Chapter 238: Be My Wife
[9 Years After Meeting]
Loraven returned late into the evening to the ice palace, her body fatigued from her travel to southern kingdoms not known on their maps. Since Selvin survived the unknown attempt on his life, and Loraven declined Theoden’s proposal and escaped a fate by Gunnalf, the Lyvarian Princess travelled far and wide. Her mother could not bear to look at her and instead sent her on impossible missions.
Loraven assumed Iolena wished for her death. She was nothing more than a disappointment. But their people loved her. She had always worked hard for them, remaining humble and treating her people well.
Since sending Loraven on these missions, her name was becoming more renowned, returning with wild stories spoken of around campfires. The princess did not know why she returned this time. The comforts of her home, like a comfortable, warm bed and food, were a few factors that brought her back after months of being a nomad.
Not to mention the servants. If a bit of hostility and occasional threats were all she needed to put up with until her next mission, then it didn’t seem so bad. King Nuvian, her father, didn’t seem to mind, considering he was the crueller of the two. His eyes did not send glacial daggers her way whenever Loraven entered the room, and somehow she had grown closer to him over the years.
Only by a small amount, though. Loraven was still an unworthy child of the throne, to those of nobility, that was. She didn’t know what Gunnalf promised them in return for her marriage, but in declining Theoden, she kept up appearances of their friendship by visiting once every two years. This kept her parents and Theoden satisfied.
Loraven was basically Theoden’s hostage for the entire time, and her parents did not mind one bit. It kept everyone happy, and Loraven experienced an entirely different life then, making her thrilled she declined his proposal. Not only that, she could not move on from prince- no, King Selvin. He remained on her mind almost daily, and her heart pinched whenever she wondered about him.
It had been nine years; Selvin was sitting on the throne and most likely had a queen by his side and at least one or two children by now. While Loraven’s heart had grown cold since watching him go. She remained the same, living a fun and thrilling life but found it seemingly pointless when there was nobody to share it with.
Loraven did not ask about the King, what his life was like and how the kingdom was doing. It was too painful, and she had to keep up this charade that collapsed years ago. The snow elf was no longer as closed-minded and cold towards humans as she used to be.
Whenever Loraven came upon one, they reminded her of him, and she wondered what he was doing there and then. Had he grown further into his looks? Was he wiser? Did he grow a beard or a bigger belly?
Loraven sighed heavily, trudging through the palace, shaking off the snow from her furry hood. It was nearing summer, but the snow remained. It never left, but the icy lakes did thin, and those walking among it like the fools they were found themselves slipping through and never surfacing again.