The Light of Elysium

56 - The Ice Queen and the King of Sin

(Elissa's PoV)

I tuck a strand of white-blonde hair behind my ear. It was an enormous relief when I woke up this morning to find it back to normal. For the past couple of days it had remained resolutely black, no matter how many times I washed it. I was beginning to fear that the change was permanent.

I've been closeted at home, which has been a mixed blessing because I've not had to deal with the elven court, but it's also kept me away from Aren. I didn't dare face him looking like a dark elf. I miss him and feel the ache of separation.

I bite the end of my pencil and scrunch my nose at the sketch before me. I'm not very good and just can't get the perspective right. Father is working quietly beside me on a pencil drawing of a horse's head, which is so lifelike I can almost imagine that it's looking at me. I certainly haven't inherited his artistic flare. 

It makes me reminisce about Kate; she would doodle on napkins and on the back of envelopes capturing ideas for her paintings. I miss her and Tabbi too. The closest thing I've got to a girlfriend here is Darish.

The bell echoes through the hallway and sends my heart stuttering. Yesterday, Nero tried to call upon me. Thankfully father had sent him away saying that I was unwell and not up to visitors.

Darish enters the room.  "Your Highness, the queen has sent a messenger to invite you and Princess Elissa to join her and the Lords of Vega riding."

Father gives me a questioning look, evidently leaving the decision to me. Having been cooped up indoors I'm starting to go a bit stir-crazy and could really do with getting out, so nod eagerly.

"Tell the messenger we will gladly ride," Aldebaran instructs.

I race upstairs and change. There is one thing about living at Alfheimr, the clothes are exquisite. They are so beautifully tailored and made with such gorgeous material that I can't help but love my new wardrobe.

My riding outfit is like a cross between a dress and a cloak with a split up the front to mid-thigh to allow easy mounting of a horse. I stroke the green material, which is as soft as cashmere and decorated with elven patterns embroidered in gold. I've paired it with knee-high black riding boots.

Outside, the sun is trying vainly to penetrate the thick cloud and the air has a sharp bite to it. Celestia presents a visage of an ice sculpture, pale skin and hair, clothed in a white fur cloak and mounted on a pure white mare. I can see why they refer to her as the White Queen.

Deneb and Altair are both riding chestnut brown stallions with pale manes. Two more pure white horses are being held by grooms.

As I approach my mount, he stamps at the frosted ground and his breath comes out in a cloud of steam. I can tell that he is a spirited creature, yet as I hold his gaze, it doesn't take long for him to accept me as his mistress.

I nimbly spring into the saddle and as a group we set off at a sedate walking pace. Soon, Altair urges his horse forward and I give chase. The feeling of speed is exhilarating and grants me a brief sense of freedom. The sun wins its battle over the cloud, melting it away and shining down upon us.

Grinning, I glance over at the others who are maintaining a gentler pace. Deneb's eyes meet mine and I resist the urge to shudder, for there is something vaguely unsettling about him. He is so very different from his son Altair, who is charming company and proves a welcome distraction from my worries.

However, I'm not so naive as to not notice my grandmother's little smile and wonder whether some machinations are afoot. I'm going to have to tread carefully.

......

My respite is short lived, for barely has Altair helped me down after our ride, than a black liveried servant informs me that the king urgently requires my presence. I look appealingly  to my father and Aldebaran nods, wordlessly agreeing to accompany me.