“I’m pleased to hear Officer Reast has ties to the Winter Court as well. The wardens and soldiers we appoint to govern and guard the most northern, eastern, and western settlements will largely be political appointments going forward. Fae who have ties to the nearest court, whether through distant ancestral relations or through marriage,” I say, and I can’t help but recall Amelia’s question about whether we’ve ever considered making a peace treaty with human and orc territories. I’d claimed it wouldn’t be possible because the four fae courts would likely never come to an agreement, but perhaps it might work. In time. If we keep positioning specific wardens and soldiers in strategic locations, a new kind of diplomacy might come into existence. At least among the fae. I have my doubts that realm-wide peace that involves the cooperation of numerous human and orc territories could ever be achieved.
“You said you had several orders for me, General,” the commander says with an expectant look.
“Ah, yes, I do.” I issue the remaining orders, most of which involve tomorrow’s departure from Glenville and our first day of travel as we make our way south.
Once my business with Commander Klemat is complete, I head to the other side of the camp where the carriages are kept. The carriages have been out of use for some time, though we always travel with them in case any fae royals or lords visit and prefer to travel in luxury. Most of the royals and lords who visit, however, typically prefer to walk alongside the regular soldiers or help patrol the skies with the other highborn fae.
The carriage master approaches when he notices I’m inspecting the largest conveyance in the collection. There’s a wary gleam in the elderly male’s eyes, and I can’t say I blame him. During the three hundred plus years that I’ve been the general of the Summer Court army, this is the first time I’ve ever displayed any interest in the carriages.
“Good evening, General Dalgaard.” He removes his hat and stands tall, though he’s still about two heads shorter than me. “May I be of some assistance to you, sir?”
I study the male for a moment, wondering if his designing magic is as grand and opulent as I’ve heard. It’s said he can transform the plainest room, or the interior of a carriage, into the most lavish of accommodations. If Amelia is to spend four days on the road as the army marches south to Sorsston, I want her to travel in comfort and luxury.
“Yes, Master Nathanns,” I finally say, having finally remembered the male’s name, “I require an opulent carriage for my new war prize.”
His eyes flare ever so slightly, though he’s quick to don a neutral expression only a second later. No doubt he’s shocked that I’ve taken a war prize for the first time in history.
“Well, you have your eye on the nicest carriage in the collection, General, but I will be happy to work my magic until the carriage meets your specifications. What do you have in mind?”
“A comfortable sleeping area with lots of pillows and blankets,” I say, “as well as larger windows on each side. Don’t worry about warding them. I’ll do that myself once your work is finished.”
“A comfortable sleeping area,” he repeats with a nod. “Larger windows on each side. Consider it done. What else?”
“The interior should include a small garden filled with fresh blooming Summer Court flowers and multiple errgunna butterflies. I would also like a bathing area installed in a corner, complete with fragrant, running water. A well-stocked eating area too, filled with ussha-blessed fruits and vegetables, a variety of fresh bread and cheese, and a tray of candies that replenishes itself whenever a piece is taken.” I almost wonder if I’m making too many demands, particularly when it comes to the running water and the replenishable candy tray, but Master Nathanns doesn’t bat an eye, so I continue. “Please also include a closet filled with fashionable dresses fit for a queen, matching slippers, fine jewelry, silk undergarments, and proper sleeping attire.”
“Again, consider it done, General. Anything else?” Despite the many demands I’ve made of him, his expression is serene, and I start to think perhaps he’s eager to get started. It’s said that fae with designing and building magic are always excited to exercise their skills and meet a challenge.
“I think that should cover it, but please feel free to make any additions that you think would make the carriage more pleasant for a human female.”
“What about books?” he says, surprising me. “Does your war prize enjoy reading? If so, she might enjoy a selection of reading material to pass the time. Or, if she isn’t literate, asmany humans aren’t, she might enjoy embroidery and sewing materials, or perhaps card and dice games. If you could tell me more about her interests, that will help guide me in my creation.”
Her interests? For a few seconds, all I can do is stare dumbly at Master Nathanns. I’m ashamed to admit that I don’t know whether Amelia can read, nor do I know if she enjoys cards or dice games or sewing.
Gods, I really don’t know much about her at all. Only that I’m drawn to her and I want nothing more than to spend time with her. If it weren’t for my responsibilities leading the Summer Court army, I would be at her side right fucking now.
I clear my throat. “Perhaps a small selection of books and the other items you mentioned. I believe she will appreciate having choices.”
“Of course. Choices. An excellent idea. I will make it so.” His eyes sparkle with delight, and I wonder how long it’s been since he’s used his skills. I’m aware that some of the soldiers pay him to make their tents more comfortable, but I can’t recall the last time his skills were called upon to upgrade one of the carriages.
“Thank you. You will be well-compensated for your work, Master Nathanns.” I incline my head slightly in a gesture of farewell, then turn and face the bustling expanse of tents.
“You are too kind, General,” the carriage master says just before I start in the direction of my own tent.
Too kind. I almost laugh at his choice of words. I don’t believe anyone has called me ‘kind’ or anything similar in hundreds of years, if ever. I intend to treat Amelia with kindness, but no one else has ever called up my compassionate side before.
I’m aware it could be argued that there’s no kindness or compassion in the act of keeping a war prize.
Fucking fires. Does the little human view me as a beast?
My spirits plummet at the thought, but I’m still determined to keep her. Even if I discover she’s not my fated mate, I don’t believe I’ll be able to part with her. The level of possessiveness I harbor for her is simply too strong.
As I navigate the camp, I notice many soldiers casting questioning looks my way. My keen ears also pick up the phrase ‘human war prize’ being whispered again and again.
Well. It would seem the camp is already humming with the news of Amelia’s presence in my tent.
A female’s presence in my tent wouldn’t be so unusual, as I’ve taken orc and human females to my tent many times under the guise of violating them, only to glamour them and send them awayentirely unharmeda few hours later—the same tactic Prince Lucas once used to make the soldiers believe he was merciless and fierce and as dark as an Unseelie king. But a war prize? I’ve never taken a war prize before. Not until now. Not until I captured Amelia. I suppose I can’t blame the soldiers for their shocked whispers.
When I arrive at my tent, I find one of the servants standing outside holding a small bag. I take the bag from his hand and peek inside. It’s filled with female clothing, small packets of medicinal herbs, a hairbrush, ribbons, and a small velvet pouch that contains a variety of gemstones. At the very bottom, I discover a small leather casing that’s filled with sheets of paper containing intricate charcoal drawings, mostly likenesses of people and animals. How very interesting. Did Amelia draw these?
