Fierce Heart (Elven Alliance Book 1)
Page 14
When she turned back to the room with the cup of water, it took her a moment to find Farrendel where he curled in the far corner on one of the overstuffed cushions on the floor with his back to the wall. She’d only spotted him because of the glint of starlight on his silver-blond hair.
She crossed the room and held out the cup. When he took it, she fetched two blankets from a nearby cupboard and settled onto a cushion next to him. Not close enough to be touching, but within easy handholding space if he would be all right with that.
Farrendel cradled the cup in both hands and sipped, as if he needed the water to steady whatever memories were shaking him inside.
Tucking one of the blankets around herself, she let him have these few moments of silence to piece himself together from the nightmares tormenting him.
He was waiting for her to ask. She could see it in his tense posture, the way his knees were drawn up as if to protect his heart even from her.
How did a family that loved him as much as Essie knew King Weylind, Melantha, and Jalissa did let Farrendel become this wounded? How could King Weylind possibly send Farrendel back into battle knowing how it tore Farrendel inside?
Unless King Weylind didn’t know? Was that why Farrendel demanded space from them after a battle? He let them think it was his way to process, and what he was really doing was hiding his breaking? And yet Farrendel went back into battle, became Laesornysh again and again. Was it because he felt it was better that he was the wounded, broken one than someone else?
Probably, but now wasn’t the time to talk about it. She wasn’t going to ask about the nightmares or make him talk about this when he was so clearly unready.
“I visited with your grandmother Leyleira while you were gone. I think she approves of you marrying me, though it’s hard to tell.” Essie rested her hand, palm up, in the space between them. Inviting him to hold her hand if he wanted to.
She wasn’t going to mention the topic of her discussion with Leyleira. Now wasn’t the time to tell Farrendel that she knew he was illegitimate.
He set the cup of water to the side, pulled the second blanket over his legs, and leaned his head against the wall, staring into the darkness instead of looking at her. After a moment, he inched his hand toward hers and tentatively clasped her hand. Not a two-finger, elven style handholding. But fingers clasped, palms together, human handhold.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low, his tone questioning rather than accusatory. “You were dining with my family.”
Essie let out a breath in a small laugh. “Yes. I don’t do well all by myself. I like to be around people.”
“I did not think you would be brave enough to face them alone.” Farrendel still wasn’t looking at her, but some of the tension had eased from his shoulders.
“I decided I wasn’t going to let them intimidate me. I’m never going to make a spot for myself beside you if I’m always cowering behind you. And it wasn’t all bad. They mostly spoke in elvish and ignored me, though your grandmother and Jalissa occasionally made a point to include me.” Probably best to steer the conversation away from his family. “I also spent time with Illyna. I think she’s going to become a good friend.”
“Good.” Farrendel closed his eyes. Was that a tremble she could feel through his fingers? “You both could use a friend here.”
As could he. She clasped his hand between both of hers. His fingers were cold, colder even than they’d been at their weddings.
Was this the time to bring up her idea? “I was thinking. In Escarland, a princess often does charity work. I’m not sure how it works here, but I think I would like to start a—I’m not sure what to call it—maybe foundation? It would be an organization to help the elves who fought in the wars, especially those who were wounded. We could start out by making a list of businesses, like Illyna’s that are friendly to elves with visible scars. We could help them find jobs, those kinds of things. Do you think that would be something helpful here?”
Farrendel tilted his head toward her, finally meeting her gaze. “Yes. It may not be popular but it is needful.”
And they could bring together damaged, hurting elves who needed to find others like them who would understand their nightmares and their struggles better than those who hadn’t fought, who hadn’t been injured, like they had.
Now wasn’t the time for more of a discussion or planning. Farrendel was still trembling in the aftereffects of his nightmares, too damaged to properly process anything of what she was saying tonight.
Essie held his hand long into the night. Talking when he seemed like he wanted to talk. Staying silent when he seemed to need space. And thinking that, for all the cultural and magical differences, elves weren’t all that different from humans after all.
ESSIE’S EYES felt gritty as she blinked against the light shining on her face. She was curled on her side on one of the cushions in the corner of the main room, snuggled under a blanket.
Farrendel curled a foot away from her, still asleep as far as she could tell. His face was so very young in his sleep while his hair lay perfectly smooth over his cheek and shoulder, the tip of his ear visible.
For a moment, Essie had the nearly irresistible urge to touch his ear, and only the fact that her hand was still loosely held in Farrendel’s between them stopped her.
Besides, she was in no hurry to wake him. After the rough night, he deserved his sleep. There was something soothingly peaceful about his even breathing, his expression stripped of the tense hardness he so often wore. As he normally woke well before her, she wouldn’t see him like this often.
A knock came from the front door, jolting Essie. She suppressed a groan. Why was someone at their door at this hour? It wasn’t exactly early anymore, but it was still morning. Had King Weylind sent a messenger to make sure Essie hadn’t bothered Farrendel?
Essie began to lever herself to a sitting position, but Farrendel’s hand tightened on hers. When she glanced down, he still had his eyes closed, but his body had that still, tense look of someone awake instead of relaxed in sleep.
“If you do not answer, they will leave their message or package by the door,” Farrendel murmured.
Essie sank back to her side on her cushion and whispered, “I see. You have this whole hide away in your rooms thing down to an art form.”
Not that she minded, at least, not this morning. She was rather content to hide away in his rooms with him.
After one more knock, there was silence. Essie waited, holding her breath. Her own tension nearly turned into giggles. One would think they were hiding from an enemy instead of some poor elf servant just doing his or her job.
Farrendel sighed and opened his eyes. “They are gone.” He pushed himself into a sitting position.
Essie levered herself upright and hopped to her feet. “I’ll fetch whatever the servant left if you’d like to start on breakfast.”
She didn’t wait for his reply but hurried to the door. Even though Farrendel said the servant had left, Essie still took a moment to peek through one of the windows to make sure no one was around before she opened the door.
A canvas-wrapped package sat on the narrow porch in front of the door with several folded and sealed papers stacked on top. Essie picked up the whole bundle in both arms, shut the door behind her with a foot, and carried everything to the table, setting it down on one side to avoid the plates of cold venison and fruit Farrendel was setting out for their breakfast.
“This is a larger pile than I was expecting.” Essie picked up the first of the sealed letters, this one a single sheet of paper. A single word was written on it in elvish. “I’m assuming this is yours.”
As she held it out to him, she nearly dropped it as she caught sight of the thick letter beneath it with her name written in her mother’s familiar handwriting. “A letter from my mother. Hopefully that means she got the one I sent with you before you left. I have a stack of letters and packages for her and Paige and my brothers, but with you gone, I didn’t know how to send them.�
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Farrendel took the note from her, saving it from falling into a bowl of fruit. “We can see to sending your letter and package this afternoon. You can add a reply to her letter if you wish.”
“Perfect.” Essie glanced between the thick stack of paper that her mother had sent to the package waiting to be unwrapped. The package wasn’t from her mother. It had a note with elvish script pinned to the canvas.
As much as Essie wanted to sit and read her mother’s letter right then and there, she would rather take the time to savor it, not read it while eating breakfast. With some effort, she set her mother’s letter to the side. “I’ll read it and answer it after breakfast. Who is the package for?”
Farrendel looked past the note he was reading to peer at the paper pinned to the package. “For you. It must be some of the dresses and tunics we ordered.”
Already? That was fast service. But perhaps the elf who worked as the tailor and seamstress had the same problem as Illyna. The shop might not be as popular due to the elf’s hobbling gait from a war wound.
Essie unpinned the canvas wrapping. It flopped open, and deep, royal blue fabric spilled onto the table and flowed over the edge. Essie picked up the dress almost reverently. “This is even more beautiful than I imagined when I picked out this fabric.”
“It will look stunning on you.” Farrendel’s mouth tilted with the hint of a smile, something Essie wouldn’t have guessed she’d see that morning after the rough night they’d had. His eyes still held a faint weariness, though as an elf, he didn’t have so much as a wrinkle, never mind dark circles under his eyes. Still, she had the feeling he didn’t normally wake rested and relaxed after a night like last night. He held up the note. “My brother offered to send Jalissa to save me from you today.”
Farrendel was probably paraphrasing that to make it sound nicer than it probably was.
“Do you need saving from me?” Essie kept her smile in place, her tone light, as she carefully set the dress over the back of one of the chairs, then set the canvas package with the tunic, shirt, and pants that had been hidden beneath the dress on the chair as well to get it out of the way.
When she turned back to him, Farrendel’s smile had faded into something serious. He’d gone still again. “No.”
Who knew that one word could turn her insides so mushy? Essie slid into one of the chairs by the table and tapped her mother’s letter. “My brother probably sent along a letter with my mother’s, offering to rescue me from you. And I’m going to tell him that I don’t need saving from you either. I think our brothers would get along if they just united in their shared, older sibling over-protectiveness.”
Farrendel took the seat across from her, the almost smile back on his face.
They ate their breakfast in a companionable silence. Then, while Farrendel cleaned up the dishes, Essie curled in one of the chairs with her mother’s letter, unable to resist a moment longer.
Reading her mother’s letter was both wonderful and heart-aching at the same time. Missing her family was an ache so constant she almost didn’t realize it was there until something like this prodded it into a painful stabbing.
They were all doing well. There hadn’t been any more incidents at the border, and the reception to her marriage to Farrendel at home seemed to be favorable enough. The gossip was apparently painting her as the selfless, tragic princess sacrificing herself to the ruthless, heartless elves to secure peace.
And, yes, her brothers all included short letters, each of them giving some variation of the if he has hurt you, I will march right over there and beat him up for you threat. It was odd that having her brothers threaten to punch Farrendel brought a smile to her face, even though she didn’t want them to get anywhere near punching him. It just showed how much they cared for her. She wouldn’t trade that fierce love for anything, even if it meant missing them just as fiercely now.
“Is your family all right?”
Essie looked up to see Farrendel, his silver-blond hair wet and shining as it hung down his back, where he knelt in front of her. Not touching her, but close enough to almost seem like he was. His eyes searched her face, and that made her realize she had tears tracing their way down her cheek.
She swiped at her face. “They’re fine. Just reading their letters made me miss them. I was right. My brothers all wrote letters to threaten you and offer to save me if I needed them to.”
For a moment, Farrendel remained frozen as he was, and she wasn’t sure he was going to reply. Then he tipped his face to meet her gaze. “In six months, if the border with your people remains quiet, my brother will send an emissary. If I can be spared, maybe we can visit your family.”
“I’d like that.” She smiled, but she hadn’t missed the way he’d worded it. She turned to more fully face him, setting her letters aside. “How bad are things with the trolls?”
He dropped back from his crouch into a cross-legged position on the floor. That couldn’t be a good sign, if he took the time to get comfortable before answering. “There have been more raids on our border by the trolls in this last year than there have been in the past decade. Last time they raided this much, it turned into an invasion.”
An invasion. Essie swallowed. That explained why the elves were desperate enough to agree to a marriage alliance with her kingdom. They did not want to risk fighting a two-front war again. “If that happens, my brother might be persuaded to send help. Escarland doesn’t want to see Tarenhiel overrun with trolls either, since if you fall, the trolls would be at our border next.”
Farrendel shook his head. “I fear my people will not seek aid from yours unless the situation was very dire indeed. By then, it would most likely be too late.”
He was probably right. And it was doubtful her country would go to war to aid the elves unless the elves looked about ready to be overrun. Even then, many would advocate waiting for the elves to fall and then holding the trolls at the Escarlish border.
“If it looks like it’s coming to that, we both can work on our brothers. That’s what a marriage like ours is supposed to be for, politically anyway. I would rather not see either of our kingdoms fall to the trolls because our people are too stubborn to help each other.” Stubborn pride only went so far. Surely common sense would win out eventually.
“It may not come to war. If the trolls have been scouting our defenses, they will have found we are just as strong as we were fifteen years ago. And I am stronger.” Farrendel’s voice had a fierce note to it, one that reminded her of that first morning here when she’d seen him pushing himself relentlessly through morning exercises.
She leaned forward to clasp his hands. “And you have me.” She wasn’t sure how much her presence helped, but she wasn’t going to let herself be simply a burden.
Her words must have meant something to Farrendel because his hint of a smile flashed on his face for a moment. But when he met her gaze, his expression was serious once again. “Would you come with me to dinner with my family tonight?”
His question held more than just an invitation to dinner. After all, she had dined with his family for the past several nights, though this would be her first time at Farrendel’s side. “You don’t usually go to dinner with your family on a day like today, do you?”
He shook his head, and only when his fingers tightened around hers did she realize she was still holding his hands. “No.”
Not only would attending together be a statement, but the fact that he was going at all would be a statement that something was different. That something was her. Was it a subtle way for him to tell King Weylind to back off? That Essie was good for Farrendel?
“Of course, I’ll come.” Essie let go of his hands and stood. “Though I should follow your example and wash now so my hair has time to dry before tonight. Should I wear the new dress? Or is that too flashy for a simple dinner with your family?”
Farrendel rose gracefully to his feet, and when he smiled, there was a glint to the expression. “Please do.”
This was possibly even more beautiful than her re-done wedding dress. With her pale skin and red hair, the dark blue highlighted her features better than the white of the wedding dress, especially since she’d decided to wear her hair down. The elves seemed to favor leaving their hair loose and long, and the elven shampoo and conditioner were working their magic. Her hair flowed down her back in the hint of waves without so much as a hair frizzing out of place.
It was time to meet Farrendel. Essie swallowed down a churn of nerves. Why was she so nervous? She’d dined with his family before, though not with King Weylind in attendance. And not in an elven dress made specifically for her.
Would Farrendel think her beautiful in this dress? Essie ran her fingers over the skirt once again. She felt beautiful already. She didn’t necessarily need Farrendel to appreciate her in it. But it would be nice.
She was stalling. She forced herself to turn away from the mirror.
After navigating the stairs, she stepped into the main room. Farrendel was already there, wearing his silver circlet and dressed in a silver tunic over a midnight blue shirt the same color as the embroidery on her dress. The matching color scheme was so obvious, it had to have been done on purpose.
He glanced up as she entered the room. A hint of a smile curved his mouth, his silver-blue eyes warm. “You look beautiful.”
“This dress is lovely. I can’t thank you enough for purchasing it for me.” Essie gave a half-twirl back and forth to send the skirt swishing around her ankles.
Farrendel stepped closer, holding something silver in his hands. He slipped it over her hair and settled it against her forehead. “You are a princess of the elves. And with this, no one who sees you will forget it.”