Fierce Heart (Elven Alliance Book 1)

by Tara Grayce

  There was something to those words. A deeper meaning. But Essie couldn’t even begin to guess what it was. Whatever dynamic existed in this family, she would have to figure it out sooner rather than later. It seemed like that information could become very important to know.

  ESSIE TRIED TO HOLD still as Jalissa and her maid put the final touches on Essie’s hair. The different texture and slight curl to Essie’s hair had given the two elf women fits until they’d finally settled on an intricate braid down her back, laced with silver strands. Silver strands had been plaited together to form something almost like a circlet, complete with silver maple and oak leaves tucked into her hair.

  Another elf maid bustled into the room, carrying a pile of white fabric. She puffed out something between panting breaths.

  Jalissa let out a sigh. “The dress is finally ready.”

  Good. Even Essie had been able to sense the tension as Jalissa and her maid worried the dress wouldn’t be ready in time. Essie probably would’ve been worried too, but she had been too busy practicing the elvish words she needed to know and pronounce correctly for the ceremony.

  Unlike her rushed wedding in Escarland, the whole elven court was going to be there, and this would be their first impression of her. She couldn’t mess this up. Not if she wanted a chance at finding a place here.

  And, strangely, she wanted to make a good impression for Farrendel’s sake as well. She didn’t know all the reasons why he’d agreed to this marriage, but he was doing just what she was. Marrying someone he barely knew for the sake of peace for his people. He’d made an effort to learn the vows and say them correctly for their Escarlish wedding. It was the least she could do for him to do the same for their elven wedding.

  The maid let go of the dress’s skirt and held it up.

  Essie froze, her breath catching in her throat. Not just because the dress was the most exquisite piece of clothing she’d ever seen—and it was stunning with its flowing white-silver fabric and overlay of lace—but because she recognized that lace overlay. It was from her first wedding dress.

  She eased to her feet and walked over to the dress. Much of the bodice was the same beadwork and embroidery as before, though it had been reshaped so that it was flowing instead of tight. The upper part of the bodice and the sleeves had been removed to leave her upper chest, shoulders, and arms bare while a strip of fabric had been added at the neckline, a band of fabric that would hold the bodice in place now that the sleeves and shoulders were gone.

  Instead of puffing out with the help of yards of fabric and several underlayers of petticoats, this skirt draped straight down, falling like a waterfall to the floor and flowing in a graceful train behind.

  Essie had loved the dress before, but now it was the type of dress it was an honor to be able to wear. She reached out to touch it but halted just shy of the fabric. “How did you know to remake this dress?”

  “Farrendel requested it.” Jalissa was glancing from Essie to the dress, as if trying to figure out what was so special about it.

  He had? She’d only made that one, brief comment to him about her wedding dress, and it had been buried in a bunch of other chatter. Yet he’d remembered. Had brought the dress along from the boat. And asked that it was altered for this second wedding.

  It was all so thoughtful of him. She hadn’t known he’d been paying enough attention to her to be thoughtful.

  Everything was so new. So foreign. So sudden. But perhaps this marriage would work out. Somehow. He was making an effort, not simply ignoring her. And that would make all the difference in the world.

  The maid draped the dress over a chair that looked like it had been grown into its shape. Then she held out two more items to Essie that Jalissa explained were undergarments. They were almost scandalous, compared to her layers of chemise, corset, bloomers, and petticoats.

  But they weren’t scandalous to an elf.

  Essie grinned. She’d always wanted to shed a few of the confining layers. And here in Estyra, she didn’t have to worry about being proper by Escarlish standards. Only by elf standards.

  Quickly, Essie changed into the new undergarments and dumped her old things on the floor. When the maid knelt to pick them up, Essie nudged the corset with her toe. “You can dispose of those things however you wish. I don’t plan on ever wearing them again.”

  The maid glanced to Jalissa, and Jalissa nodded. “Do as she says.”

  With Jalissa’s help, Essie eased into the remade wedding dress. It slid against her skin in a way it hadn’t in its previous, flouncy state. With a few final touches, Jalissa turned Essie to the smooth surface of the mirror set in a frame that appeared to be a tangle of branches.

  Essie caught her breath at the vision her reflection portrayed in the mirror. Yes, she was shorter and curvier than most of the elves. She had more color to her cheeks and a pink tint to her skin instead of silver. But in that dress with her hair styled as it was, she almost looked like she had been born with elven blood in her veins.

  Jalissa stood beside her. “Tonight, you will become a princess of the elves. Hold your head high with pride. Do not let anyone make you feel ashamed because you are human. If you do, they will never let you forget it.”

  “Thank you.” Essie turned, barely resisting the urge to hug Jalissa. “I know you aren’t happy about your brother marrying me, but I promise I will do my best to make him happy.”

  Jalissa didn’t meet her gaze but instead turned to their twin reflections in the mirror. “I was upset that circumstances were forcing him to marry a human. If he finds happiness with you, it will be a happiness that will be fleeting and short, even if you have a long life for a human.”

  Essie tried to think like an elf. What must it be like to live so long that a human’s lifespan of eighty or ninety years seemed short? “I will do my best not to be a burden to him.”

  “I think you will try.” Jalissa patted her arm. “We elves do not give our hearts easily, but when we do, it is a weighty thing. We do not give and take back the way you humans do, calling every passing fancy love. You live short, passionate lives, and any mistakes you make will only be regretted for a few decades before you die. But we elves live too long to live so recklessly. What we regret, we regret for centuries.”

  “What you’re saying is that I shouldn’t expect Farrendel to ever love me.” Essie tried not to let that sting. It was all right if her husband never loved her. She hadn’t expected anything like love or romance going into this.

  Who was she fooling? That deep down, foolish part of her wanted romance. Wanted Farrendel to eventually love her.

  Jalissa finally met Essie’s eyes. “No, I am asking that you do not let him love you. My mother died young for one of my people. I watched my father die that day, even though it was another hundred years before a troll ended his life. My brother is too young and has already suffered too much for me to wish such grief on him. Please. If you come to care for him at all, do not do that to him.”

  Essie tore her gaze away from Jalissa’s. What could she say to that?

  A lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed it down. That was the worst part of facing the cold, hard truth. No, she hadn’t expected love. Or romance. Or even fondness.

  But she’d wanted them. She could easily find herself falling in love with Farrendel.

  Could she manage to love him knowing he wouldn’t—couldn’t—love her in return? Would it be better or worse than spending her whole life keeping herself from ever loving him?

  She didn’t want him to spend centuries miserable. But she also didn’t want them to spend the decades of this marriage miserable either.

  Hold her head with pride. Don’t let anyone make her feel ashamed to be human. That was Jalissa’s advice, and Essie drew every scrap of courage together to face Jalissa with her chin up. “No, I don’t want to hurt Farrendel. Now or after I’m gone. But I’m not going to make both of us miserable now either. I will do my best to keep our relationship to a friendship fi
lled with caring and kindness, even if we can’t have love.”

  Even if Essie’s love would be always one-sided.

  “That is all I can ask, as a sister who cares for her brother very much.” Jalissa tilted her head in what Essie was beginning to recognize as a nod. She glanced toward the doorway. “It is time.”

  Essie turned. Melantha stood in the doorway, her face a beautiful mask. Without a glance in Essie’s direction, Melantha clapped her hands together and gave something—most likely an order based on the tone—in elvish.

  The two maids picked up the ends of Essie’s train while Jalissa joined Melantha. Together, the two sisters began singing, a song with high, ringing notes that few of even the best human singers could hope to match.

  Essie couldn’t understand the words, but Jalissa had told her it was a song about love and wishing happiness on the bride and groom. It was a traditional song to be sung as the bride walked to the hall for the wedding and wouldn’t be changed even in the unusual circumstances.

  As she’d been told, Essie fell into place behind them with the two maids carrying her dress’s train behind her.

  It was a short walk down a spiraling staircase and along a broad branch to the hall. Essie didn’t look to either side of the branch to the long drop to the ground below.

  Two male elves opened the double doors into the hall. Essie kept her head up as they entered the elves’ grand hall.

  Branches the size of trees grew upright to form the walls. Windows lined each side while a tangle of branches formed the roof far above. Lights twinkled among the roof branches. Gold filigree glinted on the arches above the windows and above the doors.

  Elves lined each side of the room, much as humans would have if this was a wedding in Escarland. At the far end of the room, Farrendel’s silver hair was a shining beacon against the dark hair of his brother standing next to him.

  Melantha and Jalissa led the way down the aisle between the elves, still singing their lilting melody. At the front, they stepped to either side, leaving Essie to walk the last few feet alone.

  She halted in front of Farrendel. He was dressed in a silver tunic and trousers only a few shades darker than the tunic. He didn’t wear a shirt beneath the tunic, leaving a V of skin exposed on his chest.

  His chest was well muscled. Slim and sinewy.

  She shook herself. Focus.

  No, she was already focused. Too focused. On the wrong place at the moment.

  She gave herself another good shake and forced her gaze to lift to his face.

  His expression was annoyingly blank, his eyes hard and cold as ice. Not even a twinkle to tell he’d noticed her ogling his chest.

  King Weylind began the ceremony. Essie couldn’t understand any of it beyond a word or two. At least she had a vague idea of what he might be saying, thanks to Jalissa’s explanation. It would be a short message about the binding of two hearts into one. Something similar to the message the officiant had given over in Escarland.

  At the end of the message, King Weylind picked up a shallow bowl filled with a liquid that looked like light green paint. He held it out to Essie.

  She let out a long breath and took the bowl. This was the part she’d been memorizing all morning and afternoon to make sure she got right.

  Facing Farrendel, she held the bowl out in both hands.

  Farrendel dipped his finger into the paint, then lifted his hand to her face.

  Essie braced herself as Farrendel traced an elven symbol on her forehead and spoke in elvish. It was a wish for their minds to sharpen each other. Though wish was a small word for it. Jalissa had explained it was more like a blessing.

  Farrendel touched the paint again before he traced a symbol on her right cheek while speaking another elven blessing. This one for kindness to fill their speech with each other.

  After dipping his finger in the paint a third time, Farrendel reached for her again, but this time he drew the symbol on her chest just above the neckline of her dress above her heart. She tried not to shiver. His touch was gentle, the paint cold against her skin. The elven blessing this time was for their hearts to be bound as one.

  Something zinged deep in her chest. It didn’t hurt, exactly, but it was powerful enough to make her catch her breath.

  Farrendel’s expression didn’t change, exactly, but his eyes searched her face.

  No time to ponder what just happened. She held the bowl out. Farrendel took it from her and cradled it in his hands.

  Her turn. She dipped her finger into the paint then reached up and traced the symbol on Farrendel’s forehead, repeating the elven blessing and hoping she got the pronunciation right. She did the same thing with the symbol on his cheek.

  Then it was her turn to draw the symbol on his chest. With a deep breath, she refreshed the paint on her finger, then, tentatively, touched his chest over his heart.

  His skin was warmer than she’d expected. Or maybe her hands had gone cold from nerves. She traced the symbol over his heart, and as she nudged aside the tunic to complete the symbol, she caught sight of a scar running from his collarbone, down his shoulder, and onto his upper chest. She looked closer, paying more attention to his skin than the muscles beneath as she had earlier.

  More scars cut across his skin, only their ends visible before they disappeared beneath his tunic.

  He was Laesornysh. Death on the wind. And he was marked because of it.

  Was it her imagination, or did his muscles stiffen beneath her finger?

  She needed to finish the ceremony and worry about everything else later. She repeated the blessing for binding their hearts into one. This time, she didn’t feel the zing of power, but Farrendel started almost imperceptively. She might not have noticed if her finger hadn’t still been on his chest and felt the twitch of his muscles.

  Farrendel set the bowl aside, King Weylind said the closing words, and just like that, Essie was officially, for-real-on-both-sides-of-the-border married to an elf prince.

  Farrendel held out his arm, and this time Essie laid her hand on top of his forearm as she was supposed to. Instead of leading her anywhere, Farrendel stayed in place, as if waiting for something.

  Melantha and Jalissa approached them first, each gripping Farrendel’s shoulders and saying something in elvish in turn. Melantha walked past Essie without so much as a gesture or word, but Jalissa gripped her upper arms and said in Escarlish, “Make my brother happy.”

  Essie nodded, not daring to even glance at Farrendel beside her.

  More elves walked up to them and gave Farrendel what Essie could only guess what some sort of congratulations. For most of them, the tone of their voice didn’t sound all that happy or congratulatory. More like they were giving Farrendel their condolences.

  An elf woman approached them. Her dark black hair had a single streak of gray running one side while the hint of lines cut around her eyes and mouth. She must be very old for an elf. When she spoke to Farrendel, her voice held a warmth Essie hadn’t heard from many of the other elves.

  The elf woman turned to Essie. “I am his father’s mother, Leyleira.”

  His grandmother. Essie smiled and bobbed a curtsey. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

  Leyleira’s dark eyes studied Essie for a long moment before she reached out and gripped Essie’s arms. “May your love be as Daesyn and Inara.”

  Essie didn’t recognize the names, but they meant something. She could feel it in the stiffening of Farrendel’s muscles beneath her hand and the way, behind Leyleira, several elves shot glances toward King Weylind.

  Essie wouldn’t ask about them now, but she would note those names. Maybe, if she could find a library around here and if she could brush up on her elvish enough to read whatever she found, she could figure out who Daesyn and Inara were and why Leyleira thought their love would be important.

  Maybe Leyleira’s statement was meant to be ironic? Maybe that was a story of tragedy and not one of true love? Maybe Daesyn abandoned Inara for someone else?


  No, Essie was not going to assume the worst. Not until she knew the story.

  While the elves gave their congratulations—or condolences—to Farrendel, tables and food were set up in the hall. Essie was relieved when it was finally time to sit and feast.

  The elven food was delicious, even if it was short on spices to her taste. They didn’t have much for vegetables, only a few roots and greens that probably grew in the forest. But the venison was juicy and tender even if it lacked pepper.

  She glanced around as she ate, making sure she wasn’t making a fool of herself by eating too much. The elves were all so thin, it seemed they must eat sparingly.

  But, as far as she could tell, the elves feasted as much as humans would have, though much more quietly and with less raucous jokes shouted across tables. It was almost like a sedate tea party, yet with lots more food.

  After the feasting was dancing. A slow, twirling, graceful sort of dance far removed from the fast-moving, dizzying dances that were a part of Escarlish weddings. Farrendel didn’t lead Essie into a dance, and Essie wasn’t sure if that was because he was ashamed of his new human bride or he wanted to spare her embarrassment.

  Finally, Farrendel eased to his feet and held his arm out to her. With his sisters, brother, and sister-in-law dancing, it seemed he had timed their exit to cause as little stir as possible.

  That was fine by Essie. She took his arm and slipped with him from the hall.

  Outside, the cool night air wrapped around them as they climbed one of the outdoor staircases that wound higher into the tree. Essie drew in several deep breaths, the crisp air filling her like they were her first decent breaths all day. Maybe they were.

  They left the staircase and traversed a broad branch as wide as the street far below before they reached another winding staircase. Essie tried not to think about how high in the air they were.

  At the top of the staircase, they reached a spot where a branch split into many, smaller branches about three or four feet wide.