Page 16 of The Broken Elf King
After a full two minutes, I felt totally fine and ever so casually slid the tea over to the king. He stared at it warily while I nibbled on the cookie.
It’s okay, I wanted to tell him.It’s safe. But you could see the concern in his face as he pulled the cup to his lips and then looked at me. I gave him an encouraging smile and he drank. After I’d tasted the cookie, which was delicious because almond was my favorite, I gave that to him as well and then focused on the women.
“My daughter, Gertie, loves to read and garden. She’s also a master archer,” Agatha stated.
I put a star next to Gertie’s name. Sounded like a good fit off the bat. King Raife met my eyes in agreement.
“Would you say your daughter Gertie is a strong and silent type, or a social butterfly?” I asked her, my quill poised over the parchment.
She swallowed hard, looking down at my parchment, which I kept at an angle so that only the king and I could see it.
“She can be both,” Agatha said diplomatically.
I nodded, giving her a smile. It must be hard to be called into a room with a bunch of other mothers—all of them trying to get their daughter to be the next queen.
“My Bronwyn is quite shy, I must say. She also likes reading and will play chess for hours until you pull her away. She won the ladies’ classic tournament last year.”
“I heard that,” the king said, “Congratulations, you must be very proud.”
I placed a star next to her name as well. The meeting went on with each mother giving a little snippet of information about their daughter and respectfully allowing the others to speak. I was surprised at the civility here. No speaking over the other or trying to tear another’s daughter down. I was also surprised the daughters themselves were not here. It must be the custom.
“Did any of you bring a picture?” I asked, and then immediately cursed myself. Box cameras were a human Nightfall thing. “Or a portrait?”
The women nodded their heads excitedly and one by one pulled small eight-to-ten-inch hand painted portraits from their satchels. The artisans of Elf City were the best in the realm. Their paintings were amazing, and that was shown true here.
I glanced at them at the same time the king did. “They are all so beautiful,” the king said diplomatically.
I wished I could have a moment to confer with the king on which ones he thought the prettiest, but instead I made hearts next to the names of the ones I thought the most stunning. He looked at my parchment and nodded to me.
I was just about to ask another question when the door burst open, startling us all. A woman who wore the white robes of a healer looked to the king. She was speckled with bits of blood. “My lord, I’m sorry, it’s just that one of your patients—”
He stood so fast the chair knocked over and then he fled from the room, following her without another word.
“Thank you all for coming. The king’s patients are so important to him. We will be in touch about dinner dates for some of your daughters,” I said to everyone and stood, running after the king.
I had to bolt down the hallway to catch up with them.
“Who is it?” King Raife was asking the healer as we jogged at full speed down the hall.
“Corleenaa,” she said, and the king’s face fell.
He cursed. “The bleeding is back? It makes no sense!”
I riffled through the notes for our infirmary rounds, and stopped on the name Corleenaa Yahmeen.
Corleenaa Yahmeen.
Age: six.
Bleeding disorder of unknown cause.
We ran across the palace lawn at breakneck speed over to a giant brick building I assumed was the infirmary. My sandal strap cut into my heel but I ignored it. If a six-year-old was bleeding out, it wasn’t worth caring about foot pain. We passed the infirmary sign and I barely noticed the name.
Raife Lightstone Healing Infirmary.
We burst into a busy intake room and then down a hallway, to a set of double doors markedOperating Theatre. I knew that this would be nothing like our human operating rooms, but an elvin one full of wands and crystals and light.
“Stay here or go to the viewing room,” Raife said to me, and my heart fell.
