Iron Elf - A Race Reborn (Book 2) Read Online Free PDF

to beat up.”
     
    “I do not lurk. I patrol.”
     
    He rolled his eyes. “If you put half as much effort into your love life… I’m simply looking out for you. Your mother and I were expecting you at the opera.”
     
    “Heh. I told you I’d be there, didn’t I? It’s not like you’re having Angrod followed.”
     
    He said nothing, only steepled his fingers.
     
    “You are having him followed, aren’t you?”
     
    “I am aware of him, shall we say. It’s nothing personal—Angrod is a nice enough boy. It’s what he represents that’s dangerous.”
     
    “A nice enough boy?”

    “He’s a decent boss and a brave man in an emergency. He also has a hard time taking his duties seriously. I disapprove of his taking the throne, to say nothing of dating you.”
     
    “You don’t think he’ll make a good king?”
     
    “I have no idea. The point is, the realm has plenty of good leaders and decent men. Some of them are even in government. Meanwhile, apart from Angrod’s questionable ancestry, there’s nothing special about him. Somehow, he deserves to run a kingdom?”
     
    “You’re just worried that you might have to answer to him.”
     
    “No one man should have all that power, least of all someone who hasn’t earned it. That’s why I have contingency plans. For instance, if you marry Angrod that’ll give me some influence over him.”
     
    I stood up. “So that’s the plan? Either make him a son-in-law or—or a corpse? And you’d use me as bait either way?”
     
    He looked pained. “I couldn’t ever hurt you. Corinthe was the work of a rogue agent. Angrod’s friend took care of him, and the rest were killed or otherwise dealt with. I made sure.”
     
    “And you’ll never try to have Angrod killed?”
     
    He took my hands. “As long as you have affection for him, I will not harm him.”
     
    I hated this. Too much was left unsaid. Was I talking to Findecano the father, or Findecano the politician? “Can we change the subject? I’m sure there are lots of other things we can talk about. Those rings, for instance.”
     
    “Oh, you noticed?”
     
    “Daddy, you haven’t changed your hairstyle in a hundred years. Of course I noticed! Also, they’re kind of chunky.”
     
    “They are, aren’t they?” He raised his hand. The ring was on his middle finger. “Nevertheless, I like them. I think they go with my eyes.”
    “Aren’t you too old for a midlife crisis?”
    “Never.”
     

     
    Sixteen years ago:
    In the forest of Corinthe we rode in darkness and in silence. No one spoke. We had miles to go and nobody had slept. Tired as we were, the end of our journey drew near. My men and I had ridden across the realm and encountered danger and death. Barbarians had attacked and we had lost three men. But now our quarry’s home city was days away.
     
    We were the task force charged with the capture of Angrod Veneanar—pretender to the throne, were-dragon, and murderer. He had escaped me once. I promised myself he would not do so again.
     
    Someone coughed. Someone muttered. No one likes a forced march, especially on the darkest night of the year. There was no moon and little starlight. All of us were using our elven Sight just to follow the narrow trail.
     
    I looked around. The woods looked lonely in my enhanced vision. I saw snowflakes gently drifting. Feanaro sidled up. “What are you thinking, lieutenant?”
     
    My Sight made his blue skin look like milk, his eyes like pools of tar. I controlled my breathing and adjusted my Sight. His skin turned transparent and his bones started glowing. That was a little better.
     
    “I’m thinking I’d rather be alone,” I told the elven skeleton. I was used to this vision mode, but something was off. I hadn’t trust my second-in-command since he’d propositioned me. He had been the perfect gentleman ever since, but it still made me uneasy. “And shouldn’t you be on point?”
     
    “There’s nothing ahead for miles,” he