The moment they stepped out of the caravan, countless gazes turned toward them.

Elves lined the streets—tall, graceful, and unnervingly still. Their eyes followed every movement of the humans who had just entered their city. Some looked on with faint curiosity, others with quiet disdain, but most simply watched in silence, as if studying creatures they had only heard about in stories.

Edward could feel it—their eyes, their presence. Even the air felt different here, heavier yet cleaner, as if the forest itself were alive and watching.

Within moments, a small group of elves approached.

"Welcome to Valendell," said one of them. His voice was calm and deliberate. "My name is Elandir."

He wore armour unlike anything Edward had seen before—metallic yet light, engraved with swirling patterns that seemed to shift when the light hit them. His long pale hair swayed in the mountain breeze, and his features were sharp, symmetrical and almost unreal.

Each elf behind him looked the same way—perfect and expressionless, like marble statues given life.

Next to Elandir stood a woman.

Silver hair cascaded down her shoulders, gleaming like spun moonlight. Silver ornaments decorated her elongated ears, and thin chains intertwined through her hair. Her dress was a shade of deep forest green, made of some thin, mesh-like fabric that shimmered softly with every step she took. Cutouts revealed the smooth curve of her legs and the faint line of her collarbone—yet the way she carried herself made it feel more ceremonial than revealing.

"Is that the princess Arthur is meant to marry?" Edward wondered, but before the thought could settle, the woman spoke.

"My name is Elarien, High Emissary of Valendell. By the Queen's grace, I shall serve as your guide within our kingdom."

Her voice was calm, each word deliberate and measured.

She then turned toward Arthur, offering the faintest of bows.

"I must say, we did not expect your royal highness to arrive so early."

Arthur smiled, polite and princely as always. "Ah, yes, my apologies. I thought it best to arrive sooner—to settle before the wedding."

Elarien gave a small nod. "Very well. You shall be shown to your chambers first. His Majesty will receive you tonight for the royal dinner."

Without further words, the group began to move.

Elarien motioned to Aeris, Seraphine, and Arthur's sister. "You will accompany me. The Queen has prepared quarters for the women of the convoy."

The rest—Arthur, Edward, and the royal guards—were led in the opposite direction by Elandir.

Seraphine's eyes darted toward Edward. "We're splitting up?" she whispered.

Edward caught her look and gave a small shake of his head. "Tradition," he murmured quietly.

It was best not to argue here—not in front of the elves, not when they might need their help against the Crimson Oath.

The elven streets wound upward along the mountainside, paved with stones that glowed faintly under the fading sunlight. Water flowed through narrow channels beside the roads, glimmering silver as it trickled past wooden bridges and spiraling roots.

The buildings seemed to grow out of the landscape itself—homes of smooth, pale wood intertwined with vines and crystal-like glass. Some even hung suspended from enormous branches, connected by bridges of woven bark.

By the time they reached the western edge of Valendell, the view opened up completely. Below them, the forest stretched endlessly—shades of green fading into the horizon.

"This will be your chambers," Elandir said, stopping before a structure that clung to the edge of the cliff. "I will return later to fetch you for the royal dinner."

Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away, vanishing into the descending mist.

Edward couldn't help but notice how far from the city center they had been taken, as if hidden from other elves.

He looked at Arthur. "I didn't expect this," he admitted.

Arthur gave a short laugh. "You mean the distrust?"

Edward nodded slightly.

"Don't take it personally," Arthur said, running a hand through his hair. "Elves have long memories. The royal family sent more than one assassin into their lands over the centuries. They have every right to be cautious."

He paused, glancing toward the horizon. "It'll change after the wedding. It has to."

Edward followed him inside.

The interior was surprisingly modest. Smooth wooden walls curved gently inward, meeting in a high, rounded ceiling. Green light filtered through a canopy of vines hanging across the windows. The furniture was carved entirely from pale wood—seamless, grown rather than built. A faint herbal scent filled the air, soothing and cool.

It wasn't bad, not at all, but Edward couldn't help but feel that it was a little too modest for someone like a prince to stay at.

Arthur, however, didn't linger and dropped onto a low couch, stretching out with a long sigh.

Edward raised a brow. "You don't seem bothered."

"Bothered?" Arthur chuckled. "Not even a little. I'll take this over being back home and watching that woman bewitch my father."

He crossed his arms behind his head and closed his eyes, enjoying a moment of peace.

Edward said nothing. He leaned back against the wall, letting the silence settle. The air here was different—thicker somehow, but purer. He couldn't tell if it was the forest, the altitude, or something magical. But whatever it was, it calmed him in a way that few things had in a long time.

Minutes slipped into hours. The sun sank low, painting the world in gold and crimson.

Outside, faint lights flickered to life across the city—tiny orbs of pale blue that floated above the streets, guiding the elves through the twilight.

Still, no one came to fetch them for the royal dinner.

Arthur glanced at the door. "You think they forgot about us?"

Edward shook his head. "I doubt that they would forget their guest of honour."

He was just about to stand when—

Knock! Knock!

The sound echoed softly through the wooden room.

Edward moved first, opening the door without delay.

Elarien stood in the doorway, the faint glow from the city lights reflecting in her silver hair. Her gaze flicked between the two of them, brows narrowing slightly.

"Did Elandir not come to fetch you?"

"No…?" Edward replied with a hint of confusion.

Her expression shifted just slightly—enough for him to see a hint of displeasure, or maybe suspicion. She turned her head, looking briefly toward the misty walkway outside, then back at them.

"No matter," she said, her tone returning to calm. "Please follow me. His Majesty is waiting."

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