Brightest Stars | Love of Royals: Book I

VI: A Little Joy

I'm not meant to be doing this. He's seducing me. I can't let Thranduil trick me into staying here, keeping me from my task, forever concealing me from the world. It's already begun.

I'm torn right in two between giving him what he wants—my heart, soul and body—or shutting him out and requesting the help of another healer until I can leave.  I still have a task out there waiting for me, and an attachment to Thranduil will only slow me down.

But I want to stay with him.  He makes me feel safe, alive, free—all the happy feelings I could have possibly dreamed of all rolled into one.  I can't just let all that go.

According to Thranduil, Tavalon—Avadhil's father—is livid. Being an Elf of noble blood, he felt it was acceptable to take his anger out on Thranduil for bringing a Star here in the first place. Apparently it wasn't his son and his friends who caused the trouble—trouble was inevitable when something as valuable as a Star was brought into this kingdom.

'I sent him away before he could infuriate me any longer,' Thranduil finishes, with a smirk of satisfaction. Clean, dry and warm, he and I are sat on my bed talking. It's been hours since he brought me out of his room and into the hands of some healers to take care of me while he met with Tavalon. When Thranduil did return, he was relieved to be out of the irritable elf's company.

Over the past few hours, we've drifted away from the topic of the kiss. It's as if both of us are afraid to bring it up, although we desperately want to. I wish I could tell Thranduil what's been going on in my mind, but then all hopes of maintaining a good relationship with him are gone. Though it is completely futile, we've both taken it as if ignoring the kiss and the words spoken before it is the best way to go until we've made up our minds.

'Why is Tavalon one of your advisors if he's so awful?' I ask, picking at a loose thread on my new dress.

'Again, connections with my father meant he was guaranteed a high-ranking position in his kingdom. Tavalon's been an advisor longer than his sons have been alive, and they are both in their late 2000s. Despite loathing him with all my strength, I cannot possibly get rid of him. Although he's ridiculously short-tempered, he is loyal, decisive and an excellent leader in battle. There have been many wars which may not have been won if it weren't for him.'

My only response is a small grunt. My leg is playing up, which is making me feel almost as irritable as Tavalon was described; there is also another feeling, hot and unpleasant, throbbing in my head. I wriggle carefully under the covers while Thranduil is still sat at the other end, his eyes filling with concern as he sees me wince.

'Is something wrong, Elena?' he says, reaching down to touch my sweaty hand. When he does, he immediately draws back his fingers and gasps slightly. 'I... I think you're not well.'

'No, of course I'm well. It's just my leg,' I say dismissively, but Thranduil looks unconvinced.

'You've worn yourself out. And I can see that look, Elena. I can tell you're lying, and don't deny it again because I know a sick elleth when I see one.' He rises, and I accept defeat. Maybe I am a bit sick. So what? He can heal me, it's not impossible.

'Alright, what should I do?' I answer, and to my horror, this comes out far more rudely than I intended.

Ignoring my rudeness, Thranduil's thick brows furrow. 'I think I have something than can bring the temperature down, and I should probably get some more herbs for your leg. And perhaps some warm tea to help you sleep.' He advances towards the door, but before reaching for the handle, he turns around abruptly. 'I clearly cannot leave you on your own for very long, so I'll send a maid to look after you while I find exactly what you need.'