Chapter 190: The Elven Sacred Ground—Elfo Sagrado (3)
“Come on, have a seat.” Arkemis pulled out a chair and gestured with an inviting smile.
Ketal eased into the chair, sinking into the plush softness of its expensive cushion. The chair’s craftsmanship was impeccable—each curve, each detail, evidence of the High Elves’ aesthetic sense and skill. Arkemis deftly opened the bottle of elven liquor, and instantly, a fragrant aroma wafted out, floral and sharp, filling the room with a hint of some wild, ancient forest.
“The scent is wonderful,” Ketal remarked, breathing it in deeply.
“This is a rare vintage—something only High Elves are allowed to drink. Consider it a privilege,” Arkemis teased, pouring the liquor into crystalline glasses that sparkled in the lamplight.
“I appreciate the honor. Connections like these are worth cherishing,” Ketal replied, his eyes glinting with warmth.
Their eyes met, a momentary silence passing between them. In that pause, Arkemis regarded Ketal with quiet intensity.
Ketal..., she thought, her heart unexpectedly heavy. For the first time, she found someone who felt truly right. Someone she could imagine walking beside for years—perhaps forever.
Being a High Elf meant living in unbroken solitude. They were born in their perfected forms beneath the World Tree, and apart from the tree itself, nothing else truly mattered. Bonds of friendship or even familial affection did not exist for High Elves.
Only the High Elf Queen, wielding the authority and charisma of her station, could exercise any real influence over the others—and even that was often no more than a gentle suggestion. High Elves ultimately followed only their own will.
Arkemis had always disliked that aspect of her people. She had dreamed, ever since she was small, of a life like those told in human fairy tales—a life with friends and laughter, with shared meals and whispered secrets. She wanted to experience genuine camaraderie, to have people she could rely on and who could rely on her in return. More than anything, she wanted a family. She wanted to know what it meant to have a child.
The mechanics of it were no mystery to her—she knew the biological details as well as anyone. She was no naïve girl, after all. However, the meaning was what eluded her. It was not the outcome—bearing a child—that she truly wanted, but the process. She longed for love—a deep, passionate, mutual affection where feelings flowed freely and each person was transformed by the other.
For that, she had chosen Ketal. He was the only one who saw her, not as an oddity or as a mere embodiment of power, but simply as herself. He talked to her easily. He listened, truly listened, and when she spoke of her dreams and frustrations, he understood. He accepted her being a High Elf without any of the awkwardness or reverence that others often showed. Even the natural intimidation he had to have felt in her presence never stopped him from treating her as an equal.