.

“My sister usually shelves the books—” Aldari tilted her head toward Theli, “—but I can certainly guide you to an appropriate title.”

“Your sister carries a large mace—for a librarian.”

“To appropriately punish miscreants who dog-ear the pages or overly crease the spines.” Aldari walked slowly, her gaze darting from bookcase to bookcase as she searched for the appropriate row. In the castle library, she could have found anything with ease, but as Theli had pointed out, this wasn’t where she typically checked out books. But the kingdom, however impoverished, was well-organized when it came to education and had a kingdom-wide cataloging system for organizing books. She found the section on hunting and fishing roughly where she expected it. “Are your people thinking of getting into whaling?”

“Perhaps if the material is suitably stimulating. My comrade loves hobbies that involve driving pointy sticks into things.” Hawk smirked back at his lieutenant, who remained by the door, glowering at what he seemed to believe was a waste of time.

“Judging by your martial accoutrements, I would guess you both do.” Aldari eyed the feathered shafts of arrows visible in his quiver.

Though Hawk’s smile lingered, the hint of a grimmer emotion flashed in his green eyes. “It has been the elven pastime of these past centuries.”

Aldari pulled a book off the shelf. A History of Whaling Techniques and the Origins of the Two-Flue Harpoon. “Here you go.”

“Excellent. I’m certain this will be riveting reading.”

“My sister is incapable of selecting riveting reading,” Theli muttered without glancing over. She must have decided the lieutenant was the more dangerous of the two elves, for her focus was on him.

Aldari was less certain. Hawk might have a handsome face and charming smile, but he wouldn’t have risen so quickly in the ranks if he hadn’t been competent. Very competent.

The elves had a monarchy, the same as Delantria, but from what she’d read, their military ranks were granted to those with the talent to prove themselves, not out of nepotism or a relation to the throne. Admittedly, she didn’t know if that applied to the rogues who left their homeland to start their own mercenary companies, but something about Hawk made her suspect he was highly capable. And dangerous.

“I’m certain you’re wrong,” Hawk told Theli, “and I shall look forward to delving into this fine piece during my next journey.”

He bowed again to Aldari and walked toward the doorway.

Aldari thought about pointing out that those who weren’t subjects of the kingdom were supposed to fill out a form and leave a deposit when they checked out books, but she didn’t want to do anything to keep those two from leaving. Why they’d been looking for her, she couldn’t guess, but she doubted it was for a good reason.

 

Chapter 2

 

“Are you sure you don’t want to take my place?” Aldari asked her sister—her real sister—as they walked through the castle courtyard toward the train of carriages waiting to whisk Aldari off to Orath for her wedding. A wedding to a man she’d never met, in a kingdom she’d never visited. How could it fail to be a delight?

Shydena, her elder by two years and prone to sarcasm, gave her a surprisingly sympathetic look. The kind usually reserved for geriatric relatives wasting away from a fatal illness. The sympathy made Aldari feel uneasy rather than heartened, and she wondered if Shydena had heard more about Prince Xerik than she had.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Shydena said, “but I’m still surprised he chose you over me. You’re gangly, bookish, and don’t know the first thing about pleasuring a man. You’ll probably show up in his bedroom on your wedding night with ink on your fingers.”

“How would ink affect anything?”

“I’m certain a prince doesn’t want his favorite protrusion stained black.”

Aldari rubbed her face. “I know how to wash my hands. And I’m not planning on touching any of his protrusions.”

“If that’s true, you’re going to be a disappointing wife.” Shydena arched her eyebrows. “Trust me, touching is required. Surely, with all the books you’ve read, you have some awareness of the basic mechanics of sex.”

“Most of our library’s books that cover the topic of procreation discuss it in terms of animals.” Aldari still remembered being mortified when she’d read about the mating practices of dolphins and sharks. She’d been twelve at the time. Since then, she’d stayed out of that aisle in the library.

Shydena shook her head. “Just ask him what he likes, and do it. And hope he doesn’t have any perversions that are too odious.”

Whether her expression was startled or horrified, Aldari didn’t know, but Shydena slanted that sympathetic look toward her again. “I can’t say I’d be eager to visit Orath, especially permanently, but I think Prince Xerik picked the wrong sister.”

“Neither of us is supposed to know anything about sex, you know. You’ll recall Father’s frequent and vociferous opinions on the matter.”

“That we remain virgins until our weddings because we live in ridiculous backward times when some men believe that’s a more desirable trait in a woman? Please. Whatever prince I marry will be ecstatic to find out that I’m experienced in bedroom matters. I’d be disappointed if he wasn’t experienced.” Shydena wrinkled her nose. “I know arranged marriages are usually far from romantic, but I hope I don’t get stuck with a thirteen-year-old who can’t even find the right hole.”

Aldari almost dropped the bag of books she was carrying, and the pencil she’d tucked behind her ear fell out. Maybe she should have been accustomed to her sister’s ribald streak, but when Mother had been alive, she’d always insisted that little princesses weren’t supposed to speak of or even think about sex, and Aldari’s own distraction with other topics had left her a touch naive on such matters.

“If you mean Xerik’s little brother Xarloran, I believe he’s fourteen now.” Aldari bent to pick up her pencil and almost lost one of the pouches of candies that she’d tucked into her dress pocket for the trip. Beltzi, the castle chef, had made them for her, as he’d been doing since she’d been a toddler. He’d wept as he’d hugged her goodbye. All day, she’d been trying not to think about how it might be years—if ever—before she was permitted to return home for a visit, but the tears and hugs from the staff had made that difficult. “Besides, we should only need to wed one Orathian prince to secure an alliance for our kingdom.”

Aldari looked wistfully toward the sea just visible through the castle gate, the portcullis up and waiting for the wedding caravan to depart. The armed soldiers who would accompany it through the dangerous Skytrail Pass in the Shark Tooth Mountains were stationed around the carriage and wagons, some on foot, some on horseback.

Fortunately, Theli was among the blue-uniformed men, though her head was bent as she conferred with one of the soldiers, and she frowned with worry at something. Aldari was glad her bodyguard and friend of so many years was being sent with her, but she also felt guilty that Theli had to leave her parents and siblings, perhaps forever.

Though Aldari hadn’t yet left, a wave of homesickness washed over her as she imagined spending the rest of her life in landlocked Orath with a man who’d chosen her over her sister because of her virginity rather than romantic feelings or common interests. From what she’d heard, Prince Xerik favored hunting and horse racing to reading or academic pursuits. All she could hope was that the alliance was worth it, that Xerik’s father would do as he’d promised in exchange for Aldari marrying his son: send weapons, black powder, and a legion of troops to deter the Taldar Empire from encroaching farther into Delantrian lands.

“Let’s hope,” Shydena said as they stopped in front of the carriage where Aldari’s belongings had been packed. “My preferences run toward mature handsome studs who can stroke a lover like a master violinist in a concert in the Great Hall.”

One of the guards stepped around the corner of the carriage, a startlingly familiar man in black leather instead of the blue military uniform of Delantria. A startlingly familiar elf.

This time, Aldari did drop her bag. What were elven mercenaries doing here within the castle walls?

“Good morning, Librarian Amma.” Captain Hawk addressed her with a bow, plucking up her bag and holding it out to her. He’d washed up, cleaning the dirt off his face and the blood off his armor, and he’d run a comb through his long blond hair. “Is this patron of the musical arts another of your sisters?” He extended his hand toward Shydena.

“Uh,” Aldari uttered.

“Librarian Amma?” Shydena propped a fist on her hip and assumed the haughty tone she usually only adopted when she wanted to chastise a servant or guard for failing to use proper decorum in the presence of royalty. “This is Princess Aldari, and I am Princess Shydena. Who are you, and what are you doing in the castle? With weapons no less.” She looked pointedly at his sword and bow.

“I’m Vethsel Hawk. You may call me Captain.”

“I may call for the castle guard to escort you out of the courtyard. What are you doing in here?”

“He might be here to see Father.” Aldari put a hand on her sister’s arm, hoping she would tone down the haughtiness. Though Aldari felt safer from would-be thieves and kidnappers in the castle than in the library on the far side of the city, she hadn’t forgotten her first impression of Hawk, that he was as dangerous as the tales about elves promised.

When his lieutenant stepped into view, she jumped. Only then did she realize that there were no fewer than twenty blond elves in black leather armor among the military men.

“Princess Aldari?” Hawk raised his eyebrows in feigned shock. “That’s not the name she gave me when we met yesterday. As for the rest, I’m inspecting the caravan carriages for soundness. If we end up in a battle, I’d like to know that the first arrow fired won’t pierce the walls and perforate a passenger. As an experienced mercenary and occasional guard of important persons, I can tell you how poorly they react to perforation.”

“You’re coming along?” The significance of the elves mingling with the military men came to Aldari, though her mind stuttered with confusion. Why would her father have hired mercenaries to protect her on the journey to Orath?

Yes, Delantria was poor, but it wasn’t as if they didn’t have men of their own. Reliable men who were natives of the kingdom, not sell-swords with no allegiance to Delantria or humans in general.

“We have been retained to escort you to Orath, yes,” Hawk told her. “As my first duty, I’d like to inform you that you’ve already picked up a stowaway.”

“What are you talking about?” Shydena frowned at Aldari—did she also find this addition of mercenaries alarming?

Hawk held up a finger, then crouched and pointed under a carriage. His lieutenant was watching their exchange with as dark an expression as he’d worn the day before, his hands resting on the leather-wrapped hilts of his twin longswords. He looked like the villain in one of Theli’s murder mysteries, not a dependable caravan guard.

“Father’s coming.” Shydena stepped back, nodding for Aldari to come with her. “We’ll ask him about this.”

Hawk arched his eyebrows. “You don’t want to do anything about this stowaway?”

Though she was inclined to go with Shydena and speak to Father, curiosity prompted Aldari to crouch and peer under the carriage. To her surprise, her ten-year-old brother clung to the framework underneath, his arms wrapped around one axle and his feet propped against the other.

“Hello, Rothi,” Aldari said.

He shifted his grip so he could hold a finger to his lips. “Sssh. I’m going with you.”

“To protect me on the journey?”

“To see the world! I want to have adventures. Like Grandpa!”

“The view from under the carriage won’t be spectacular, and you’ll have trouble hanging on to the axles once they start rotating.”

“I was going to come out once we camped for the night. Once we’re far enough away, the caravan won’t be able to turn back. You can’t be late for your wedding. Father said so. We’re depending on those troops. You’ll have to take me the whole way, and I’ll get to see the monster-filled mountains and Orath too. Then the whole world.”

“Father and your tutor would be disappointed if you didn’t show up for your afternoon lessons,” Aldari pointed out. “You are the heir to the throne, after all.”

Rothi wrinkled up his nose as if he’d bitten into raw liver. “I wanna be like Grandpa. He travels and writes to us about all kinds of adventures. I don’t want to sit on a throne all day. Father’s job is so boring.”

Making a disgusted noise, the mercenary lieutenant crouched down beside Hawk and dragged Rothi out from under the carriage. Rothi yelped and kicked and swung at him, but the elf held him out at arm’s length, as if he weighed no more than a cat.

“What’s going on here?” came Father’s rumbling bass voice.

He strode up, looking as powerful and regal as ever, even if his robes were frayed and shabby compared to the attire the Orathian dignitaries had worn. Gray shot through his trimmed brown beard, and his blue eyes were piercing as he surveyed the elves. He didn’t appear surprised to see them—did that mean they were supposed to be there? He didn’t even seem that surprised to see Rothi dangling from the lieutenant’s grip, though his frown did convey disappointment in his son.

Hawk tapped his lieutenant’s arm and pointed to the ground.

The older elf—what was his name again? Setvik—set his captive down but not without a glance of supreme irritation toward his captain. Irritation and… was that hatred? Or maybe resentment because Hawk had been promoted over him? Or had Hawk taken charge of the company because he’d bested Setvik in a fight?

Aldari knew little about elven ways or mercenary companies and could only guess at the reason for that animosity, but it unnerved her. Might not someone with such distaste for his captain betray him? Or walk away from the company in a crucial moment?

“Stowaway, Your Majesty.” Hawk bowed toward Father.

“Go inside, Rothlar,” Father said. “You have lessons.”

“I wanted to see the world,” Rothi whispered, though he studied Father’s shoes instead of meeting his eyes.

“When you’re older, you’ll be able to.”

Rothi shook his head bleakly.

Aldari, who couldn’t remember a time when Father had taken a vacation, much less traveled to another country, perfectly understood her little brother’s feeling of being trapped by his fate. But what could they do? This was the life they’d been born into. It came with comforts that few in the kingdom enjoyed, so they shouldn’t complain, but it was hard at times not to feel bitter about having their lives chosen for them.

“Say goodbye to your sister, and go find your tutor,” Father said.

Rothi hugged Aldari, what he intended to be a brief hug, but Aldari wrapped her arms around him and struggled to let go as that feeling of homesickness returned. Rothi endured the embrace for more seconds than he might usually have, but then he squirmed and protested.

“Aldi… I can’t breathe.”

“Sorry.” She made herself release him. “Be good while I’m gone. Don’t forget to practice your multiplication tables. What’s seven times eight?”

Rothi rolled his eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t dislodge from the sockets and fall to the flagstones.

“Fifty-six. What’s a hundred and seven times nine-hundred and eight?” He squinted at her, his voice full of challenge.

“97,156,” she said dryly. “Do you know if I’m right?”

“No,” he admitted.

Aldari slid her pencil out from behind her ear and pulled a small notebook out of her pocket.

“Why are you taking math stuff with you?” Rothi asked.

“Math is important.” Aldari pushed the implements into his hand. “If I’m wrong, and you can prove it, I’ll give you an elf ear.” She drew out one of her pouches of sweets before it occurred to her that the common candy name might be offensive to the mercenaries. Warily, she looked over and found the captain and lieutenant watching her intently.

“What if you’re right, and I prove it?” Rothi started writing the digits on an empty notebook page.

“I’ll still give you a, uhm, piece of candy.”

The surly lieutenant asked Hawk something in their tongue and pointed to his ear.

Hawk, who didn’t look offended in the least, replied with a shrug and a single word.

That only angered Setvik, who rattled off several increasingly heated sentences as he pointed at Aldari and the pouch. She didn’t understand a word but had no trouble telling that he was offended, either by the candy name or something else she’d done.

“Is there a problem?” her father asked in a tone that suggested there had better not be.

His soldiers, trained to pay attention to their monarch’s cues, turned to focus on him and watch the elves. They didn’t reach for their weapons, and the nervous glances they shot each other implied they didn’t want to fight the mercenaries, but they would if they had to. Aldari had little doubt.

“No problem, Your Majesty.” Hawk held up a hand to his lieutenant, and Setvik fell silent. “We’re prepared for the journey and are honored to serve you and your daughter in this small way.”

“Let’s hope it’s a small way,” Father rumbled with a sigh, “and that the journey is uneventful. But be alert in the pass.” He nodded toward the senior military officer as well as Hawk. “Since the Taldar Empire has designs on our kingdom, it’s possible they don’t want to see this wedding—this alliance—go forward.”

For the first time, Aldari—who’d been more worried about life with her future husband and, since her sister had spoken, what he might expect in the bedroom—realized that the Taldarians might try to keep her from arriving.

“Taldar’s soldiers are no match for Moon Sword mercenaries,” Setvik said, his words more heavily accented than Hawk’s. “If they dare attack the caravan with our people present, we will handle them.”

“Good.” Father nodded at the elves. “Thank you.”

He drew Aldari aside and hugged her. “I will miss you, my daughter, but I’m certain you’ll arrive safely. Our soldiers are capable, but I hired the elves to make sure of that. With their reputation, I’m hoping you won’t be bothered in the least. Even if you are, they can protect you.”

“Thank you, Father.” Aldari thought of her sister’s comment about possible perversions and wondered if she could pay the mercenary captain to accompany her into her husband’s bedchamber on the first night. That probably wasn’t the best way to start off a marriage.

“You will write,” Father said. “Often.”

“Of course. You know of my fondness for words.”

“I do.” He smiled, glancing at the pencil that she’d given to Rothi, but his expression soon grew grave. “I know you’ve been aware since your earliest days that it would be your duty to marry for the sake of the kingdom, but I regret that I can’t give you a choice in your husband.” He lowered his voice. “I sometimes feel like a hypocrite in that, since I married your mother for love, not because of political machinations.”

“She used to tell us the story.”

“Yes.” Father swallowed, a hint of moisture filming his eyes. Even after ten years, speaking of Mother caused him sadness.

Aldari wondered if she would ever feel such an attachment to Prince Xerik. Maybe he wouldn’t be so bad, and she would grow to care about him.

“But had I listened to my father and done as he wished, selecting a wife from one of the more prosperous kingdoms… perhaps we would not be in such straits now.” He gripped her shoulders and gazed earnestly into her eyes. “We need this alliance if we’re to have any chance of fending off the empire, of retaining our sovereignty. Our freedom.”

“I know, Father. I understand.” And she did. It was just… hard. “Maybe you could read a few papers by Professor Lyn Dorit while I’m away. She has a lot of interesting ideas about improving the wealth of the kingdom and its subjects.”

It was the first time she’d mentioned her pen name to her father—she well remembered how he’d scoffed at the ridiculously fanciful economic theories she’d shared with him when she’d been younger, and she’d been afraid to bring up the subject with him since.

He scoffed. “By giving land to the commoners and allowing people to start businesses tax-free?”

Well, at least he’d heard of Dorit’s ideas.

“By allowing commoners to buy land and earn the money to do so by starting farms, industries, and businesses where they have the potential to reap rewards and are thus incentivized for their efforts,” she said. “We need to encourage the development of industry. With fewer and fewer whales in our seas these days, we can’t rely on whale-oil exports forever. Have you read Professor Dorit’s paper showing calculations for our future prosperity if that resource continues to dwindle?”

“Dorit is a naive academic with no experience governing a nation.”

Admittedly true, but Aldari didn’t think she was wrong. Besides, what was the harm in making a few changes and seeing if they worked? It wasn’t as if things could get much worse.

“The morning is advancing, and you need to leave on your journey.” Father released her. “Be safe, my daughter.”

“Aldari.” Rothi waved the notepad. “Your math was right. Look.”

She managed a smile as she took the implements back from him. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“Elf ear, please.” Rothi held out his hand.

“Just call it candy,” she whispered, glancing at the elves again as she gave him a piece.

Fortunately, Setvik had moved around to the other side of the caravan and was speaking to some of his men. Hawk was still watching them though. For several seconds, his eyes locked on to the notepad and the math Rothi had worked out, then he lifted his gaze to hers and smiled. Something akin to triumph flashed in his eyes, as if he’d found what he sought, but the expression disappeared, leaving only the pleasant smile behind.

He opened the carriage door and offered his hand. “Are you ready to go, Your Highness?”

No. Aldari looked bleakly around the castle and out toward the sea again, desperately wanting to stay, to run back and hide in her room. But her father was watching, and she had no choice but to nod and step forward.

She could have climbed into the carriage without help—she wasn’t that much of a klutz—but a princess was supposed to accept a gentleman’s offer of assistance, or so her nanny had always informed her, so she rested her hand on Hawk’s calloused palm. Whether a mercenary counted as a gentleman or not, she didn’t know, but he politely guided her into the carriage and closed the door behind her.

Aldari glanced back in time to catch that flash of triumph in his eyes again, and uncertainty crept into her belly. Had her father made a mistake in hiring the elven mercenaries?

~

If you want to continue on, please pick up a copy of The Elf Tangent! Thanks!