Page 37 of Maid For The Dark Elf

Caelric hasn't spoken since her announcement, but I see the conflict warring across his features. As heir to House Vaerith, he understands the political necessity. As Aurelia's brother, he clearly wants to forbid it entirely. As the man tasked with fixing this Ardyn disaster, he wants to buy himself time and put someone on the inside to figure out what's going on.

Maltheris finally speaks, his voice carrying the measured tone of someone choosing each word carefully. "If you're certain this is what you want⁠—"

"It's what needs to happen," Aurelia corrects, then turns her attention to me with surprising directness. "Rosalie, you'll be the one to break the news to Lady Ardyn once Alaric accepts the arrangement. I'll write the letter myself."

My heart skips at being drawn into such a momentous decision. "You sound confident he won't refuse."

The smile that spreads across Aurelia's face holds both warmth and shrewd political calculation. "He's spent his entire life believing he'd never inherit anything. Now he's being offered not just legitimacy, but an alliance with one of Vhoig's most powerful families." She shrugs with elegant practicality. "What man in his position would be foolish enough to refuse?"

Emeric crosses his arms, the movement making his scarred muscles ripple beneath his shirt. His crimson eyes burn with the kind of intensity that usually precedes violence. "Has anyone considered that Alaric might already know his heritage?"

The question lands like a stone thrown into still water, sending ripples of unease through the room. I watch as every face turns toward him, expressions shifting from confusion to dawning comprehension.

"What if he had his uncle taken so he could step into his rightful place as Lord?" Emeric's voice carries the deadly calm of a warrior who has identified a threat. "We're handing our sister to someone who might be a murderer."

The silence feels suffocating. Seralyth's hand flies to her throat, while Asterion goes completely rigid. Even Maltheris straightens with the sharp attention of someone reassessing everything he thought he knew.

But Aurelia doesn't flinch. Instead, she smooths an invisible wrinkle from her sapphire gown with the same composed grace she's shown throughout this entire discussion. "If that's the case, then I'll discover the truth from inside the Ardyn household."

Her violet eyes hold steady as she meets each family member's gaze in turn. "Who better to help solve the mystery than someone with complete access to their private conversations, their correspondence, their daily routines?"

Emeric's jaw clenches so tightly I see the muscle jumping beneath his skin. "You're talking about putting yourself in the same house as someone who might have orchestrated a lord's disappearance."

"I'm talking about being the best positioned person to uncover evidence we could never find from the outside." Aurelia's voice carries absolute certainty. "If Alaric is guilty, I'll discover it. If he's innocent, I'll help clear his name while stabilizing House Ardyn."

Caelric finally speaks, his voice rough with emotion. "If it turns out Alaric is behind Aethan's disappearance, I'll ensure none of it taints your reputation." His indigo eyes burn with protective fire. "You can return home immediately."

The words linger like an unfinished promise. I see the thought none of them wants to voice—she can return home, as long as she isn't the next target.

Aurelia rises from her chair with fluid grace, her platinum hair catching the light streaming through the windows. "The arrangements need to be made before rival houses realize what's happening."

She moves toward the door with the unhurried elegance of someone who has already made peace with her decision. "I'll write the letter to Lady Ardyn myself. Rosalie can deliver it tomorrow."

One by one, the family follows her from the study. Seralyth's violet eyes glisten with unshed tears as she passes, while Emeric's expression remains thunderous. Asterion trails behind, his scholarly mind clearly racing through possibilities none of them want to consider.

Soon only Caelric and I remain in the sudden quiet of the empty room.

"How is she really?" The question emerges without preamble as I look at him.

His shoulders sag slightly. "She is doing the right thing. That's what makes it so damned difficult to watch."

The pain in his admission breaks something loose in my chest. Without thinking, I reach for his hand, intertwining our fingers in the darkness. "You love her very much."

"She's been the heart of our family since we were children." His thumb traces gentle circles across my knuckles, the simple touch sending warmth spiraling through me. "Watching her sacrifice so much for duty... it reminds me why I've always dreaded my own responsibilities as heir."

His words hit me like icy water poured over burning coals. The warmth that had been building between us—this stolen moment where I could pretend we were simply two people who cared for each other—shatters completely.

Duty. Responsibility. The weight of an ancient noble house resting on his shoulders.

None of which includes taking a human mistress.

My stomach twists into knots as the reality crashes over me with brutal clarity. What am I to him, really? What could I ever be? The answer sits in my heart like a stone: nothing more than the whore everyone already believes me to be. Just like they whispered about Lord Aethan and me, they'll whisper about Caelric and me. Except this time, they'll be right.

The future Lord of House Vaerith doesn't marry his human plaything. He marries another noble, someone who can bring political alliances and legitimate heirs. Someone who can stand beside him at royal functions without causing a scandal that would echo through generations.

I pull my hand from his as though his touch burns, stepping back toward the shadows where I belong.

"Rosalie." His voice carries immediate concern. "What's wrong?"