Spirit Speaker

The next day the ballroom was packed again, though this time the guests were seated at long tables, groaning with food. 

The royal family sat at the far end of the room, on a dias that overlooked the feasters. 

Joining them were the merchant delegation, looking dismayed, and Count Dreth and his family, looking elated. 

Negotiations were going well. 

I had flat-out refused to join them. I didn't need the extra attention that would come if the nobles saw a servant, the princess's teacher, seated, eating and drinking with the royal family. 

Instead, I stood on the second floor, watching everyone below. 

Light, music, laughter, everything on the floor beneath me screamed joy and happiness. 

I sat down, and pulled the hair from my eyes, tying it back with the green band that the princess had given me. 

"Master Lukas?" A servant stepped beside me. He was tall, and thin, with the telltale high cheekbones, almond-shaped eyes and clean-shaven face that marked him as a half-elf. 

"Yes?" I said, pointing at the chair next to me.

The servant sat down. 

"The princess again requested that you join them on the floor."

I looked over to the head table and saw the princess glaring at me from the bottom. 

I shook my head. 

She pulled her tongue out at me. 

I pulled mine back. 

She closed her eyes, concentrating for a moment. 

A spirit appeared beside me and started telling me off, loudly. 

I batted it away and raised a finger, a ball of water appearing above it. 

The princess's face turned white, and the spirit vanished. 

I let the water dissipate. 

The half-elf next to me laughed. "It's true what they say then, sir. You are fearless."

I shook my head. "You can't let them walk over you, or they will keep doing it."

"As you say, sir."

"What's your name, half-elf?" I asked, turning back to my companion. 

"Graveth, sir."

"Clan?"

"I haven't been claimed, but I would be of clan Brightsun."

I nodded sadly, a reality for far too many half-elves. We were too human for the elves, too elvish for the humans. 

"What are the servants doing tonight?"

"They'll be holding a party themselves, in the servant quarters."

"Would you mind if I joined?"

Graveth didn't reply. 

"Graveth?"

"I'm…not sure that's such a good idea, sir. Your presence will only serve to dampen the festivities."

I smiled. "See? It's not that hard to punch above your weight class, Graveth."

I was a little disappointed. I was in an unenviable position. Ranked too high for the servants, ranked too low for the nobles. "We half-elves are cursed to straddle two worlds, and not belong to either." 

"Yes sir." 

"Let me not keep you from the festivities, Graveth."

The servant nodded and withdrew. 

I looked back at the head table, and this time caught the king's eye, who grinned at me and pointed to the musicians. 

A slender, blonde half-elf stepped up to the stage and began to sing. 

I knew her. 

Salea. 

Her song was an old song, a soldier's song, a song of longing for home. One that every servant, every warrior, every soul in the room could relate to. 

She had chosen well, her voice clear and sweet, and the room went silent as she sang, and when the song ended, there was not a dry eye present. 

And then a noise. A clap here, a clap there, then more, and more and more until the whole room echoed with applause.

The half-elf bowed and stepped off the stage. 

She's done well for herself. 

The applause died down, and the music resumed, and after a while the talking continued. 

I stood up, and with one last look at the king's table, I returned to my rooms. 

Where Salea was waiting for me.