Elven Princess : Razvak Series Book 2 by Arel B. Grant

Author:Arel B. Grant [Grant, Arel B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BZN Media
Published: 2021-04-25T04:00:00+00:00

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Dalbran saw the second she realized the truth and breathed a sigh of relief. He let go of the lizard and watched as the little reptile shot away at lightning speed. “I killed my first beast when I was two and ten. I was scared and disgusted and cried while I did it, but I did do it. Because I knew it was the only way to put food on the table. Because I would starve otherwise. It was me or it, and I chose me.” Dalbran kneeled, picked up the throwing knife and slid it into its sheath. “And I hated myself afterwards.”

The princess’ amethyst eyes had a wet sheen to them, and Dalbran realized that she had cried quite a lot since he’d met her. Most of it because of him.

“You hated yourself?” The question was low and tentative.

Dalbran nodded. “I cried and begged not to have to do it again, and retched when I was forced to eat the meat I had caught and prepared. I had horrible nightmares, too.” Dalbran chuckled in embarrassment as he thought about those days. About a boy who knew nothing. “A couple of days later, however, when the meat ran out, I had to go hunting again. And again and again. Until I felt nothing. No sadness, no disgust, no shame. Nothing. Can you imagine that, princess? Ending a creature’s life without caring?”

She opened her mouth, but they both knew she was not going to answer. Dalbran offered his hand to her. She stared at it, but made no movement to take it.

“You knew. You knew I could not do it.”

Dalbran saw no use in lying. “You are an elf of Forestgreen. I told you yesterday. Your people revere life. Even if you cannot connect with the animals here as tightly as you can with those in your forest, one cannot shed years of upbringing just like that.”

“Is that why you will not teach me?”

“You cannot fight without killing, princess, it is not possible. And if you are not ready to kill, then you shouldn’t fight at all.”

His words hit her like the lashing of a whip. She hugged herself tighter, her body cold. She trembled, squeezing her own arms so hard her fingers went taut.

“I wanted to get stronger. To help this time, but I cannot even… I cannot even…” Sad, desperate rage was pouring from her. It was a hot, swirling thing that was almost visible, almost burning. “Even for my mother… Even for my father, I cannot… I cannot–”

“So what?”

His words snapped her to attention, and she looked up at him with indignation. Dalbran realized he had two options. He could comfort her and let her drown in her tears, or he could bring that anger forward until it banished her sorrow.

“What did you say?”

Making his choice, he crossed his arms on his chest and scowled at her. “I said, so what? So what if you cannot help? You were never supposed to.”

“I was–!”

“You’re a princess. An Ira’agnna. Your job is to remain at home.

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