Heart Over Sword
Chapter 226: Loraven (3)

Chapter 226: Loraven (3)

Loraven’s attention flicked to the sudden movement behind the King of the Flori, and her instinct kicked in immediately after seeing the human man sneaking behind him. With a speed only Lyvarian elves had, the she-elf pulled Thalinal behind her, leapt and kneed the human in the chest, her sword at his throat as they collapsed to the hard snowy ground.

"Loraven!" The sharpness of Thalinal’s voice stopped her from instantly slitting the man’s throat beneath her.

Water droplets from her face started dripping onto his, some already freezing and cutting his chiselled cheeks. Loraven kept her blade to his skin, eyes still locked with the man’s whose bright blue eyes were wide, his lips slightly ajar. His brown hair was cropped, short, and, before she attacked him, seemed to have been neatly slicked to the side. Now it was dishevelled and much better.

There was something noble and commanding about this man. Like his presence alone would command a room without needing to raise his voice. A born leader. Yet, there was also something kind and gentle about him. It was something about his eyes that told her so.

It intrigued her, even with the sword pressed against his throat. As though this man knew she had been gazing at his looks, a small smile formed on his lips from where they had once been open in slight shock or possibly horror. Without her friend’s command, he was guaranteed dead.

A sword was placed under her throat, and she sighed, glancing at the knight trying to protect the man beneath her. "Remove your sword, or I’ll remove your head," a young knight, not much older than eighteen who looked similar to the man she was threatening, hissed.

Loraven smirked, "hmmm, I wonder who will die first. Your man or me?"

"*Loraven, remove yourself now. This is my.. guest,*" Thalinal spoke from behind her. The word ’guest’ was strained and forceful.

Loraven tilted her head to the side, ignoring the cut forming at her throat. It barely stung. "*Thalinal, why have you brought humans to my lands?*" She asked icily.

"*They are your guests too. Remove yourself from him. Unlike us, their bodies are weaker. You may not get ill or die in this weather drenched in water, but he will. It is unfortunate they must remain alive,*" the Florian King said smoothly as his hand rested on her shoulder away from the blade pointed at her throat.

Sighing, Loraven pulled her sword away and almost knocked the man out on the side of his head after he winked at her. Winked at her!? This scoundrel! She must have had it all wrong! Kind eyes!?

Knowing Loraven well, Thalinal yanked her up by the arm before she did any harm to these ’precious’ humans. "What makes them so precious?" She spat, glaring at the pair, which she could probably say were brothers.

She spoke in their language so they could see how much their existence irritated her. Though, her tone of voice might have already given it away.

"*Hmmm, I never said precious. They’re more like nuisances.*" Thalinal brushed his gloved hand on his coat, wiping away the water that had already started to freeze on his glove and Loraven.

"Let me formally introduce myself." The man who she’d attacked stepped forward. His smooth, velvety voice annoyed her or possibly because his voice was so lovely, she disliked him more.

"There is no need," Loraven cut him off. "You should get someplace warm. A blizzard is approaching from the east."

The she-elf sheathed her swords and shared a look with the King before frowning and looking behind her. There were Thalinal’s usual twenty guards, but there also seemed to be at least thirty humans adorned in armour. "Such fools," she muttered, eying the shiny armour.

"Are all Lyvarians this haughty, or is that just you?" Loraven paused and turned to look at the man who had cut her throat.

He was definitely younger. His tone and almost child-like behaviour and ignorance revealed it so. Though the man she’d knocked over was similar in age, he seemed wise. By human standards, of course.

Much like how Loraven disliked them, he couldn’t keep the disdain off his features. Unlike Loraven, though, her words were sharp, but her features were blank with only the occasional smirk. Masked expressions from years of experience.

The Flori elves simultaneously behind the two men inhaled sharply, a few glancing at each other with slightly widened eyes. Only the somewhat older man seemed to ’read the room’ as the humans put it. He was looking between Loraven, Thalinal and the Flori King’s men.

Loraven took a step towards the man who had called her out. "And are all men pigs? Or is that only you?" She replied smoothly, her words pronounced in a clipped manner with a slight accent now that she was not speaking Muranthian.

In fact, all Lyvarians pronounced their words slightly differently from the Flori. It was only apparent between the elves. Unlike the southern elves, whose lives seemed more languid, much like their speech which was always pronounced at a slower rate, their words longer than what they needed to be, the Lyvarian’s spoke quickly. Each word almost sounded rushed compared to them. So they should be, in Lyvaria, they never knew when they would have a peaceful moment.

If it was not monsters, then it was the hazardous environments they lived in, and if not that, then their temperament among each other was just as deadly. Those in the palace had it worse, with everyone, including family, possibly ready to stick a knife when another’s back was turned.

The man was young indeed. He scoffed, the hurt from her words apparent from the growing red on his face. He stepped forwards, his hand on the hilt of his sword again, but his older brother, or so she had concluded, placed a hand on his chest, stopping him.

"My apologies, my lady. It has been a long journey, and my little brother has never been so far from the palace before." He bowed his head at her and placed three fingers against his chest, surprising Loraven at the Lyvarian gesture.

"Little!?" The younger brother glared at the elder brother.

"The palace?" Loraven asked, clearing her throat slightly, letting the shock settle, and refusing to acknowledge the slight warmth in her chest. The man most likely researched the basics to please any Lyvarians that might seek them harm. For a human, though, he was quite charming.

Thalinal stepped up to her then and grinned, though it was rather wickedly. "*Did I not tell you?*" He whispered menacingly before gesturing towards the men. "This is Crown Prince Selvin Goodrich and his younger brother, Prince Osian Goodrich of Dunhurst."

No, he forgot to mention that when she had her blade at the Crown Prince’s throat. Loraven eyed the two again. Princes? That was why their skin seemed smooth beneath the dirt and grime, and they had an air of nobility about them.

"*Princelings? They are more like ducklings afraid to be slaughtered,*" Loraven commented chirpily, making Thalinal turn his head away laughing.

"What did she say!? Did she slander us?" Osian asked furiously, but again Selvin held him back and shook his head.

"No. How would I dare slander a Prince of Dunhurst?" Loraven replied, then bowed her head. "Loraven, at your service, for now." Then turned away from them, feeling a little prickly towards Thalinal, who raised his brow at her.

Loraven did not introduce herself correctly, but if princes were visiting Lyvaria, then that meant her parents had already sent a search party out for her. They could not look anything but icy perfect, especially to human guests.

"Come this way," she called over her shoulder, feeling the weight of her people on her shoulders. She could not allow the future King of Dunhurst to die in Lyvaria now. He was already starting to shake from the cold. And she was partly to blame for it.