Elven Legacy

Chapter 23

Zemisha

They had let her draw back the golden curtain and open her carriage window, just a little. Her hands were unbound. Apparently, Zemisha was 'behaving herself' and Viper was pleased. Blood Eyes was . . . his usual indifferent self.

Zemisha behaved, simply because she was well aware that trying to escape would've been foolish. Her two captors were Academy-trained, experienced mercenaries with blades and demons under their command, and she had nothing.

Moreover, they were near the heart of the Azurian Empire, and the Red Patrol – the strict, unforgiving militia – were everywhere. She'd heard rumors on how rough these city soldiers could get with their prisoners, and all things considered Zemisha would rather stay with Viper and Blood Eyes.

She felt so very sore and irritated from being in the godforsaken carriage non-stop. But at least now, as they crossed the city of Bachezze, the afternoon sunlight warmed the skin of her face and her hand as it rested on the window's lower edge. The soft wind ruffled her long hair, which tumbled in tangles down her bare shoulders.

They were currently stuck in traffic.

Bachezze had a busy city center with narrow, ineffective cobbled streets – carriages lined up, occasionally advancing. Zemisha cast a glance along her side of the street, taking in the pastry shop, butcher's shop, spice market, fruit market – all these scents of food making her mouth water. All they'd given her so far were some bland biscuits, some nuts, and dried fruit. She was starving, and craved a real meal. But she knew better than to whine about it.

Passersby and shoppers wore colorful garb, talked animatedly, and there were pigeons all over the cobbles, with sometimes a street cat chasing after them, making children laugh. Zemisha almost smiled at one such scene, then reeled it in and sighed instead.

Two days now, away from Fellera, from the castle, and already she felt homesick. She missed Jaden, she missed Moira and Matty – she even missed Uncle Fredrick, and Kitera.

She believed, without the shadow of a doubt, that Jaden and Kitera would come after her. Jaden because he truly cared, and Kitera more so out of duty. Mingled reactions vied inside her, though. She felt lucky and blessed that she had people coming to help her. But the thought of what Neros might do to them if he caught them sent chilled shivers down her spine.

Zemisha had realized something, these past two days. After all, she'd had time to think – too much time.

She wasn't worried at all what Neros might do to her. She wasn't sure why.

I'm not afraid of him, I suppose. I should be. But I'm not.

Neros had been sending her poem after poem, over the past year. Full disclosure, some of them were actually mesmerizing. But those hadn't been written by Neros himself. Funnily enough, the first ones he'd sent, he did write himself. Then, as if belatedly realizing he was a terrible poet, he'd clearly hired the best poets in Azuria. Thus Zemisha had started receiving true masterpieces. Neros couldn't even be bothered to rewrite them in his own handwriting, the idiot.

Not that such a ruse would've worked on her, anyway. Some of the writers were so famous that Zemisha recognized their style right away. Her childhood tutors had made her read many of their anthologies. But Neros didn't know that. How could he? Her spoiled half-brother wasn't interested in anyone's life but his own.

Following this outburst of literary gems arriving at the castle – and it wasn't like Zemisha was ungrateful; she actually used those poems for her Azurian lessons to Moira and Jaden – Zemisha had written a long letter to Neros. Explaining, in full sincerity, that a part of her was touched by his attentions, but that she couldn't, or rather wouldn't renounce her life in Fellera, and her soon-to-be position as Fellera's queen. In that letter, hoping it would further deter him, she also confessed her affection and desire for both men and women.