Heart Over Sword-Chapter 257: Lyvarian Court (1)

After Evanna’s little speech, the guards lowered their weapons, and Edric guided them through the tunnels without saying so much as a word, merely gesturing with a sweep of his arm to follow them. Only moments later did Arawn explain the importance of Edric’s role. He was the right-hand man of Queen Iolena, the true ruler of Lyvaria.

Her interest was piqued by the idea that a Queen’s rule was higher than the King’s. Though she was intrigued, that was all the interest she would show in the matter. Too much had happened for Evanna to fixate on people that may or may not have known about her existence.

She did not know these rulers, and she was not about to smile and play happy families. She was far too gone for that, especially after years of attempting to keep the peace within her own complex life. The king’s illegitimate child, living under the same roof as his wife and legitimate children.

Any thoughts about her family faded away as the tunnels grew luminous and the gates of the palace from inside the mountain revealed a sight so breathtaking; Evanna paused for a moment taking in the grandeur, the magic emitting from the ice that kept them warm and the visuals of light and a... a dragon?!

Evanna watched a shadow of a dragon flying along the walls of the ice. Her heart raced from seeing it, and memories of Ger’s last moments flashed through her mind. She looked away, pinching her lips together and continued after the Lyvarians.

Nobody spoke, but Evanna could tell from the tense silence that the others in her group were thinking about the same thing. Grief was still heavy on their shoulders, but they had to move on. Ger would want that. Evanna’s mother, Loraven, was like a second mother to him, and he went on this quest purely to help her and, of course, to make sure Evanna remained out of mischief.

A hand squeezed at Evanna’s gently, pulling her out of her sorrowful thoughts, and she squeezed back, not needing to look at her handsome prince to know Arawn was comforting her. They both wore the masks of royalty, though Arawn’s was more disinterested, and Evanna was impassive and stoic while she worked out what to say once they met the King and Queen.

Edric sent the guards away once they stopped before two mighty doors met the tall height of the icy ceiling above. A few remained, but Evanna’s gaze remained ahead, waiting for those doors to open. Were they meeting the king and queen immediately?

"Remove your weapons," Edric ordered sternly, his gaze roaming to Axel’s axes and to the rest of them.

Evanna didn’t bat an eyelash as his gaze landed on hers, and she started to remove her scabbards at the back, holding her swords and handing them to the nearest guard.

"*Lyvarian steel,*" the guard muttered, glancing at Edric, who narrowed his eyes.

Evanna did not need to explain herself to anyone about her swords. The guard sucked in a breath after unsheathing them.

"*You can admire them more when they’re sticking through your stomach,*" Evanna mused, glancing at the guard as she handed her bow and arrows to the guard behind him. She knew in her gut she needed to be harsh, almost wicked, though it wasn’t hard at the moment with her darkening mood.

He took the hint and sheathed them again, glancing at Edric with widened eyes. Evanna did not bother reading into the look; she was starting to feel impatient. She hoped the king and queen would be willing to give the gem to their ill daughter, though she wasn’t fooled into thinking they would be out of the goodness of their hearts. Where had they been these last years?

No, Evanna knew better than to rely on the semblance of family with the Lyvarian king and queen.

"*All your weapons,*" Edric droned, sounding bored as he looked at Evanna.

The princess tilted her head. "Whatever do you mean?"

"*Check her. I do not trust her.*" Edric commanded. The guards stepped towards her, alerting Axel and Ronan that something was adrift, but it was Arawn who stepped between them, halting them from doing anything foolish whilst shaking his head slightly at Evanna.

Facing Evanna, his hands slid under her cloak, skimming her waist until his hand gripped the dagger behind her back. He nonchalantly dropped it to the side, uncaring if someone caught it or stabbed themselves on the sharp point. Lowering down, the prince dipped his hands into her boots one by one whilst keeping his eyes on her.

Evanna felt a slight flush colouring her cheeks at seeing the elven prince kneeling before her and gazing at her like they were the only ones in the enchanted hallway. If they were, Evanna would react in a completely different way. Instead, she controlled her breathing and refrained from closing her legs to alleviate the sudden ache between them. How she could still feel anything after Ger, she did not know.

But it did reveal, with a pang of sadness, that with time her heart would heal and move on, as would they all. Ger’s death would never be forgotten, nor his life that they all cherished filled with radiant memories.

Arawn removed the daggers from her boots, dropping them on the side, his gaze still holding hers. He slowly rose to stand, his hands brushing along her calves before releasing her. They should have kept their contact to a minimum, especially now they were in the royal courts.

Something told Evanna a caress, a simple touch like that was not scorned upon like that at Dunhurst. But it would also reveal the close relationship between Prince Arawn of the Flori and Princess Evanna of Dunhurst. It might indicate there was a strengthening alliance between the two kingdoms, though neither had written to their fathers. fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓

"Hmmm, proceed," Edric said, pushing through the double doors with a loud slam that would cause any to look in their direction at the sudden loud noise.

Arawn remained close by Evanna’s side. She couldn’t help but notice everybody was tense. Well, besides their little night fae friend. Fiza continued to walk into the grand hall like she was entering an inn, uncaring, hips swaying, eyes twinkling in amusement.

Arawn leaned closer to Evanna’s ear, whispering gently. "*You do not always need to rely on the sword. Remember, though, you should not overexert yourself after using your powers to such a degree.*"

Evanna nodded once, her eyes moving from the back of Edric’s long black hair and to the thrones at the far end. The hall was beautiful, the views of the clouds and mountains on either side, the ground a light blue of ice and lights glimmering like that of small stars on the floor. It was all very mystical and enchanting.

But Evanna now was not seduced by the luxuries and beauty of a place so cold. Their people intentionally led the group towards the lake where a dragon had been resting. One of their own died because of this, and she was not feeling quite so friendly right now. Though she kept her grief from her face and shoulders, she barely contained the simmering rage.

Evanna chided herself for letting her emotions control her. She was a princess, and she needed to act like one to get what she wanted. They needed a win after so many losses.

The princess’s gaze was ensnared the moment she saw the two figures standing from their thrones. They were both so ethereal, captivatingly so, but that beauty was hard, deadly, gazes sharp. Evanna felt naked before them as their gazes raked over her the most, judging and full of intrigue.

Her shoulders straightened even more, and she tilted her chin slightly higher. Evanna could not deny she was doing the same. Though, she was still trying to comprehend the beauty of the king. He was like sunlight or a glowing star. Long, straight golden locks fell to his waist, and white robes sat comfortably over a chiselled chest revealed through a window of his gaping shirt. Golden ink crawled up the side of his chest and his face.

But what made him stand out the most were the iridescent wings behind his back. Large and beautiful, that draped over to the bottom of his calves, almost dragging on the floor. That was not what made her heart race with nervous energy.

The king had the greenest eyes she’d ever seen. They were radiant and almost forest-like, two emerald jewels that glimmered and pierced those that looked upon him. They were like her own.

She’d never met another with the same colour. Now she knew why. She hadn’t ventured far enough in the world. Even if she had not met this fairy king, she might have seen another with similar features. Though, she did not believe any fae could look like him.

Evanna forced herself to look away. The king had trapped her in his stare, one almost glaring yet full of curiosity. Now, she looked upon the queen, who seemed almost as cold or colder than that of the king.

Queen Iolena was stunning, and Evanna could already see her mother’s resemblance to the queen. Where Loraven was full of life, chirpy, and happy even in the palace with her lover’s wife and family, Queen Iolena’s radiance was with the sharp, twisted edge of a blade that might cut you down at any second. One was light, and the other was much darker.

Even looks could not keep that away. A chill tingled at her spine, and Evanna didn’t know if this was her reaction to meeting such deadly grandparents or if it was her sixth sense telling her she was in danger. Possibly both.

"Introducing Prince Arawn of the Florian kingdom, Princess Evanna Goodrich of Dunhurst and the accompanying party," Edric announced from the side of them.

The group stopped and simultaneously made their bows. Evanna followed suit, being the last to respond, though she knew better. But she could feel the king and queen’s icy stares prickling at her face.

It was almost suffocating. Their looks, the tense atmosphere, the quiet that swooped over the hall with the impending sense that blood would be spilt. Was this what it was like for her mother to grow up in the palace?

No wonder Loraven laughed at her sister’s sick attempts to upset her. It seemed like child’s play compared to what this court felt like.

"Evanna... Goodrich." Ice coursed through Evanna’s veins as her heart pounded against her chest, adrenaline pumping, ready for an attack. Biting her tongue, she looked up at the approaching footsteps and the darkening radiance of her grandmother. The Queen of Lyvaria.

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