Elf Heart (Immortal Souls: Book 1)

Amatus and Arabella

Prince Amatus never wanted anyone hurt. As far as intentions went, his were pretty vague, but never malicious. That's the tricky thing about intentions, though. It's difficult to know where they will lead.

His life and intentions began to change on a pleasant day. The sun shown and warmed the land of Denna. The grass was green and the air crisp as the sea breeze drifted over the island. Birds sang their songs from the trees, tempting anyone nearby to stop and listen.

On such a day, a young elf like Amatus could hardly be expected to remain indoors and study, whatever his tutors insisted. Sneaking out was never easy, but he'd done it so many times, there were few who could stop him.

Unfortunately, one of those few was Fronia, his language tutor. She was working with him that day and had learned quickly not to let him out of her sight during lessons. She was deceptively fast and strong, despite her small stature. He knew escaping from her would be a challenge. Even if he made it out of the building, she'd proven she was willing to chase him as far as necessary and drag him back to class. If he resisted, she would drag him by the ear, which was as painful as it was humiliating. Due to his royal status, few elves dared to treat him so roughly. However, Fronia was not easily intimidated and would do whatever she believed to be best for his education.

"Are you listening?" she demanded as she caught him staring at the door. Her dark hair was braided tightly behind her. Her cheekbones looked sharp enough to cut someone and her lavender eyes glinted with annoyance as she examined her pupil.

"I am," he assured her. He knew the door was locked and the room had no windows. His father and tutors had come up with a variety of precautions to keep him from running off. He could pick the lock easily enough, but there were sure to be guards stationed outside the door. It would certainly be difficult to escape, but Amatus rarely turned down a challenge.

"What did I just say, then?" She walked closer to his desk so she was towering over the seated prince. Her dress was a simple black frock with no embroidery. It stopped at her ankles, making it easier for her to run if need be. Fronia always cared more about utility than appearance.

"You were talking about how the culture of the phents is reflected in their language." He continued to stare at the door as he spoke in a monotone. "Honestly, why am I even learning a dead language, though? I already know enough to communicate with anyone I'm likely to meet. There's little point in knowing how to speak to the dead. They can't speak back, after all." He gave her a lazy grin. "Or do you intend to teach me necromancy, as well? I might actually be interested in that."

Fronia stared him down. "You have an excellent ear for languages, so I'm not sure why you insist on playing the fool."

"I'm not playing," he assured her. "I'm just a fool."

"Now, we both know that's not true."

It wasn't really a scolding, but it didn't feel like a compliment, either. Her voice was as sharp as her cheekbones, but the words were as kind as he was likely to hear from any of his tutors.

Amatus pursed his lips and reiterated, "I've learned as many languages as I'm likely to use. Why learn another?"

"You never know which ones might come in handy. If you..." She trailed off, blinking several times. "If you showed..."

Amatus stood and quickly moved to Fronia's side just before her eyes closed and she started to fall. He caught her, laying her gently on the floor of the room before rushing to the door. He picked the lock with practiced ease and dashed out, running past several unconscious guards in his escape. The trap had taken several weeks to craft and set up but would only last a few minutes.