By the time Leonie woke the next morning, Dorian was no longer beside her. Had she dreamed all of it? She pushed herself up carefully, taking care not to put weight on her broken wrist, and tested a few small movements. The dull ache thrummed through her whole body, but it felt… manageable. With some effort she got to her feet and took a few unsteady steps.
"Well, well, looks like someone's feeling better," came Marcus's cheerful voice behind her as he led his horse closer. Dorian rode up beside him on his own mount, silently taking stock of the girl. Relief washed over him at the sight that she could at least stand.
"We're leaving soon. Eat something and freshen up," he threw over to her.
Leonie frowned. Dorian's commanding tone grated on her nerves. She would have loved to tell him exactly who he could give orders to, but she'd long since learned it was wiser not to provoke arrogant men like him. In the end, she would be the one to pay for it.
"What Dorian meant to say," Marcus amended, jabbing his elbow into Dorian's side, "is that we should be on our way soon, and we'll be riding all day again, so you'll need your strength. Please, eat something."
He handed her a piece of yesterday's elven rations.
"Still not poisoned," he added with a grin, and to his astonishment Leonie actually gave him a faint smile.
"Thank you," she murmured, taking the food and sitting down. After everything she'd been through, the simple kindness in his voice almost made her burst into tears. But her joy didn't last long, because for some reason Dorian managed to sound even grumpier when he added:
"Hurry up. You'll be riding with me."
He turned his back on her and walked off. Even Marcus's brow furrowed as he watched him go.
"Don't mind him," Marcus said. "He's probably just not used to sharing a bed with a woman who doesn't want something from him." He chuckled—and no, he did not feel this joke was too early.
He too left Leonie standing there, stunned, until she hurriedly stuffed a few more bites into her mouth, grabbed her aching side, and limped after him as he strapped the packs to his horse.
"Marcus," she muttered under her breath, stopping behind him with her head lowered.
"Speak, little one," he said, turning with a raised eyebrow and looking down at her where she barely reached his chest.
"I… Do you think… I could ride with you?"
Marcus squinted at the top of her head. His chest tightened with sympathy for this innocent creature; he could only guess what she'd lived through, and how scared she still was. And she was right—Leonie was terrified at the idea of being pressed up against Dorian all day.
"Please," she whispered.
Marcus let out a long sigh and ran a hand through his hair. He already knew what Leonie did not. Dorian always got what he wanted, and judging by his reaction last night when Marcus had tried to lie down beside her, he wouldn't be thrilled about this idea either. The other thing the girl likely didn't realize was that no matter how quietly she spoke, Dorian's sharpened senses picked up every word.
"Look, I'd gladly take you," Marcus began, "but you have no reason to be afraid of Dorian. He's not—"
But before he could finish, the elf in question rode up and cut him off.
"Stop wasting time. We're already behind schedule. You're coming with me," he told Leonie in a tone that did not invite argument.
"And what if I want to go with Marcus?" Leonie shot back. She wasn't a sack of rice to be tossed from one place to another at their convenience. She did, in fact, have a will of her own—though Dorian might disagree.
He raised an eyebrow and glanced at his friend.
"Marcus."
He didn't need to say more. In one smooth motion, the elf scooped Leonie up and deposited her in Dorian's lap, ignoring her attempts to wriggle free. Dorian settled her in place in front of him as if she were a child. He tried to be as gentle as possible so as not to worsen her injuries, but the constant rhythm of riding could only make things worse over time.
It showed after barely half an hour of silent travel. Leonie shifted again and again, searching for a position that hurt less. She didn't want to touch him, but she couldn't hold herself upright anymore and was forced to lean back against his chest. Dorian tried very hard not to notice how pleasantly soft her body felt against him.
He still didn't speak to her. It bothered him that she'd wanted to ride with Marcus instead. He had saved her life; she ought to be grateful… shouldn't she? But could he really blame her?
And if he told her the truth… would it make anything easier? Maybe she would trust him more, maybe it would bring them closer—and then what? It would be hard enough to make his people accept her as it was. Yes, she had elven blood, but she'd been raised among humans. To most of his kind, that alone would make her a stranger.
But if he settled her in some small forest village, one that knew little and cared even less about the outside world, nobody would ask too many questions. No one would pry into who she was. If he appeared at her side, though, that whole plan would fall apart.
Leonie deserved a chance at a new, peaceful life. A place where she could finally begin to heal. That was the right thing to do. For nearly two hours Dorian rode in stubborn silence, convincing himself of the nobility of this decision.
"Listen…" he said at last, just as all those generous thoughts shattered in an instant—right when Leonie, exhausted, let her head rest against his chest.
"Why are you doing this?" she asked at the exact same moment.
It was all she'd been thinking about. After everything he'd done, the man somehow still managed to seem… caring, in his own way. He'd eased her pain. He'd warmed her when she was freezing. The way he touched her now was as if she were some precious jewel. Maybe he felt guilty. He seemed so serious, so controlled, even with his wild appearance. Ruthless. And he had been ruthless.
How could anyone ever make up for a night like that?
Then again… what did he even want from her now? Since they'd set out—at least since she'd been conscious again—Dorian hadn't made a single attempt to get closer to her. Was he waiting for her to recover, so that once they reached his band of warriors, he could toss her to them as fresh prey?
"Because you're one of us," Dorian replied after a short pause.
It was a perfectly logical answer. And yet, somewhere deep inside, something else stirred—something he was trying very hard to ignore.
"But… I'm not," Leonie said quietly.
"Then who are you?"
"A nobody," she answered simply; it was the truth she'd been taught since childhood.
"Why do you think that?" Dorian's brows drew together. He didn't like the way she spoke about herself.
"Because… I grew up in the baron's castle. For a very long time I was completely alone. Only Esthelle looked after me. Everyone else avoided me like I carried some terrible disease. They didn't want me wandering the corridors. The baron strictly forbade me to interact with other children, and especially to show anyone my ears.
He never missed a chance to remind me that I was just a half-breed, someone who should never have existed at all. Because I'm an elf—or so he said. No one could explain how that was possible. Maybe it's arrogant, but for most of my life I thought I was the only one. And now I've found out your people actually exist… but I'm not one of you either. I don't know anything about you. About your people. About your home."
Dorian wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and comfort her. She was so young, yet had faced so much hardship, without anyone to help her. Always an outsider among a foreign race. He could hardly imagine how she'd survived in a court as cruel as the baron's.
But she wasn't alone anymore. From now on, he would do whatever it took to give her a better future. Dorian would…
What exactly? His thoughts circled back to the question that had haunted him for the last two hours.
What was he going to do with her?
"The only home I've ever known is the baron's castle," Leonie went on with a weary sigh, "and even there I never really belonged. Eventually I started sneaking out into the forest. It'll sound ridiculous, but sometimes when I walked among the trees I felt like they were speaking to me… the bushes, the flowers… I could understand them. I know it's foolish," she whispered, cheeks heating with embarrassment.
What nonsense. Esthelle had warned her that if she kept talking like that, people would think she was mad. They'd chain her up like a lunatic.
"And what did they say to you?" Dorian asked in a gentle voice.
To him, it sounded perfectly natural—the elves lived in deep harmony with the natural world. There was nothing shameful about it, even if they didn't literally hear plants speaking.
"Most of the time they just comforted me," she said. "They sang ancient songs when I cried, and danced with me when I was happy… After a while they started whispering how I could use them for healing."
She shifted a little in his lap, trying to lessen the throbbing in her ribs.
"I know it sounds silly, but when Esthelle's three-year-old niece caught a terrible chill and everyone thought she was going to die, I was walking in the forest and felt one of the plants call to me. I brewed it and bathed her in it. Within a few hours, she was better.
"Esthelle told me I must never speak of it to anyone. At first I thought it was just luck. Then it kept happening. Sick servants and villagers came looking for me; somehow word got out, and they all begged me to help. And I did.
"When the baron found out, he beat me badly. I couldn't get out of bed for weeks… Did you know there's no healing tea for broken bones?" She gave a small, bitter smile.
"But I kept doing it—after that, in secret. They caught me a few times, but most of the time, thankfully, I managed to help people."
Dorian glanced at Marcus, who had been riding beside them in an uncharacteristic silence. On his friend's face he saw the same question that burned in his own mind.
Could this truly be?
Everything Leonie described pointed toward something they'd believed long vanished from the world. And on top of that, they'd already been wrong about elves not living among humans at all.
If this was true… it changed everything.
"I know, you must think I'm crazy," Leonie sighed. Sometimes she thought so herself.
"We don't think that, little one," Marcus finally spoke up after a minute of quiet, seeing how deeply Dorian had sunk into his thoughts.
"Elves are an ancient, magical people, bound very deeply to nature. Some among us have extraordinary gifts. Even we don't know them all."
"Gifts?" Leonie repeated, a hint of hope creeping into her voice. "What does that mean?"
"Well… there are different clans, living side by side in peace, and each of us shares in a different gift of nature. I, for example, have power over the wind. It comes when I call, and with the right ancient incantations I can shape it. Pretty impressive, right?" he added with a grin at Leonie's awestruck expression.
"That is… really impressive," she admitted, smiling at Marcus's enthusiasm.
"Can you show me?"
Marcus glanced at Dorian, but his friend was clearly no longer truly present in the conversation. So Marcus lifted his hand.
Before them, leaves rose from the forest floor all at once and began to whirl in front of their noses in a wild, colorful dance.
"This is… amazing!" Leonie laughed, eyes shining.
The leaves gathered into a single swirling cluster above them and promptly dropped all at once, showering all three of them from head to toe. Dorian's head snapped up—not because of some sneaky attack, but at the sound of Leonie's laughter.
It felt like some heavenly symphony, and he could almost feel himself melting at the sound. He shot his friend a grateful look, and Leonie turned to him:
"And you, Dorian? What can you do?"
Dorian rubbed the back of his neck, troubled. If he revealed his abilities now, it would only give her one more reason to mistrust him. By hiding them he was only adding to the secrets between them—but the girl needed time.
Or was it actually he who needed it?
Seeing his friend's inner struggle, Marcus rode a little closer, leaned toward them, plucked a bright leaf from Leonie's hair and handed it to her with a wide grin.
"Dorian's greatest gift," he said, "is how thoroughly he can get on my nerves."
Leonie burst out laughing again, then fell quiet, chewing on everything she had just seen and heard.
Dorian gave Marcus another grateful look. His friend, as always, made far better company than he did.