Chapter 34 Chapter 34

Chapter 34 Chapter 34


The great Hall of House Keltos gleamed with blue-tinged light from crystal lamps suspended from the vaulted ceiling. Adorning the dark wood walls was a family painting flanked by tapistries. At the center of the room stood Quasros Dolos Keltos, recently returned from Moondale, his traveling cloak still draped over his shoulders. Though centuries old, he maintained the straight-backed posture and clear eyes of an elf in his prime, his silver-streaked black hair elaborately braided in the style that denoted his status as former head of the house.

"Summon my son," he instructed a servant, his voice carrying the heavy distinctive musical quality of the dark elves. The servant bowed and departed without a word, leaving Quasros to study the room with quiet satisfaction.

He continued what his ancestors built. The through careful cultivation of relationships, strategic employments, and occasional well-placed threats kept the family strong. House Keltos had flourished under his leadership, and now his son was poised to elevate it further. The rumors that had reached him in Moondale, the city at the enterence to the subterranian cities, had been most intriguing.

Nyxios entered the Hall with his usual graceful stride. His son had grown into his power beautifully confident without arrogance, intelligent without coldness, and possessing that rare quality that made others want to please him.

"Father," Nyxios greeted, clasping Quasros's forearm, "Your journey was successful?"

"Most productive," Quasros confirmed, his eyes crinkling with genuine warmth. "But I find myself more interested in what has occurred here in my absence."

He released his son's arm and moved to a carved table where a decanter of amber liquid awaited. He poured two glasses, offering one to Nyxios. "I hear you've acquired someone quite precious."

A smile touched Nyxios's lips as he accepted the glass. "News travels quickly."

"When it concerns humans in Limdrion? Like wildfire. Tell me about her." Quasros whispered as took a sip of his drink, savoring the burn.

Nyxios swirled the liquid in his glass, a joy of pride brightening his features. "Her name is Patrina Warden. A scholar from the Collegiate Alliance of Vyhelm. She is fluent in the elven dialects and was studying elven cultures at the Sylvanae Archive before attempting to reach the Greenways."

"Highly educated, then." Quasros nodded appreciatively. "And how did this scholarly human come into your hands?"

"I found her drowning in a canal. She had fallen through rotted boardwalk. I learned later she’d been disguising herself as a half-high elf and staying in the city. She’d escaped some dwarven merchants who intended to sell her to House Maelis." Nyxios replied, his voice taking on a protective edge that Quasros found most interesting.

"Ah, so you thwarted Mavros." Quasros chuckled, genuine amusement lighting his eyes. "How wonderful. He must be beside himself."

"His loss is my gain." Nyxios sipped his drink, then added more softly, "She's remarkable, Father. Brilliant, defiant, passionate. Nothing like the simpering nobles' daughters who usually seek my attention."

Nyxios leaned forward, “There’s one more thing, father. Patrina has light magic.”

“You’re fooling me!”

“No, it is true! She healed me herself in the marshlands. I don’t know why she chooses to hide such a gift.”

“How rare! This will be a blessing to our House. Your children will also receive that gift.”

“I didn’t mind even if she has no magic, father.”

Quasros studied his son over the rim of his glass. "And have you consummated this relationship? Has she fully yielded?"

A flicker of frustration crossed Nyxios's face. "Not yet. Her collar remains mid-purple. She resists even as she yearns. It's fascinating to watch the struggle within her."

He set down his glass, moving to place a hand on his son's shoulder. "They always surrender in the end. It is their nature, just as it is ours to pursue. Don't be discouraged. Their submission, when it finally comes, is all the sweeter in the end."

"I'm not discouraged," Nyxios assured him. "Just impatient. I want to show her my love. Everything I can give. Knowledge, power, pleasure beyond what her human mind has imagined."

"Then perhaps what you need is another public declaration of your intentions." Quasros smiled, a plan already forming in his mind. "A gathering. A ball to introduce your companion to Limdrion society. Let her see how envied she is, how fortunate."

Nyxios considered this, his purple eyes brightening with interest. "A demonstration of her status. Not as a pet, but as an equal."

"Precisely. The companions who are most resistant often need to understand their position from all angles. Show her that she is not a possession, but an elevated member of this household. She is a reflection of your status and regard. It would serve to silence any lingering hopes Mavros might harbor about claiming her for himself."

"A ball, then," Nyxios agreed. "In three days' time."

"Perfect. Now, I should like to meet this remarkable human who has so captivated my son." Quasros glanced toward the door. "Is she presentable?"

"Of course." Nyxios raised a hand, summoning a servant with the slightest gesture. "Bring Patrina to the Hall immediately."

As they waited, Quasros observed the subtle changes in his son's posture as he straightened slightly, and held his eyes fixed on the door with anticipation. This human had indeed made an impression. Quasros felt a surge of curiosity. What sort of woman could inspire such fascination in Nyxios, who had always approached relationships with calculated detachment?

The door opened several minutes later to reveal Patrina Warden. She entered with her chin lifted in subtle defiance, though her steps were measured and careful. She wore a gown of deep purple silk that left her shoulders bare, the fabric clinging to her form before flowing to the floor. The collar at her throat, Nyxios's mark of claiming, glowed with a rich purple but was not quite light enough to indicate full surrender.

Quasros observed her with the practiced eye of one who had evaluated many companions over the centuries. She was lovely in the ephemeral way of humans, her skin flushed with life, her brown hair falling in waves past her shoulders. But it was the intelligence in her eyes that truly distinguished her: a sharp, assessing gaze that took in the room and its occupants without flinching.

"Patrina," Nyxios extended his hand to her, his voice softening in a way that Quasros found most revealing. "Come meet my father."

She approached with not as graceful way that belied her human origins, but placed her hand in Nyxios's with only the slight hesitation. The collar at her throat pulsed briefly at the contact, and Quasros noted how her breath caught almost imperceptibly.

"Father, this is Patrina Warden, of the Collegiate Alliance of Vyhelm. Patrina, this is Quasros Dolos Keltos, Head of House Keltos."

"A pleasure to meet you, sir," Patrina said, her voice steadier than Quasros had expected. She attempted a curtsy that was admirable in its execution, if not perfect in form.

"The pleasure is mine, Patrina Warden." Quasros stepped forward, taking her free hand and raising it to his lips in the traditional greeting of respect. "I've heard much about you in the short time since my return. It seems you've made quite an impression on my son."

A flush colored her cheeks, but her gaze remained direct. "Your son has been... most attentive."

Quasros smiled at the careful choice of words. "I'm sure he has. Nyxios has always appreciated rare treasures." He released her hand, his eyes moving to the collar at her throat. "That shade of purple suits you. Though I suspect it will brighten in time."

Patrina's hand rose unconsciously to touch the collar, her expression flickering between embarrassment and something more complex. "Your son seems very confident of that."

"With good reason," Quasros replied gently. "The bond between companion and elf is inevitable once established. Fighting it only delays the joy of surrender." He circled her slowly, "You will take good care of my son, won't you, Patrina? He is my greatest achievement, and I entrust him to very few."

The question caught her off guard. Her eyes darted to Nyxios, who watched the exchange with barely concealed satisfaction. "I...I am not here by choice, sir."

"Aren't you?" Quasros's smile was knowing. "The collar suggests otherwise. It responds to truth, not pretense." He reached out to touch a strand of her hair, noting how she tensed but did not pull away. "Your mind may still resist, but your heart already knows where you belong."

Nyxios moved to Patrina's side, his hand settling possessively at the small of her back. The gesture was both protective and claiming, and Quasros approved of the balance his son had struck.

"We'll be hosting a ball in three days' time," Nyxios told her, his voice low and intimate. "To introduce you properly to Limdrion society."

Patrina's eyes widened slightly. "A ball? But I'm not—"

"You are exactly what you need to be," Quasros interrupted gently. "The companion of Nyxios Dolos Keltos, heir to one of Limdrion's most powerful houses. Nothing more is required. She will be magnificent, my son. I'll summon the house tailor today to craft a gown worthy of her."

Patrina opened her mouth as if to protest, then closed it again, something in Quasros's expression giving her pause. Nyxios's fingers traced small circles against her back, and Quasros noted how she leaned almost imperceptibly into the touch.

"Welcome to House Keltos, Patrina Warden," Quasros said, raising his glass in salute. "May you find, as all companions eventually do, that what begins as captivity becomes the greatest freedom you’ll ever know."