haebin | The Mistress of the Shadowland, Second Book, The next Chapter

I am a little bit late today but not too late, right? ;)
So please enjoy my newest chapter and thank you so much for reading!
♥

Trálír left the castle kitchen behind him and stepped out into the Great Hall. As midsummer approached with each passing day, the large fire in the center was not lit, only a few torches providing some light. The high elf appreciated the pleasant coolness that prevailed there as he let his gaze glide over those present. A sigh caught in his throat as he recognized his father at the long, central table that stood across from the throne.
And I thought he had already finished his meal and was long gone to his chamber, Trálír thought in frustration, a sigh on his lips.
He seemed to be having an animated conversation with his men when suddenly his father's deep, dark laughter filled the hall. Trálír took this as an opportunity to walk in the shadows along the right wall of the Great Hall, as quietly as possible and hidden from the men's view, in order to avoid a meeting with his father.
But suddenly an older elf in uniform stepped into his path and cleared his throat. The ruler's son frowned indignantly and he noticed how the soldier swallowed with nervousness, which was also visible in his green eyes. Nevertheless, he did not take his eyes off Trálír.
“Your father wishes to speak to you,” he said in a low voice, almost apologetically.
“Now?” Trálír raised a dark eyebrow. “It seems he has more important things to do.”

He pointed to the table and his father, who was still talking to his men. The soldier cleared his throat, embarrassed.
"Forgive me, sir, but those were his words. He wishes to speak to you now."
“Well, so be it,” Trálír sighed, nodding to the soldier and giving him permission to leave. He took a deep breath, then turned left and walked through the hall to the large table.
Without saying a word, he looked silently at his father, who at that moment turned to his right hand and patted him on the shoulder, laughing.
Trálír gritted his teeth. He knew that his father was doing this on purpose.
Everything and everyone was more important than his own son and it was a pleasure for Trálír, the elder, to make him wait, to make him feel like a small child begging for his father's attention.
Trálír stood at the table for three long breaths before he gave in to the rage that seethed within him and wanted to turn around, but just at that moment he heard his father's deep, full voice.
“Trálír!”
His sons blue-green eyes darkened unconsciously when he heard his. He bowed slightly and replied in a cold voice: “Father.”

"Well, look at you, my son. It seems, you had a successful hunt after all the blood that soaked your robes."
His father's obvious amusement at the emphasis on the successful hunt made one or two of the elves chuckle. Trálír knew that his relationship with Anwyn was no secret in this castle, but it was mostly tolerated in silence. No elf or half-elf dared to speak to him about it. But this did not apply to his father. He took every opportunity to ridicule Trálír’s feelings for a human woman, often in the presence of others.
And this is the perfect opportunity for him, Trálír thought angrily. Yet no one at the table could see the rage shown on his face. He stared at his father with a stoic expression.
“You wanted to see me?”
“Well, that's what I wanted,” his father replied, looking at his son, a smug smile on his lips. Trálír's heart tightened painfully for a moment at the sight of that smile, because he knew it only too well.
At first it seemed benevolent, perhaps a little pompous, but if you could see behind this thin veil of feigned friendliness, you could recognize the joy in the cruelty that reigned in his father's thoughts. Regardless of whether it was a rebuke or, as now, a display of Trálír's feelings.
"I have heard that you are planning a trip, my son. I’ve been told, you want to visit your mother’s cousin? On the very days when the human inhabitants of this land pay homage to Aine. Is that just a coincidence or are you really planning to celebrate a goddess with this dirty peasants who couldn't be more unimportant to us elves?"
His father's dislike of the human inhabitants of his land was clearly audible and Trálír pressed his lips together angrily. He was trying so hard not to let his feelings show, but he could not prevent his eyes from betraying him, for they burned with rage.

Trálír, the elder, looked at his son knowingly. He knew that his words were instantly associated with his love for Anwyn.
The smile on his father's lips was as false as the kind, almost compassionate words that followed.
“I'm afraid you'll have no choice but to cancel your planned visit, my son.”
“What? Why?” Trálír stared at his father in horror. "Why should I do this? These days of festivities have no meaning for us elves, as you have already made clear. They are days like any other and it would surely be important if we strengthened the bonds with our remaining family, wouldn't it?"
"How right you are, Trálír. Perhaps we should invite the cousin of your deeply missed mother to our castle?"
Trálír's blood seemed to freeze at his father's words. The suggestion sounded more like a threat and he shook his head slowly.
"No? Well, you see, your meeting doesn't seem to be that important. And you don't have to mope, because we're expecting guests.“
“Guests?” the high elf asked his father in consternation. "Why would we be expecting guests these days? Are they the reason why we are suddenly celebrating the feast of Aine in our castle? Here, with us? That makes no sense, father."
Trálír, the elder, sighed theatrically and rolled his eyes. A loud laugh rang out and Trálír looked at the elf, who leaned forward in amusement and looked at him with an arrogant expression.

Suddenly, hot rage surged through Trálír's entire body as he recognized the elf.
Dol... Dolgulkur? ...
He remembered darkly. Wasn't this the arrogant, extremely self-absorbed elf whose face he had almost smashed? And he was now sitting at his father's table?
Trálír couldn’t fully control his emotions anymore. His face hardened and his smile froze to a cold sneer. The contempt in his eyes was now clearly obvious.

It seemed that his father had taken a liking to this one.
Nevertheless, Trálír noted with satisfaction that the elf's once straight nose, which he had broken with a well-aimed blow from his fist, now had a crooked hump.
He only turned his attention back to his father when he began to speak again.
"Well, a visitor has just announced himself for this time, Trálír. And what kind of ruler would I be if I refused them our hospitality?"
His father's voice was firm. There was no question that the decision had already been made.
“By all nine Hells,” Trálír cursed softly through clenched teeth. His gaze slid over the soldiers sitting at the table and lingered on the First Hand, Neererin. He listened to the ruler's words with a reserved expression, but his eyes were fixed on the empty plate in front of him. He seemed to avoid Trálír's gaze.
Hells, what's going on here? And why is Neererin avoiding my gaze? Trálír thought and finally looked at his father. He was no longer able to hold back his anger, but at least he tried to control his voice and so he asked with forced calmness which nevertheless sounded extremely brittle: “And what is the reason for this visit?”
Trálír, the elder, chuckled amusedly.

"Well, you'll definitely be informed of the reason sooner or later. Just think of it as a little surprise. "
The high elf stared at his father indignantly.
“I will now allow you to retire to your chamber, my son.”
And with these words, Trálír, the elder, turned away from his firstborn, who was stunned speechless. He nodded stiffly, then immediately turned away and strode up the grand staircase in a rage. His footsteps echoed thunderously through the long corridor until he reached his room, opened the door and slammed it forcefully behind him.

*****

As the rooster's call broke through Anwyn’s dreams and slowly drew her out of the grip of deep sleep, she stretched under the thin sheet with her eyelids still closed. She gradually felt her body awakening, her chest rising and falling as she sleepily opened her eyelids.
Anwyn leaned her head back and looked up at the ceiling where the first faint rays of sunlight were beginning to appear. As she yawned, she stretched one more time and then glanced at her father's bed.
He seemed to be sleeping soundly, as she could see his body moving slightly under the thin blanket due to his constant breathing, but it still indicated a deep sleep. She then sat up, reached for the shawl lying on her clothes chest and put it on, for she was only wearing a nightdress made of thin fabric. It was still chilly this early in the morning, but she would go to the spring, wash herself there and get ready for the day before returning to the house, getting dressed and then starting her daily chores.

Anwyn wanted to get the work done as quickly as possible, as she planned to go into the forest again in the early afternoon to gather fruit and the like, so that she could process it and be close to Trálír in the afternoon when he would join them. Just knowing that he was only a few steps away from her while she went about her daily work filled Anwyn with a feeling of deep gratitude and happiness.
As quietly as she could, Anwyn rose from her bed, tiptoed to the door and opened it. She stepped out into the silence of the dawning day and closed the door, lost in thought, when she suddenly heard someone whisper her name.
“Anwyn.”
Unconsciously, she flinched, startled, and turned to the side where she suspected the voice was coming from. Stunned, she stared at Trálír, who was sitting on the ground next to the front door.
“Trálír?” Wide-eyed, she sank on her knees so her face was on the same level as his, placing her hands on his, holding his legs tucked against his chest. Anwyn looked at him worriedly. “What brings you here at this time of night, Trálír?” she whispered, her heart beating painfully as she saw the tormented expression in his blue-green eyes.
“Forgive me, I don't want you to worry about me.” Trálír bit his lips and turned his face away, but Anwyn could see tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, which he sheepishly wiped away with the back of his hand.