A light knock sounded at the door. Anxiety and anticipation tore through Eilath. Ever since arriving at the queen’s island, the elf had been both dreading and hoping for this moment. When his eyes had first met hers across the marble hallway, so much had been communicated between the two of them. Yellow fear and orange shock on the queen’s part and, surprisingly enough, a swirl of hope.
What must she think of me? Coming back here to her island instead of his own family’s, especially after all this time away.
He rested his hand on the highly polished brass doorknob—a luxury in their metal deprived world—and took a deep breath.
He opened the door, and there she stood, nearly as tall as he, but vastly more elegant and beautiful. He knew in that moment that she still firmly possessed his heart.
Two lovers separated for a hundred years by their own selfish behavior. After all this time, can the queen and the minstrel make amends and reunite, or will their elvish pride keep them apart forever?