Iron Elf - A Race Reborn (Book 2) by Klay Testamark

had excellent taste. He had wines that were like flowers in the mouth, wines that were like the summer sun. There was something that could only be mourning wine. It was bitter and earthy—like drinking graveyard dirt. A nice wine for when you’re crying into your drink. There were quite a few bottles of it, which made me wonder. I decided to seek a less melancholy vintage down in the kitchens.
     
    I found Nanette. She was dressed to travel and giving last-minute instructions to the kitchen staff. “Goodness, milord, why didn’t you ring? Would like some warm milk? Maybe a sandwich?”
     
    “I didn’t want to trouble anyone.” I began opening cabinets. “Just looking for a nightcap.”
     
    “We’re done here,” she told the others. “Off with you—I’ll take care of His Majesty.”
     
    She sat me at the breakfast bar and gave me a glass of sherry and a glass of water. “At least try to minimize the hangover.”
     
    “Thanks.” I dipped a finger in each. I had no idea how Arawn treated this woman, so I hoped my tipsiness would hide anything said out of character. “I’m not keeping you from anything, am I?”
     
    “I was about to join the other staff and my husband, but the carriage can wait. You look like you need someone to talk to.”
     
    “Maybe. How’s your husband, by the way?”
     
    “I hope he’s getting a good rest. But knowing him, he’s probably worn a rut in the ground waiting for me. He worries about everything, you see.”
     
    “You’ll have to remind me what he does for a living.”
     
    She laughed. “He calls himself a trader. He’s fair though, and only makes a little profit. We do quite well, but I wish it wouldn’t stress him so much. The last time he took a vacation it was our honeymoon!”
     
    “Sounds like a real workaholic.” I took a sip of water. “A man’s job can seem like his entire reason for being.”
     
    “You must know all about that. I don’t suppose a king can stop being one, can he?”
     
    “Not if he’s good at his job. If there’s no one else, he can hardly step down, can he? He has to be a king even if it kills him.”
     
    She looked straight at me. “You could always let them invade, Your Majesty. What did the elves ever do for you?”
     
    “I wish I knew.” I drained both my glasses. She refilled them and I continued. I said, “It’s the right thing to do, of course. Elves may not be the most loveable of people, but nobody deserves to have their homes taken away.”
     
    “But you’re afraid you won’t survive the duel.”
     
    I took another drink. This was good cooking sherry. “I’ll probably get killed and they’ll invade anyway. But not for a year. I have that much time left to me.” I was reaching the stage where I couldn’t believe I was drunk.
     
    “I’m surprised you aren’t making the most of it with your young queen.” Her eyes crinkled in amusement. “She’s almost as beautiful as I was when I was young.”

    “You’re still beautiful. Why, were you not a married woman—”
     
    “Oh, stop!” She giggled. “You are a charmer, Highness, but you I reserve all my love for my husband. And on that note, it’s time to go.”
     
    I stood up as well.
     
    Grahothy was waiting with the carriage. “Your escort is ready, ma’am.”
     
    “Thank you, Sir Grahothy. I hope I haven’t kept them waiting.” She turned to me. “Your Majesty, I doubt things are as hopeless as you think. And even if they were, there’s a certain comfort in knowing the exact day of your death, isn’t it?”
     
    She was easily younger than I was. How do halflings get so wise so quickly?
     
    “Spare me such comforts,” I said. “I’d rather live with uncertainty.”
     
    Grahothy and I watched her go. Her escort was nearly as large as mine had been. It was made up of many of the same soldiers. I watched her go, then returned to the kitchen.
     
     

    I don’t recall going to bed. I vaguely remember trying to go into a