The room was quiet. The only sound was Elora's heavy breathing.
She held the clay cup Eon had given her. It was empty now. The magic water was gone, but the cool feeling stayed in her throat.
For a moment, she had forgotten who he was. She had forgotten that he was an elf, a slave, a kidnapper. She had only seen a man who gave water to a thirsty girl.
But then the fear came back. It rushed into her mind like cold wind.
She remembered her brothers. Alaric and Darius. They were powerful. They were marquesses. They owned armies, lands, and people. No one touched what belonged to them. And she belonged to them.
She stood up. Her legs were still shaking, but she forced them to be straight. She had to be strong. She was a Denares.
"You made a mistake," Elora said. Her voice trembled, but she made it loud. "A big mistake."
Eon stood near the door. He did not look scared. He looked bored.
Even after all thisa lecture she still defending her house. It was pitiful at this point. It resemble a example of how much a person can be brainwashed. He crossed his arms over his chest. His black hair fell over his eyes, but she could see the calm look in them.
"Did I?" he asked softly, curiosity in his voice.
"Yes!" Elora shouted. She threw the clay cup on the floor. It did not break, but it made a loud thud. "My brothers… Alaric and Darius… they will come for me. They will bring the whole army. They will burn this dirty house to the ground. They will kill you, and they will kill all your little elf friends." she said all this with a new-found vigor.
She waited for him to flinch. She waited for him to look terrified, to beg for mercy, to run away. That was what people did when they heard the name Denares.
But Eon did not move. He did not blink.
Instead, he looked at her with something strange in his eyes. It was not fear. It was not anger.
It was pity.
"Burn the house?" Eon repeated. He let out a short, dry laugh. "Elora, look around you."
He walked to the window. He pointed outside.
"This house is already dead. Dont you see? Your brothers killed it a long time ago."
Elora frowned. "Liar. This is the Count's house. My brothers just… lent him money."
Eon turned around. His face was hard now. The pity was gone, replaced by a cold stare piercing through her.
"Lent money?" He took a step closer. Elora backed away until she hit the wall. "Is that what they told you in your pretty tower? That they are some kind of kind bankers? That they help people?"
He shook his head. Then he cracked a mockin smile.
"Your brother Alaric is a snake, did you know that? He gives money with one hand and holds a knife in the other. He writes contracts that no one can pay back. He traps families. He waits until they are weak, until they have sold their furniture, their land, their dignity. And then he takes everything as he had planned from the start."
Elora covered her ears. "Stop it! Alaric is smart! He is a businessman!" her shout was reaching even the basement.
"And Darius?" Eon asked. His voice dropped lower. It sounded dangerous now. "Is he a businessman too?"
Elora froze. She slowly lowered her hands.
"Darius is… strong," she whispered. "He protects me."
"He protects you," Eon agreed. "He keeps you in a cage so no one can touch his favorite doll. But what does he do to women who are not his sister?"
Elora looked away. She remembered the rumors about them, The maids who cried in the hallways. The gardener's boy who disappeared because he smiled at her. The blood on Darius's boots that he said was from 'hunting.'
She remembers everything.
"He is a monster, Elora," Eon said. The words hung in the air like heavy smoke. "A hungry wolf. Do you know why I brought you here?"
"Why else. To… to get money from my brothers," she guessed.
"No. I don't want your dirty gold."
Before he could answer, The door opened behind Eon. Elora jumped.
A woman walked in. It was Verra. She was carrying a tray with bread and cheese.
Elora remembered her. She was also with Eon, when he attacked her guards. She also killed some of her guards, who were specially handpicked by her brothers. She were wearing just simple clothes back then.
But now?
Now Verra wore leather armor. She had a sword on her hip. Her head was high. She looked like a warrior.
Verra placed the tray on the small table. She looked at Elora, not with hate, but with sadness.
"He brought you here," Verra said, her voice soft and melodious, "because your brothers stole our mistress."
Elora blinked. "Mistress? You mean… the Countess? Teressa?"
"Yes," Eon said. "Countess Teressa. Her husband died four days ago. Her son is sick in bed. She was grieving. She was alone. And what did your brave brothers do?" Eon stepped closer again. His eyes burned with a blue light.
"They came here today. They kicked open the gates. They did not come to comfort a widow. They came to drag her out of her own home, giving some vague explanation of how the count have failed to pay him back before passing away. Darius… he looked at her like she was a piece of meat. He took her by forcing her into his carriage. They took her for making her pay with her body."
Elora felt her stomach twist. She felt sick.
She knew that look. She had seen Darius look at new maids that way. She had seen him look at village girls that way.
"No…" Elora whispered. "Alaric wouldn't let him. Alaric follows the rules."
"Alaric wouldn't let him? HAHA. your joke goes to far Elora. Are we talking about the same Alaric?" Eon said coldly. "Ohhh. he was with him for sure. But don't forget he was the one who first showed the contract saying about some 60% interest or something. He let Darius take her because she couldn't pay the fake debt. They kidnapped a widow, Elora. They took her to your house. To your home. Do you know what Darius plans to do to her tonight?" Eon's voice was dark, demanding answers.
Elora squeezed her eyes shut. She didn't want to imagine it. But the pictures came anyway. Darius's rough hands. His cruel laugh. The way he broke things that were beautiful.
"That is why you are here," Eon said. "I did not take you to hurt you. I took you to trade. Your life for hers. A sister for a mother."
Elora slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor.
Everything she knew was breaking.
Her whole life, she thought her brothers were the heroes. They told her the world outside was dark and evil. They told her elves were dangerous savages. They told her everyone wanted to hurt her, and only 'they' could keep her safe.
But the man standing in front of her… this 'savage' elf… he had given her water. He had given her a bed. He hadn't touched her.
And her brothers? They had kidnapped a helpless woman? They were the ones destroying families?
She looked up at Eon.
He wasn't looking at her anymore. He was checking the leather straps on his arm. He was preparing for a fight.
He wasn't a monster.
He was a slave who broke his chains. He was a man fighting to save someone who wasn't even his family. He was fighting against two powerful Marquesses to save one human woman.
A thought bloomed in Elora's mind. It was a thought from her secret books. The books she hid under her mattress.
The Knight.
In the stories, the Knight was not always a prince in shining gold armor. Sometimes, the Knight was a stranger. Sometimes he was an outcast. But he always fought the Dragons to save the Damsel.
Her brothers… Alaric and Darius… they seemed like the Dragons in this case.
They sat on their pile of gold, breathing fire and hurting people.
And Eon?
He was the Knight.
He was going out there to fight the Dragons.
Suddenly, the fear in Elora's chest changed. It wasn't icy anymore. It became hot. A flush rose up her neck and warmed her cheeks.
She looked at him, really looked at him properly this time.
He was tall. His black hair was messy but in a nice way. His face was sharp and handsome, not soft and puffy like the noble boys her brothers introduced her to. He had broad shoulders. When he moved, he moved like a cat, silent but deadly.
He had magic far superior to anything she had ever seen. She saw him make the water without any chanting. She saw him create the clay water glass as if it was nothing for him.
He was powerful. But he used his power to help?
"Eon," Verra said, breaking the silence. "The sun is setting. They will be here soon."
Eon nodded. He turned to the door.
"Wait," Elora said, trying to stop him.
Eon stopped. He looked back at her over his shoulder.
Elora felt strange with him looking at her like that. She was a hostage. She should hate him. She should want her brothers to come and kill him.
But the thought of Eon dying… the thought of Darius's sword cutting him down… it made her heart hurt.
"My brothers…" Elora started, her voice quiet. "They are strong. Darius is fast with a sword. And Alaric… Alaric brings mages. He can pay for expensive mages."
She looked into Eon's eyes.
"Don't die," she whispered.
Eon stared at her for a long second. Then, the corner of his mouth lifted. It wasn't a mock. It was a small, real smile.
"I don't plan to," Eon said.
He opened the door. Golden sunlight from the hallway poured into the room, lighting him up. For a second, he really did look like a hero from a painting.
"Verra, stay with her," Eon ordered. "If they breach the gate… you know what to do."
Verra nodded. "I will protect her."
Eon left. The door closed with a click. The lock turned.
Elora was a prisoner again.
But this time, it felt different.
She walked to the window. She grabbed the stone bars Eon had made. They were cool to the touch.
She looked down at the courtyard. She saw elves running. They were carrying bows and swords. They were preparing for war.
She saw Eon walking out into the open. He looked so small compared to the big stone walls. But he walked with his head high.
Her heart started to beat fast. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
It wasn't panic. It was excitement.
She had spent her whole life in a golden cage, bored and safe. She wanted adventure. She wanted romance. She wanted to feel something real.
Now, she was in the middle of it.
And the man at the center of the storm… the man who had stolen her… was the most interesting thing she had ever seen.
"He is going to fight them," Elora whispered to the empty room. "He is going to fight them for her. For Teressa."
A tiny spike of jealousy pricked her heart. Why? Why did she care? She didn't even know him.
Because, a voice inside her head whispered, 'no one has ever fought for you like that. Your brothers keep you, but they don't fight for you. They just own you.'
She pressed her forehead against the stone bars.
"Win," she breathed. "Please, win."
Down below, she saw the torches. A river of fire was coming down the road. The Denares army.
The ground shook as hundreds of horses approached.
Elora watched as Eon stood alone in the gate. He took a small bottle from his pocket and drank it.
Then, the riders arrived.
She saw Darius. Even from this distance, she could see his red face. He looked ugly to her now. He looked like a beast.
And she saw Alaric. The Cold, unmoving Alaric.
And then she saw the woman tied to the horse. Teressa.
Elora gasped. It was true. Everything Eon said was true. Teressa looked broken. Her dress was ripped. Her head hung low.
Elora's hands gripped the bars so tight her knuckles turned white.
Monster, she thought, looking at Darius. 'So You really are a monster.'
She looked back at Eon. He stood firm. He didn't move an inch.
Suddenly, Eon raised his hand. He pointed up.
He pointed right at her window.
Elora froze.
The door behind her opened again. It was Elsa, the silver-haired elf girl.
"Come," Elsa said. "He wants you on the balcony."
Elora didn't fight. She didn't scream. She walked to Elsa.
She was going to be the bargaining chip. She knew that.
But as she walked out onto the balcony, into the cold night air, she didn't feel like a victim. She looked down at Eon's back.
She stood tall.
She would play her part in his story.
Author Note: The Stockholm Syndrome is kicking in! Or is it just that Elora is finally seeing the truth about her family? Eon is collecting hearts faster than he collects Skill Points!
Also, did you notice the description of Verra? "She looked like a warrior." The potions are working wonders. The elf army is rising!
Next chapter: The Clash! Negotiation or War?
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