To all my readers, I am so sorry for the recent silence. Life has been a bit overwhelming, and I haven't been able to post as I would have liked. The good news is, I'm back and ready to share more of our journey in THE ELFLAND with you all. Thank you for sticking with me. I can't wait for you to see what's next.
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CHAPTER 47
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Imperial Court Hall
The stubbornness of Princess Elva weighs heavily on the Elflord.
He presses his fingertips to his forehead and exhales slowly with eyes closed.
The Royal Advisor—though inwardly pleased to see the Emperor so vexed—chokes back a tiny cackle.
When the Elflord's sharp gaze snaps toward him, he instantly composes himself, expression smooth and dutiful once more.
Three days pass.
Ernest—now almost fully recovered—limps patiently across the courtyard toward Elva.
He starts to open his arms for an embrace, then remembers something.
His arms lower slowly; he forces a delighted smile instead.
Ernest: Sister Elvÿ, I sent word not to worry… yet here you are.
Elva: Why would I not worry? You were punished by the creatures of the Black Garden, and your elder brother—rather than showing concern—simply turned a deaf ear. How could he—?!
Ernest: (Eyes fixed on the ground) I am no longer a child. It is only reasonable for me to be mindful of my actions… and my health.
Elva: You were born under the Red Birth Star, and you are just four years younger than I. So how are you not a child? Since when did you stop being one?
Ernest: (Closing his eyes, voice soft) Ever since Elder Bro— (he pauses) …ever since His Majesty returned.
Elva: (Overhearing) The fact that Alf punished you for your mistake—I support him in that. But the fact that your childhood is being stripped away—I do NOT support. Who does he think he is, trying to💢🔥—?!
Ernest: (Glancing up instantly) Let me teach you how to ride a horse.
Elva: How does that have to do with 🔥🔥—?!
Ernest: You will need it when the time comes to fight my cousin. (Elva tries to protest, but he presses on) Your fear of riding will be overcome… and it will also repay you for the Recuperation Pill you gave me.
Elva: Ernest, I'm not done talking to you—
Ernest: (Already walking away) Come on, Sister Elvÿ.
Imperial Stables
Elva approaches in her riding attire.
Ernest: Pfft. Elder sister? I told you to wear something proper—not to dress like a male. I can see some servants drooling, not knowing your real gender.
Elva: What else do you want me to wear? It's not my fault they can't resist my handsomeness.
She lifts her shoulders in mock arrogance; Ernest chuckles despite himself.
Elva: So how do you plan to teach me when your legs are still useless?
She glances pointedly at his bandaged limbs.
Ernest: I'm not the one teaching you.
Elva: Hm?
Right then, the Elflord rides up on his fine brown stallion.
Elva shoots Ernest a raised-eyebrow look that clearly says "Seriously?"
She turns to walk away—only for the Elflord's left forearm to hook around her waist and lift her effortlessly onto the saddle in front of him.
Terror seizes her.
She scrambles to swing her other leg over, gripping the horse's mane in both fists.
Elva: (Trembling) Let me down.
Ernest: Be calm, Sister Elvÿ. This is His Majesty's loyal steed.
He pats the horse's flank.
It flinches.
Elva—terrified—clutches the reins and mane even tighter.
Elva: (Voice quavering) Easy, little one…
The horse shakes itself.
Elva shrieks.
Elva: Don't move!! Please!
Amid her panic, the Elflord leans in, gently inhaling the scent of her hair with his nose and lips.
A distinct, amused crackle escapes him as he toys lightly with the strands.
Elva: (Aware of his mockery) A-Alf… don't go too far. If… if you don't want to regret…
The enchanting Elflord brings his breath to her left ear, whispering each word with deliberate slowness.
His lips brush the shell of her ear; his hands glide tenderly down her arms.
Elflord: You are bold when you cause trouble… yet so sweet when you fear. (He presses his lips closer) Which makes me desire more.
Ernest: (To a nearby male servant) Prepare my seat.
Elva: (Trembling harder) Alf… Alf… Your Majesty! If you do not want more trouble, let me down… or else…
Elflord: (Whispering even closer) Shush. If that is your wish… then allow me to fulfil it.
He interlocks his fingers with hers over the reins.
With a gentle pull, the horse surges into a gallop.
Elva screams at the top of her lungs, eyes squeezed shut.
Gradually, the wind brushes her face; she feels the steady support of the Elflord's palms over her hands.
She dares to open her eyes—and begins to move with the rhythm.
They ride across the open field.
Ernest cheers her on from the sidelines.
Passing the shed, she flashes a proud grin at Ernest and at His Majesty… wait—His Majesty?
She glances back.
To her stunned disbelief, the Elflord is lounging casually in a saddle chair behind them—calmly reading state documents.
Elva stares forward again.
An awkward twitch flickers across her eye, followed by a strangled sound.
Quietness.
Two seconds.
Then Elva's scream rips through the fields.
As if on cue, the horse surges faster.
Ernest: Oh-oh.
Elva tries to seize the reins—but the horse bucks violently and throws her off.
It rears, forelegs rising to crush her.
Ernest: Sister Elvÿ!!
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