Black Blood

-B2- Chapter 11

Arriving at muscle-white building is almost like coming home, to hell. The oak tree standing in the square brings back my memories. It's not that I've ever forgotten it, I just put it away. It's not that I ever forgave Walmoet, I remembered it.

The guard makes us stop in the square in front of the temple. The curious elves make their way out of the houses. Some faces I recognise, others are unfamiliar.

'The king wants to receive you first,' the guard says. He describes it courteously but we both know we are not here for a reception. We are here for an inspection. Novak has figured it out, I have figured it out and Elenor has no idea.

We dismount our horses, hand the reins to the guard and walk in with the two guards, who were standing in front of the temple entrance. All the white splendour approaches us. The first thing I notice is the bustle in the main hall. Dozens of elves stand with glasses in their hands talking to each other. It looks like we have stepped into a party. I immediately look around to see if there is a glimpse of Alisha. At first glance, there is no sign of her.

'Follow me,' says one of the guards who walked with us. He pushes himself through the crowd while the other guard pushes us in the right direction. Some groups look up from their conversation, watching the strangers.

Slowly, the elevation with Walmut and his women enters our view. The wither has a lady sitting on his lap. The others ladies on the elevation sit curved around a baby. As on my previous visit, they are scantily clad in white attire. Almost nothing is left to the imagination. The sight is not something I desire, rather what makes me uncomfortable.

You could call it culture, though I don't know exactly which one. Cultures differ from each other, that's something I've learned over the past few months. Mages are competitive, have little ritual and individually oriented. Werewolves are more group-oriented, have a lot of ritual and a clear ranking that is respected. The elven culture is still vague to me. The king and the people seem to have very different dealings with each other. What is clear is that Walmut is not monogamous and that is exactly what his death is going to be.

It takes a second for my eye to fall on Nalu. She is one of the women bent over the baby. She is the only one who does wear reasonable covering attire and has a golden crown on her head. As soon as I look in her direction, her head goes up and a puzzled look appears on her face.

She stands up and starts walking in my direction. Her white dress she holds in her hands. That is also the moment Walmoet notices our presence. He pushes off the woman on his lap and looks at me with the same dirty grin as last time.

'There was no other way, I knew it. You're alive,' Nalu says smiling as soon as she stands in front of us. I take a small bow and send her a smile.

'Don't ask me how,' I reply. Nalu hates gaze slides from me to Novak and Elenor. Both of them take a bow.

'Good to see you Novak,' she says smiling.

'Once upon a time'.

'Who are you?' Nalu asks referring to Elenor. The blonde young lady stands there a little uncomfortably.

'Elenor Monte highness,' she answers herself.

'Welcome Elenor. You have planned your arrival well. The king has just received a new son.' The look in Nalu's eyes tells something different from her excited words. It is not her child, that is immediately clear to me. Her cheerful tone and becoming are a cover for the pain her eyes carry. Elenor is just about to congratulate Nalu, but I am ahead of her.

'How nice for the mother and the king. May the gods bless the child,' I reply. Nalu smiles at my becoming and gives a small nod.

'Celeste. I have to disappoint you, we have already employed another chambermaid. We do still have room in the kitchen.' Walmoet's words reverberate through the high room. The laughter of the elves echoing behind them. I feel Elenor's gaze linger in my side.