I scoff. "Is this your pathetic way of making amends with me? You had your chance, godfather. Your words will not sway me."

"I am not asking you, Miranna. I am telling you." My godfather answers calmly. If he was indeed angry, either he chose not to show it or he was too tired and depressed to express any emotion.

"May I remind you that I was raised in a forest, not a kingdom? And that I was raised by the rules of survival, not royalty? I am no queen, godfather."

"Then perhaps you and your friend should rest, Miranna. Maybe you'll change your mind afterwards."

Once again, I am whisked away from my godfather of a King by two maids. They lead me to a chamber where I was stripped of my clothes and dumped in scalding, hot water.

I do my best not to scream under the heat of the water, which is beyond compare to the lava of Mount Doom. Next, they pour a sweet smelling concoction scented with rose and lavender, both which clashed with each other, making my stomach swim. Before I could even tell the maids to stop, they scrub my skin aggressively with a large brush with bristles like warg hair.

I shut my eyes, protecting them from the stench of the soap. Once again, hot water was poured all over me like a waterfall. This time, I yelp, but the maids say nothing.

"My lady, please put this on." A young maid hands me a robe, which I wear gratefully. "Follow me to your room." she says, showing me the way.

I follow her, walking past tapestries and paintings while making several turns. I stop in front of one painting, a portrait of a she-elf.

Her dark silver hair, which was tied in a braid, fell just below her shoulders. The blue dress she wore complimented her snow pale skin, which seemed to glow faintly. Although her smile warmed the painting, her piercing blue eyes suggested that she was more than just a portrait.

"That's your mother." The elf maid says. "I always looked up to her as a young elf."

"My mother?" I raise a brow. What did she know about my mother?

"I wanted to wield magic, just like her. Instead, I came to work for the king." She sighs longingly.

"How does he rule?"

"Well, the death of your mother took a great toll on his health, mentally and physically." She explains, continuing on leading me to my room. "His heart's not in it anymore, though. The people know and they need a new ruler to guide them."

But I am no ruler, I say in my head. I do not care what my godfather thinks of me, I am not fit to rule a kingdom. Only by his death alone should I rule in his stead.

"Here is your room, my lady." The maid announces, showing me the door. " Your clothes are lying on your bed. If you need anything, you may ring the bell."

"Thank you..." I trail off, not knowing the maid's name.

"Serenis." She smiles. "It's a pleasure to meet the daughter of Nerine."

I open the door and close it behind me gently, smiling. My smile soon turns into a gasp as soon as I faced my room.

A bed on the left side of the large, spacious chamber looked as if it could fit a family of eight. Across from it sat a dresser, neatly stocked with mysterious sweet-smelling creams and powders. A mirror lined the wall, reflecting the room it faced. On its right stood a tall closet with intricately carved designs. Inside, my clothes hung from a rack along with other dresses for numerous occasions.

What steals my gaze were the double doors that led to a balcony, overlooking the sea. I open both doors, letting the ocean breeze into my room.

I walk to the railing and lean against it, admiring the view of the ocean. It spread out before me, wide and inviting. Tall ships graced the surface, cutting through the water like shears cutting through cloth. Young elves play near the shore, screaming in joy whenever the gray water touches their ankles. Perhaps I wouldn't mind ruling over Delmaris after all.

"My lady?" Serenis asks from the door. "Your dinner is ready. Would you like me to show you to the dining room?"

I nod, but I don't say anything. Serenis and I walk to the dining room, making conversation with each other.

"Your friend, that handsome Mirkwood elf, what connection do you two share?" She asks abruptly, changing the subject.

I cock my head to the side. "Why do you ask?"

"He seems like a nice fellow, although I've never met a Mirkwood elf before. What is he like?"

I laugh, hiding my suspicions from Serenis. Legolas and I have only been here for an hour and she is already showing an interest in him? A pang of jealousy spreads through me, but disappears as soon as it has appeared.

"Well, he is a nice fellow." I start. "He's... interesting."

"Like how?"

I think of ways to describe Legolas. He could be quite bothersome at times, cracking jokes whenever he pleased. Yet, there was something about him and the way he cares for others that made me feel a sort of tender curiosity towards him.

"Here is the dining room, my lady." Serenis gestures to the open door.

"Will you not dine with us?" I ask. "I find myself quite comfortable talking to you."

The elf maid smiles sadly. "I'm sorry Miranna, but the maids are to dine in a separate area. I cannot eat with the king unless he allows me to."

I frown. "Alright. Thank you for showing me around the palace."

"It is my pleasure." She bows. Serenis turns to leave then pauses, turning around. "You know, I've never seen the king any happier since you've arrived."

I scrunch my brows together. "Would I not bring the opposite?"

"You are his goddaughter. He's never been any happier seeing one of his family members alive and well, even though you two are not related by blood."

At that she leaves, leaving me pondering about my godfather. Happy? My godfather is... happy? I brush the thought aside and take my place at the dining table.

King Deltus and Legolas talk amongst each other while eating their dishes. The King notices my presence and smiles.

"Miranna! How lovely of you to join us. Would you care for some seafood?" He gestures to the variety of cooked sea creatures that were either grilled, steamed, herbed, salted, or fried. A bowl of seaweed mixed with other vegetables and savory glaze sits beside the main courses as a healthier option.

My stomach growls upon sight of the food. I helped myself to some seaweed salad and herbed fish, growing more hungry the longer I look upon it. As I was about to tuck into my meal using my bare hands as usual, I noticed the King intently staring at me, watching my every move. I blush and pick up a fork, using it to the best of my ability. Because there were no utensils provided in the forest, I was used to using my bare hands to eat. But here, I was subject to using utensils by the own stare of my godfather.

Legolas, on the other hand, beams at me then continues eating his seaweed salad. I think back to my recent conversation with Serenis and sip my drink, deep in thought.

"So Miranna, how did you and Legolas come upon Delmaris?" King Deltus asks.

I spit my drink back into my goblet in an unladylike manner as Legolas chokes on his salad. We look at each other, unsure of what to say or how to explain.

"We were ambushed by orcs." Legolas speaks up. "Miranna suggested that we come here for hospitality."

My godfather turns to me, brow raised. "Interesting. Why didn't you come to Delmaris any sooner, Miranna?" I gulp, unable to think of a reasonable explanation. Why didn't I come to Delmaris sooner?

"I-I didn't come because I was... afraid." I answer. "I was afraid that everyone would be scared of me or turn me away b-because- because of this."

I unhide my scar, letting my godfather see it for the first time. The vision in my right eye slowly disappears, masking everything to my right in total darkness.

"My mother, Nerine, taught me the illusion spell." I explain with hesitation. "But after that night, I was too much in shock to remember. At first, I did what anyone else would do and went from town to town, asking for help and hospitality. I suppose I visited the wrong houses." I laugh bitterly.

"Some villagers were kind enough to clean and stitch my wound. But most would slam their door in my face and scream." I continue. "Would anyone want to take care of an orphaned elf? Much less a scarred, ugly one? I think not. So I went back into the forest where my parents died and learned from myself. Day by day, my mother's illusion spell would return to me in dreams or in the songs I sang to myself until I finally mastered it. I taught myself everything from then on and kept to myself." 

His eyes widen in horror at the sight of his scarred goddaughter, then softens. "Miranna," he starts, holding back tears of either guilt or anger. "I know an apology will not fix your scar, nor bring back your parents. I cannot imagine the pain you went through after all these years. I do not know whatever I must do to redeem myself from being such a groundless godfather. But what I can do is let you stay here for however long you like, if you and Legolas want."

I nod, processing my godfather's words. It was not exactly an apology, but it was enough to lift the corners of my lips into a small smile.