Everyone turned toward Aequellis—everyone except Leonie, who lowered her head, trying to push past her sudden wave of sickness. She had often felt the same way in the baron's castle: helplessness and oppression among those in positions of power. Just as then, her fate was being decided over her head, and she was utterly defenseless against them.
But was she really?
She lifted her head, and her gaze met Dorian's. He was still watching her, concern shadowing his expression. He was here. The blond elf who had rescued her from the humans' clutches and had helped her through every hardship since. The one who had called her his partner—and who was now holding her hand before the entire Council. She did not know how certain she could be that all this was not an act, but of one thing she was absolutely sure: Dorian would not allow harm to come to her. For once, she was not alone, as she always had been before.
She cleared her throat and gently pulled her hand from Dorian's. He let her go as well.
"Excuse me—"
Every head turned toward her. Her stomach dropped deep with nerves, her voice trembling involuntarily as she wrung her hands.
"I… I don't wish to interrupt your deliberation, but you can speak to me as well. I'm here."
Though she did not intend it as impertinence, Aeson snorted as he tried to stifle his amusement, while Ardoryell laughed out loud.
"How true!" he said, leaning back. "Perhaps the charming lady can tell us something that will help decide her fate."
Leonie swallowed hard. Among Dorian and his companions, she had forgotten all too quickly what it truly felt like to be subordinate.
"I don't know much about the history known to the elves," she began in a thin voice, "but I do know that humans committed terrible acts against your people—"
"You know nothing!" Galeth, the eldest elf, cut in angrily. "I was there! Human cruelty knows no bounds! They used our own magic against us, stolen from the book they took from us."
The old elf looked at her with such hatred it was as if she herself had done these things.
"They slaughtered nearly an entire generation of elven children. Did you know that? That is the kind of family your humans are—the ones you grew up among. Don't expect—"
"Galeth," Dorian raised his voice before the old man could say something that would shatter Leonie's soul completely. He did not know that it was already broken.
A generation of children? What horror.
"I… I'm sorry," Leonie squeaked, fighting back tears. "But they are not my family. It's true, I knew only humans, but… I was a captive. I didn't know elves still existed, and I was taught falsehoods all my life."
She continued a little louder.
"I was mistreated my entire life." She bit her lower lip anxiously. She had made Dorian promise not to tell the Council anything about her past—and now she was the one beginning to reveal it.
"They took away my right to choose. I never decided my own fate. The man I trusted as a father when I was a child exploited me and hurt me. If Dorian hadn't taken me away, I might have suffered there for the rest of my life."
She did not dare look at the man she spoke of.
"I have every reason to hate them as well. And even if I didn't…" She looked down at her trembling hands.
"I am a good person. Or—an elf," she said softly. And though when others claimed the opposite she often believed them, deep down she knew they were wrong. She had never intentionally harmed anyone; she had always helped the sick and the helpless.
"This isn't only about what you are like—though of course we do not trust you," Aequellis turned toward her.
"It's about the fact that you cannot control your power. You could cause irreversible damage to the ancient tree. And the humans will believe we stole from them."
"But… but I'm not an object that can simply be taken," Leonie protested. The corners of her mouth drooped, but she refused to let herself be shaken again. They didn't have to accept her—but she would not let them speak to her the way the baron had.
For the first time, Denniel joined the discussion.
"If you're not an object, then perhaps you crawled into Dorian's bed of your own accord? How surprising that you offered yourself to the future elven king, playing the inno—"
A thunderous crash shook the hall. Denniel slammed into the wall. Before he could collapse to the floor, Dorian was already towering over him, pinning him by the throat with an iron grip. His face was only inches from the other's.
"You never know when to shut your mouth," Dorian said, his fury pressing down on everyone in the room.
"I should strangle you for slandering my partner so vilely."
The deadly silence deepened at his words, and the gazes of those present darted between Dorian, Denniel, and Leonie. The latter, losing her earlier courage, wished she could sink beneath the table.
"You're even more foolish than I thought," Denniel's face began to turn purple in Dorian's grip.
"You knew who Leonie was to me, and still you tried to drag her honor through the mud—"
"Dorian," Leonie tried to intervene. It would not help them if he killed someone because of her. And she did not want an innocent elf's death on her conscience.
"Please," she said, standing and walking over to them. She placed her hand on his arm.
"Stop. You'll kill him."
He did not look at her. Denniel had long been a thorn in Dorian's side. He would not have tolerated such an insult toward Leonie from anyone—but now murderous rage burned in him. And not least, this would serve as a perfect example, so they would all know where they stood.
"Look at me," Leonie said more firmly. At last, Dorian fixed his gaze on her. Slowly, he loosened his grip, then tossed the elf aside like a rag.
"That's enough for today," Dorian turned back to the Council and his father.
"I want to know what decision you've made regarding Leonie's staying."
"I know, my son, that you believe you've chosen well," Aequellis said heavily. "And of course, Leonie is entitled to protection because of her status… We will not harm her. But we must confine her for the safety of our people until we decide what to do with her."
Leonie instinctively took a step back. It could not be. She could not become a prisoner here as well.
"That's impossible," Dorian shook his head and glanced at Marcus, who rose at the same time as the others. In response, the guards in the hall drew their swords.
"Everyone, calm yourselves and let us think this through," Atarax tried to soothe them.
"Our regent's arguments are logical, but perhaps the Council members see it differently," he said, turning to the others.
"I believe Leonie is a forest elf. A magic surrounds her that I have not felt in a very long time. You all feel it, do you not?"
They nodded.
"And if she is, then she may be the key to our people's survival. Through her, we may also find the book. That was the goal of Dorian's mission, was it not? Even if events did not unfold exactly as we expected, he fulfilled his task."
Several nodded, and Filarion's father continued his defense.
"I do not believe it would serve us to imprison someone whose help we need. And according to our laws, the royal family is always entitled to protection—and this extends to their chosen ones as well."
He leaned back, his gaze drilling into Leonie's. Only slowly did it sink in what she had just heard. Protection for the king's chosen.
So that was why Dorian had insisted they were a couple. Was that the only reason? To grant her protection? It couldn't be—on human land he had said he could not stay away from her. He had to feel something.
"Let us finally vote. I support the lady," the handsome lord of the fire-summoners grinned. "Not least because such a pleasant presence would do this empty castle some good."
"Out of the question," Galeth crossed his arms.
"I say it's better to be cautious," the leader of the Floaters pressed his lips together. "I'm sorry," he added, turning toward Leonie.
"We've waited centuries for any opportunity. It would be a mistake not to try," said the Council's only female member, sending Leonie an encouraging smile.
"I agree. Let us teach her and help her heal the tree," Atarax added. Silence fell. A quick mental tally made it clear to everyone that even with the regent included, they were still at a stalemate.
"As I recall," Filarion spoke up, having observed the debate so far, "there is a law stating that every caste must be represented on the Council by someone chosen by their own kind."
Dorian's father drew his brows together suspiciously.
"You know this well," he nodded slowly.
"There is currently no forest elf on the Council," Filarion spread his arms. Galeth snorted.
"That's because there are no living—" He stopped short. A storm of emotions crossed his face before he burst out furiously.
"You cannot be serious! This is ridiculous! You cannot place her on the Council," he pointed accusingly at Leonie, who looked back and forth in confusion, trying to understand what they were saying.
"And yet the law is clear," Ardoryell laughed. "If there is even a single forest elf, their voice must be represented on the Council."
They all fell silent. The law was the law.
Dorian smiled in relief. They had won.
"Leonie, would you like to stay here? Freely?" he turned to her with a warm smile.
She shook her head in confusion. What kind of question was that? This was why she had endured this ordeal. This was what they had been fighting for hours.
"Answer me," Dorian urged gently.
"I would," she nodded uncertainly.
"Wonderful," Aeson clapped his hands as if nothing extraordinary had happened.
"Then we can finally eat!"
In the stunned silence, Dorian took Leonie's hand and gently urged her toward the exit.
"Good evening, Father," he inclined his head—and as quickly as possible, they left the hall.