Bride of Alvar (Redemption Saga, Book 1)

Chapter 4

As we near the city center, the houses become grander, and at the end of the street is a magnificent gate with giant gold columns on either side. Ornate carvings of angelic figures lit up by enormous lamps line the city streets.

"Once we go through the gates you will be introduced to my chief of house. His name is Fletch," Alvar says formally. "Be polite. He is a gobli, but nothing like the fiends you met at your apartment. Fletch is a dear friend and a person of great power here. He acts as regent whenever I'm away."

We approach two watchtowers on either side of the columns. Alvar signals to one of the guards on duty, and a door opens at the base of one of the towers. Our mytonirs trot through.

The mentioned, Fletch, is not what I expected. Short, with long pointy ears, and skin covered in what appear to be warts, it's hard not to do a double take. I can't make out the true color of his skin in the blue light of the lanterns, but his frame is stout as much as short, and his nose is large and hooks at the end. He wears a smart tunic with a belt.

"Alvar," Fletch says with a grin, exposing dozens of pointy teeth. I try not to wince at the little gremlin. So often I'd seen creatures similar in appearance to Fletch portrayed in fiction and movies as the baddies.

I can't quite shake that unfortunate mental stereotype.

Dammit, does this make me an innate racist here?

"Fletch, it is good to see you." Alvar grins back at him. "I trust everything went smoothly while I was away?"

"Yes," Fletch snuffles the words, he gazes up at me with two beady black eyes. "You brought back the earth maiden in one piece I see?"

"Just barely," Alvar says dryly. "Apparently Maggort made a plan to abduct her, but he took the wrong woman."

"Maggort?" Fletch growls the word. "I can't believe his gall. Did he think you'd look upon him kindly for such an act? I'm sure you can dethrone Remora for it."

"She'll claim it was Maggort's doing and not under her orders," Alvar mutters. "Sadly, it will be impossible to prove her wrong."

"Aye," Fletch mutters and spits in disgust.

I try to stop gawking at Fletch. He's just so different than anything I've seen, yet so real at the same time and despite that realism I half expect him to unzip himself from a costume.

If this is all a dream, I've quite the imagination.

"Hm, she's quiet," Fletch says in reference to me with a laugh. "Do you have a tongue, Sweetheart?"

"Sweetheart?" I raise my eyebrows.

"So she does speak!" Fletch says, clapping his hands laughing more. He steps up next to Titan extending a clawed hand toward me. His hands and forearms are larger in proportion to his body than human hands. "Come on down off Titan and I'll take you to your quarters. I am sure his majesty, King Alvar, is tired after such a journey and will need to recuperate." He shoots Alvar a secretive-type expression.

Huh?

"Aye," Alvar sighs, closing his eyes and rubbing his temple. "That would be most excellent. Thank you, Fletch. See to it she finds her way and is comfortable."

"Aye, sir." Fletch salutes.

I'm hesitant.

"Sweetheart, get off the pretty pony and let's go," Fletch says, waving his hand for me to get down.

"And Fletch," Alvar adds.

"Yes, sire?"

"Be nice to her, she's not used to any of this you know." Alvar winks at me with a smile and dismounts Shasti. The mytonir follows him to the stable.