The broken elf king, p.1
The Broken Elf King, page 1
LEIA STONE is the USA Today bestselling author of multiple series. She’s sold over three million books and her Fallen Academy series has been optioned for film; her novels have been translated into five languages and she even dabbles in script writing. She lives in Spokane, Washington with her husband and two children. Follow her on Instagram @leiastoneauthor and on TikTok @leiastone and find her on Facebook at facebook.com/leia.stone.
Copyright
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
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HarperCollinsPublishers
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This edition 2023
1
First published in Great Britain by Leia Stone LLC 2022
Copyright © Leia Stone
Leia Stone asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Ebook Edition © April 2023 ISBN: 9780008638498
Version 2023-04-13
Contents
Cover
About the Author
Title Page
Copyright
Map
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
The Ruthless Fae King (Chapter One)
Acknowledgments
About the Publisher
ONE
The covered wagon jerked to a stop and my shoulder slammed into the person next to me. I mumbled an apology, and then the back canvas flaps opened.
“Out!” the slave trader barked, and we all stood. It took quite an effort considering our hands were tied behind our backs.
I followed the line of my fellow captives, and when I got to the edge of the wagon I jumped, wincing at the sting in my heels. I peered around quickly to find that we were at the golden gates of Elf City, the capital of Archmere. I’d never been outside of Nightfall, and although my current predicament was dreary, I wanted to at least sightsee before I was sold into a life of servitude. My father, a full-blooded elf, spoke fondly of his motherland, and I could see why. Tall trees with white blooms lined the outer castle gates, and rolling hills and mountains surrounded us on all sides. It was breathtaking.
“Head down,” the trader snapped at me, bopping me in the back of the skull.
My feet suddenly caught on my long cloak and I yelped as I went down. With my hands tied behind me there wasn’t much I could do but brace for the fall. Turning my face to the side, I squared my shoulders, hitting the ground hard and smashing my breasts against a rock. Pain splashed across the entire front side of my body, but I’d mercifully kept my nose from breaking, so I was calling it a win. The other servants stopped and peered down at me as I rolled to my side and glared up at the slave trader. He was tall and thickly built, a human but still strong enough to cause some damage if I pissed him off.
I groaned, and then seconds later the trader reached down and hauled me up by the armpit.
“If you can’t even walk straight, I won’t get proper money for you,” the trader spat.
I wanted to throat-punch the bastard, but that was impossible with my current predicament. I’d settle for a headbutt, though it would probably get me killed. The best I could hope for now was for my new master to be a decent person—er, elf.
The line of my fellow indentured servants started walking again, and I was forced to follow, all thoughts of the glorious headbutt behind me. This time I was more mindful of my footing.
I wondered what my aunt was doing right now. When they’d taken me she’d been screaming and crying. She was probably worried sick. I’d lived in Nightfall all nineteen years of my life, and as an elf-human hybrid I was blessed with short-cropped ears. So the queen, nor anyone else in Nightfall had any idea I wasn’t human.
“What’s your debt?” the girl beside me whispered.
Pulled from my thoughts, I shook my head, not understanding what she meant.
“Gambling. I owe two gold coins to Bino,” she offered, looking sullen.
Bino ran the poker ring at the tavern. Now I understood her question. She wanted to know why I was being sold.
I should never have borrowed the money for my aunt’s medicine knowing I wasn’t going to be able to pay it back. But I’d been desperate to stop the seizures that plagued her. I’d never been taught to use my elvin healing, so we were at the mercy of the human doctors and what they had available. My aunt was a human, same as my mother, and my father had been an elf. Mom died in labor with me and my dad was killed in the town square to make an example out of trespassers. He’d been coming to see me. Now my aunt was all I had, the only family I’d ever known.
“Five gold coins. To the chemist,” I told her.
She looked surprised by the amount, no doubt wondering if I had a pill problem. I wished it were that—it would make more sense than the queen charging an arm and a leg for life-saving medication. Sometimes I thought it was her way to weed out the sick. Make all of the weak, poor people dependent on medication die off and strengthen her perfect society. Most of us hated Queen Zaphira. Her sick plan to humanize the entire realm meant that all of the magical races would need to be culled first. The necros, elves, fae, wolvens, and even the dragon-folk would eventually be wiped from Avalier if the queen had her way.
“My aunt is sick. She needs expensive medicine,” I explained to the girl.
My aunt’s seizures started when I was twelve, little fits here and there, but this latest one had been so bad her leg hadn’t worked right afterward. She had to drag it now when she walked. She would need more medicine in a month’s time to keep them away.
“Quit yapping!” the trader yelled, and the girl and I parted, looking ahead and taking in the city.
The elvin city was beautiful. It was carved of alderwood with gold inlay and semiprecious stones. The high-pointed arches were breathtaking. The sunlight hitting the gold inlay and precious stones made it look like they glittered as we walked. But we’d passed through the entire city and I’d barely noticed, lost in my thoughts and talking to the girl. Now we stood at a doorway on the side of the large white castle.
“Servant entrance,” a guard said, and I looked up at the voice.
Don’t let anyone tell you that all elves are tall and skinny. The man guarding the servant entrance to the castle was the opposite of that. A short, squatty man with a beaky nose and ice-blue eyes glared at me. His golden-white hair was tied into a ponytail and braided at the sides. I noticed the sword at his hip and wondered if he even knew how to use it.
There was no way he was a part of the king’s royal guard. The Bow Men were known for their silent and deadly treetop assaults. This man didn’t look like he could climb a tree.
The trader came out of nowhere and grasped my neck, forcing my head down so sharply that pain exploded in my neck. “I’ll pluck those pretty eyes out of your head if you can’t keep your face down.”
I hissed, balling my hands into fists behind me. This rat bastard was really starting to piss me off. I’d been sold into servitude yes, but that didn’t mean I was a punching bag. I was about to give him a piece of my mind when he let go.
I stumbled forward. My face felt hot, I was so angry, but I inhaled sharply, taking deep breaths to calm down.
We were funneled through a hall which was as ornate and decorated as the outside of the castle, and then into a large open storeroom with towering ceilings that rose two stories high. Bags of flour and rice sat in the corner, and piles of pots and pans were stacked in another. We lined up against the far wall and I looked upward at the windows atop the second floor to see some people staring down on us.
Our new masters?
I didn’t know the first thing about being a servant. I’d never had one. But I knew how to cook and clean, so it couldn’t be much more different than that.
Right?
“You will be unbound so that the lead maid can check you for diseases, then you will be assigned into your new jobs here in the palace,” the trader yelled, snapping me from my thoughts. “If you try to run, I will kill you and your debt will fall to your next remaining family member.”
We were going to work here in the palace? That was kind of exciting. I eyed the stack of flour and rice and ho ped I wasn’t relegated to the kitchens. I didn’t mind cooking, but doing dishes was Hades. Soggy food creeped me out. I’d love to be assigned to the library or even to work with the healers. As a half elf with zero training I had no healing ability myself, but I’d love to learn and help in any small way.
At Nightfall University I’d been studying biology so that I could find a cure for my aunt, but that was all gone now. Almost two entire years of classes and homework and studies, all for nothing.
My shackles unclicked and I rolled my shoulders, groaning at the painful release in my chest from being tied like that for several hours of the journey. For a split second I wanted to run, wanted to bolt like a bunny rabbit across the room, outside and into the woods. I eyed the doors and there, on each side, were two Bow Men. They stood tall and silent, barely moving to breathe, with an arrow already nocked into their bows.
I gulped.
An old woman entered the room then, her white hair tied into a sleek bun atop her head. She wore a blue cotton maid’s uniform with a white apron, and held a small stick in her hand.
“My name is Mrs. Tirth. I am the lead maid here at Archmere Castle. I will be checking you for lice and making sure you don’t have any deformities that would keep you from doing your job here.”
Lice? Gross. I eyed the girl next to me, who scratched her head.
There were nine of us in all, a mix of elf, fae, and human—the castle must have purchased us in bulk for various jobs. I didn’t want to overstep, but I really wanted to work with the healers or around books if possible.
Biting my tongue, I waited until Mrs. Tirth used her stick to poke and prod everyone’s hair and check in their mouths and peer closely at their hands and feet, until she got to me. When she did, I deeply curtsied. “Mrs. Tirth, would it be inappropriate to offer a list of strengths so that you might best fit us with our jobs?”
The old woman raised an eyebrow at me and then glanced up into the viewing box, where a few hooded figures still looked down on us.
“Strengths?” she asked as she began to dig through my brown hair with the stick.
“Yes, ma’am. I can read and write. I’m adept at calculus and organic chemistry, and have a passion for reading and healing.”
The stick froze, tangled in my hair, and the woman stared down at me. I braced myself for her reaction but she just burst out into laughter. The trader cackled too, as well as the other slaves, and now everyone was laughing at me.
“Honey, I just need you to make bread or clean the toilets,” Mrs. Tirth said, and my stomach fell.
Well, it was worth a shot.
I felt the trader move behind me. “Want me to check her for pubic lice?” He huffed and then his hand landed on my ass and squeezed.
Hard.
Mrs. Tirth looked affronted at the trader’s comment, but I knew she’d do nothing about it.
Every angry, repressed feeling I’d been holding in since the bankers had come and taken me away from my aunt exploded out of me then. A vengeful rage washed over me and I snapped. Spinning, I faced the ugly trader. He gazed down at me with lusty eyes and I snapped my palm upward into his nose just like my auntie had taught me, and was rewarded with the crunch of bone. He bent forward to grab his face and I reached up with my knee, smashing it as hard as I could into his man parts.
A wail cut through the room and he fell to the side, red-faced.
“Oh dear,” Mrs. Tirth said behind me.
I spun to face the head servant. “He touched my backside without permission. Is that encouraged here?” I asked her, hoping to talk myself out of whatever punishment was about to come my way for retaliating against the trader.
Her face flushed and I noticed movement above in the window. One of the hooded figures was leaving the room. I knew I’d gone too far, but dammit, what the trader did wasn’t okay and I was hoping Mrs. Tirth would agree. Woman to woman.
She swallowed hard. “It is not,” she finally said.
The two Bow Men were suddenly behind me, hooking me under the armpits and dragging me towards the doors.
Crap, where did they come from?
I tried to struggle in their grasp but it was no use. They lifted me into the air, pinched something in my armpit to cause a whimper from my throat, and carried me as if I were made of parchment.
My heart pounded in my chest and I turned to one of them. “He grabbed me, you must have seen. I didn’t kill him or anything,” I pleaded.
The double doors opened and then I was being walked down the ornately decorated hallway and into another room, this one smaller and with a man sitting behind a desk, a gray cloak pulled up to obscure his identity.
“Okay, I’m obviously new here, so now that I know the rules maybe we can give me a free pass,” I begged. I didn’t want to be hanged for kneeing the trader in the balls, but I couldn’t let that fly. The Bow Men dropped me before the desk and then left the room.
I stood there, frozen, as I stared at the person in the cloak. “I—”
“You talk too much. We will need to work on that.” His voice was gruff, powerful, and I immediately knew I was in the presence of someone in charge.
“Yes… sir. I can do that. Assuming you let me live?” I wasn’t sure what was going on here.
The man reached up with long slender fingers and pulled back the cloak, revealing the strong jaw and handsome face of the freaking king of the elves.
“Raife Lightstone,” I breathed, curtsying deeply.
His blue eyes ran over my body as if assessing my curtsy, and my cheeks reddened.
“Your curtsy indicates you come from a highborn family,” he observed.
We didn’t really have highborns in Nightfall. Educated and uneducated was what we called it, and ninety percent of the people were educated in Nightfall because the queen mandated it and made it free. I was considered poor but highly educated, so for all intents and purposes a highborn in his mind.
“Yes, my lord,” I said, trying to keep my answers short since he’d said I spoke too much.
He stood and I froze, taken aback by how lanky he was, at least a head and a half taller than me, and that was saying something as I was tall for a woman. He stepped out from behind the desk and faced me. “What’s your name?”
“Kailani Dulane, sir.”
“Are you aware of the one gift that all the kings of Avalier share?” he asked, and I knew where this was going.
Oh Maker.
I swallowed hard. King Valdren of the dragon-folk, King Lucien Thorne of the fae, King Axil Moon of the wolven, and King Raife Lightstone of the elves, all had the gift of smelling a lie.
“You can smell a lie,” I said.
He looked surprised. “You are well educated.”
The Nightfall library had books on every magical race. It was all to aid in the queen’s plot to eradicate them. The more we knew about them, the more we could hurt them and eventually wipe them out.
“I’m going to ask you a series of questions, and based on your answers it will determine your fate,” he said, walking in a slow circle around me.
Dizziness washed over me but I nodded.
He inhaled through his nose. “Half elf?” he asked, sounding pleased.
“Yes, lord. My father,” was all I said, trying to be brief as possible.
“His name?”
I swallowed hard. “Rufus Dulane. He lived in the fishing village of King’s Burrow.”
He nodded, seemingly pleased with that answer.
“Why were you sold into servitude?” he asked.
I sighed. “I took a loan I could not repay.”
“Obviously.” He sounded annoyed with my shallow answer. “What for?”
I didn’t like the intrusiveness of the question but knew I must answer and truthfully. My life was in his hands. “For life-saving medication for my aunt.”
His brow knotted in confusion. He would be perplexed at that. People in Archmere didn’t need medication. If they got sick they were healed. For free. It was as easy as breathing for them.
“Did you know you would not be able to repay the loan when you took it?” he questioned.
I growled slightly then, my gaze flicking to his and holding it. “Yes,” I said with annoyance. “To save my aunt.”
He seemed to consider my response.
“What are your thoughts on the elvin race?”
