He stepped out into the hallway and immediately ran into Marcus, who was pacing right outside the door. Dorian turned toward him with a raised eyebrow, still annoyed that Leonie had been put in danger while she was under his friend's watch.
"I shouldn't have let her use her magic. I only looked away for a moment." Guilt and worry were written all over Marcus's face. During their journey he had unwillingly grown fond of the girl who liked to throw punches, but more importantly, Dorian had clearly started to care about her as well. He hadn't seen him like this in three hundred years, so for the sake of Dorian's sanity, they had to find a way to keep Leonie alive.
"It's not your fault," Dorian said with a sigh, finally relenting a little. He laid a hand on Marcus's shoulder, and the other man met his gaze seriously.
"And I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean a word of it, it's just… this blight here… it's getting to me."
"I know what you mean. I'd happily burn this entire land to the ground. But don't make a habit of questioning me in front of the others, or I'll have to beat you to a pulp in front of them just to set an example." He clapped Marcus on the shoulder and walked past him toward the dining room. Marcus snorted with laughter.
"Oh, please. Last time on the training grounds I pinned you in no time."
They didn't have much time to argue over which of them could knock the other down faster, because their friends were already seated in silence around the makeshift table, clearly waiting for them. The two men took their places among them.
"It's about time you shared your plans with us, Dorian," Xav said in his gravelly voice, arms folded in front of him. "It seems you've rewritten your father's strategy, and I think we're all curious about your reasons."
Dorian's brows drew together as he looked at the elf who was nearly twice his age. He didn't appreciate the accusatory tone, but he understood their concern.
"From where I'm standing, I'd say we already know the reason," the light-brown-haired elf remarked, nodding toward the room Leonie was in. Xav snorted.
"Oh, come off it, Aeson. Dorian and a woman? As if our friend would break his word to his father over some girl."
There was a hint of cynicism in his voice, but Filarion cut in with his usual calm.
"She doesn't strike me as just 'some girl'."
At that, the youngest elf shot to his feet and plunged excitedly into the conversation, hands flying.
"Did you see what she did? I've never seen anything like it! She brought the trees to life! I didn't even want to believe Marcus when he said you'd found an elf among humans…"
"We all saw how she skewered that man, Nir," Aeson said, reining the over-eager youth back in. "And Xav is lucky she only punched him." He flashed Xav a grin; the older elf answered with a grimace.
"Keep it up and I'll punch you," Xav grumbled, and Aeson burst out laughing at the empty threat.
"There's no doubt in my mind that Leonie is forestborn," Filarion said, cutting through the bickering with his steady tone. In stark contrast, the other three erupted immediately, talking over one another.
"Utter nonsense," Xav snapped.
"The forestborn all disappeared. Impossible," Aeson added.
"It's been a thousand years!" Xav pressed on.
"And you just happened to find one among humans?" Nir chimed in.
Dorian grew tired of the noise and raised his hand. That alone was enough to silence them; all heads turned toward him.
"Filarion is right. We believe she's forestborn."
He told them about their first encounter in the woods, how Leonie had stopped them, the dinner at the baron's, how from the very beginning he'd felt his magic reacting strangely to her. He skipped the sensitive parts—what she'd told him about the baron's stomach-turning deeds, what state she'd been in when she was delivered to his room.
"The baron is cruel and tyrannical, and Leonie is one of our own. We couldn't just leave her there. And if we're right and she is forestborn, she might be the key to the book."
Marcus, who had been unusually quiet so far, finally joined in.
"You saw her. She has no idea what she is or what she can do."
"Or she's playing a very convincing role. We can't trust her. What if the book is in human hands and this is forbidden magic?" Xav cut in, and Dorian let out a low growl.
"No, Dorian. You've lost control here. We can all see how she's muddled your reason in a matter of days."
The conversation was beginning to feel like a splinter wedged under Dorian's nail—small but infuriatingly painful. Maybe it stung because there was truth in Xav's words, truth he'd been wrestling with for days. Why was he defying his father's orders for a girl they barely knew? But that wasn't true either. Leonie was kind and brave, self-sacrificing and a fighter. And she might also be their people's only chance at survival. That, he told himself, was why he'd decided. Pure logic.
And complete self-deception.
"Are you suggesting I'd endanger every elf in my kingdom by dragging her home without first finding out the truth?" Dorian leaned forward as Xav did the same.
"I'm suggesting that innocent little face has blinded you. You've brought serious trouble down on us with her."
Maybe because there was some truth even in that, Dorian felt a nearly overwhelming urge to break his nose just to shut him up. Before he could act on it, Marcus spoke.
"As if you don't know what Dorian is capable of, old friend. He got everything we needed out of her. The girl is completely innocent—she has no idea what's happening to her."
Not even Marcus knew that the only time Dorian had truly used his power on Leonie had been that one wretched morning.
"What do you mean, 'got everything out of me'?" a sleepy voice asked from the far end of the room, and every head whipped around at once. The argument had been so heated none of them had noticed Leonie coming closer. She had woken to the shouting and, guessing it might have something to do with her, had dragged herself over to find out what was going on. Now she stared at the group of men in utter confusion.
"What do you mean, Marcus?" she asked again, taking a few steps forward.
"Dorian's gift," Nir blurted, "he can—"
"One of my abilities is that I can step into people's minds and make them see things," Dorian interrupted, shutting Nir up with a single look. "And I can make them believe whatever I want. For instance, that they genuinely want to answer my questions honestly."
He fell silent for a moment and watched her, waiting for the pieces of the last few days to fall into place in her mind. It took a while. Leonie was already reeling at the idea that Dorian could intrude into her head. How much of the last days had been real? She had suspected something—he'd eased her pain, and there had been the scene by the lake he'd shown her—but she hadn't really thought through what that meant. Then she remembered he'd apologized more than once without her understanding why. That morning… She hadn't understood why she told him everything.
That couldn't be. She had trusted him.
"You—forced me to tell you everything."
She staggered back as if struck, while Dorian stood rigid, watching her with a face carved from stone.
"It was a mistake," Marcus tried, rushing to salvage what could still be saved for his friend, who seemed entirely incapable of handling the situation—because he wasn't handling it at all, just staring at Leonie with that grim expression.
"Believe me, he didn't mean to do it. If he could take it back…"
Leonie's painful, almost hysterical laughter cut him off.
"He'd do the same thing, wouldn't he?" she asked Dorian, blinking through tears. "Wouldn't he?"
Dorian gave a slow nod. Marcus ran a hand through his hair in despair. He'd never wanted to punch his king so much in his life.
While the other elves showed a whole range of reactions. Xav frowned in disapproval at Leonie for daring to call the king to account; Nir stared at them wide-eyed, back and forth; Aeson was obviously thoroughly entertained; and Filarion watched Dorian with a grave, measuring gaze.
"You're no better than he is," Leonie whispered, pointing an accusing finger at Dorian. "I hate you."
Outwardly, the words didn't seem to touch him, but inside they sank deep. It was a fact that he had, without meaning to, forced her to reveal something she'd never wanted to share. He had never intended to hurt her—yet here they were, and what little fragile trust she had been building had shattered.
Tears streamed down her face. She spun on her heel and stormed back to her room, throwing herself onto the bed and yanking the blanket over her. The throbbing in her head flared, beating behind her eyes.
She had been so wrong. She'd wanted to believe the elves were different from humans. That Dorian was different from the baron. She'd tried to convince herself they would protect her, that she didn't have to live in fear anymore—but now she felt more alone than ever before.
With that hollow ache in her chest, she cried herself to sleep.