The curvy elf stood up, brushing dirt from her leather trousers, and stepped closer with a grace that reminded Lucas of wind through leaves—quiet, but purposeful.
She placed a hand over her chest and bowed slightly. "I suppose introductions are overdue. I am Velwen. Former lieutenant of the Envalion Shadow Guard. Current… follower of yours, it seems."
Lucas squinted. "Right. And, uh… that doesn't weird you out at all?"
Velwen's smile widened just slightly—mischievous, but earnest. "We've followed worse. At least you've got style. And a sense of humor. That already puts you leagues above most elf commanders."
Lucas rubbed the back of his neck. "Still doesn't explain why everyone's acting like the United Nations just set up a cuddle camp."
Velwen tilted her head. Her voice softened. "Because they trust you."
Lucas frowned. "I freed some chains. That doesn't erase centuries of racial tension."
"No," Velwen agreed. "But he does."
