by Tara Grayce
Would he think she had been lying to him if she didn’t tell him she knew the truth? Or would he appreciate her waiting for him to bring up the topic when he was ready?
This was a subject that should wait until Farrendel was ready, and she wouldn’t know he was ready until he was the one who mentioned it.
“I know there are things about you I don’t know yet. But I’m all right with that, and I’m willing to wait until you are ready to tell me. Whatever you have to tell me won’t change what I’m beginning to feel about you.” Essie decided to be daring and touched the scar on his cheek. “You don’t know everything about me yet either. Not that I can think of any deep dark secrets at the moment. I tend to just say everything I’m thinking and feeling without holding all that much back. But I’m sure I can think of something you don’t know about me yet if I think about it hard enough.”
Farrendel’s mouth tipped in a slight smile. And that smile did something funny to Essie’s heart. She would keep blabbing the first thing that came to mind for the rest of her life if it meant she could keep seeing that smile.
ESSIE PERCHED on the small mare she had been given to ride. Ashenifela was a pretty brown mare with a white stripe down the center of her forehead and the softest muzzle. Her name meant Dances with the Fair Wind, and Essie thought it perfect. She itched to urge the mare into a full gallop and see how well she lived up to her name, but the narrow path through the trees gave no room for a run, bordered as it was by thick undergrowth on both sides.
They had been riding for about two hours now. Long enough that she was probably going to be sore for the next few days, but Essie didn’t care. Being out in the vast forest with the fresh air filling her from head to toe reminded her of how invigorating such a country estate was. In the last few years, there had been little time for relaxation at their summer cottage, and Essie hadn’t even realized until this moment how much she’d missed that freedom.
Ahead of them, the forest opened up, and Essie had to blink at the brilliance of the sunlight, more sunlight than she’d seen since coming to the dense forest. As her eyes adjusted, she took in the scene spreading before her.
A small lake formed a teardrop shape with the creek dumping into it on the thin side and the rounded end bordered by a stretch pebbled beach. Up the bank a truly massive willow tree draped flowing branches over the pebbles and patches of grass below. Lethorel was tucked among the whispery branches, and Essie couldn’t imagine a more picturesque—and romantic—setting.
Farrendel glanced over at her, and his smile was already twitching his face. Almost twinkling in his eyes.
She grinned back at him. “Can we race around the lake? Ashenifela is itching for a run.”
As an answer, Farrendel urged his dark brown gelding into a gallop. His silver-blond hair streamed behind him, and it would be almost worth it to lose to watch the way his hair floated gracefully on the breeze.
Almost.
She leaned low over Ashenifela’s neck and urged her into a full tilt run. The mare glided over the gravel path, her hooves skimming over the ground. The wind tugged at Essie’s hair, running fingers over her scalp.
She nudged the mare into more speed. The mare responded, and together she and Essie were flying.
They rounded the bend around the lake, and Essie was now level with Farrendel. She glanced over at him and couldn’t contain a laugh.
They flashed into the green yard in front of the willow tree. Both of them reined in their horses, and they came to a skidding, prancing halt.
Essie patted the mare’s neck. Ashenifela tossed her head and blew out a snort, as if the run had been far too short. Essie couldn’t help but agree. That was one thing the elves lacked in their dense forest. What she wouldn’t give to take Ashenifela to the open, grassy hills back in Escarland. Ashenifela would truly be able to stretch her legs and fly there.
Maybe someday she and Farrendel would be able to visit, and she could take Ashenifela along.
Essie dismounted and walked Ashenifela in a circle to let her cool down. Not that it was necessary after such a short run, but it kept Essie busy as the rest of the Farrendel’s family, the few servants they had with them, and the ten guards caught up.
One of the servants took the reins from Farrendel, then held out a hand to Essie. Essie placed Ashenifela’s reins in the servant’s hand. She watched as the servant led the horses away, spotting the small stable grown out of a thicket of trees. At least she would be able to find Ashenifela if she wanted to go for a ride.
“You like that horse.”
She jumped and turned to Farrendel. With his soft footsteps, she hadn’t heard him join her. “Yes.”
“Then she is yours.” Farrendel held out his hand. “Would you like to see our rooms?”
Essie clasped his fingers with hers in the proper elf handholding since his family was watching. “Yes, please.”
Farrendel led her to a gate-like door, opened it, and together they climbed the spiraling staircase grown into the willow tree. At the top where the biggest limbs branched out from the main trunk, a dining room had been grown into place, much like in Estyra. Walking around the dining room, Farrendel led the way onto one of the branches.
After living in Estyra for the past few months, Essie’s stomach only gave a small flip as they stepped onto the two-foot-wide branch. It was still far too narrow for comfort, and she was glad she had Farrendel’s hand to steady herself.
The farther they walked from the main trunk, more branches and twigs trailed around them until they were brushing them aside as they passed. The wispy, trailing leaves fluttered in a light breeze filled with the clear scent of the lake, damp earth, and a green, warm scent that could only be the willow tree surrounding them.
It was magical. And put thoughts into her head that she wasn’t sure she and Farrendel were ready for yet. But maybe they could get comfortable heading in that direction. Perhaps even share a first kiss. This seemed like the kind of place for kissing.
Farrendel pushed aside a particularly dense curtain of willow twigs and leaves and there before them was a cottage grown from the limb itself with twining branches forming walls and a roof.
Essie nearly stumbled, and thankfully Farrendel was steady on the branch. He glanced back at her, and she smiled. “It’s beautiful.”
Farrendel’s smile bloomed, more relaxed than she’d ever seen. This place must be truly special to him. A place that felt more like home even than Estyra.
The cottage had a small porch just across the front. Leaves trailed from the porch posts, posts that were living branches. Essie ran her fingers over one of the leaves as she crossed the porch.
Farrendel opened the door and led the way inside. They stepped into a small sitting room, only big enough for a couple of chairs and a small countertop with cupboards along one wall. Two doors on the far side filled the entire wall across from them.
Essie waved at the doors across the way. “Is your room on the right and mine on the left like at home or do we switch it up here?”
Farrendel stared at her with some unreadable expression in his silver-blue eyes.
Essie waited, but Farrendel didn’t say anything. He didn’t look away either. She cocked her head. “What? Is something wrong?”
Farrendel looked away, his hair falling like a curtain to hide his expression. “You called Estyra home.”
She had, hadn’t she? It had seemed so natural. When had she started thinking of Estyra as home instead of Aldon?
No, not really instead of. In some ways, Aldon with her childhood room in Winstead Palace would always be home.
But home didn’t have to be only one place at a time. It could be Winstead Palace in Aldon and Ellonahshinel in Estyra.
“Of course, I did. It’s home.” Essie squeezed his hand. “I mean it. I love Estyra. I love our rooms there. I love so much of my new life.”
Farrendel’s smile twitched onto his face. He gestured at the doors. “You can take your pick if you woul
d like.”
Essie shook her head. “I know you. You like your routines and habits. Your room is usually the one on the right, isn’t it?”
Farrendel gave a small snorting sound. Was that a laugh? “Yes, it is.”
“Then I’ll take the room on the left.” Essie let go of Farrendel’s hand and headed for the door. Pushing it open, she stepped inside and glanced around. The room was smaller than her one in Estyra, but in some ways that made it cozier. The bed was against the far wall under the window. Branches formed shelves for her clothes while a small mirror was set into the wall. “It’s adorable.”
Cozy. At Estyra, their rooms were on completely separate tree branches. Here, only a wall would separate them.
Progress, perhaps?
After a restful night, Essie stretched as the morning sunlight filtered through her window, then suppressed a groan. She was just as sore as she’d feared. All that riding yesterday had stiffened her muscles.
A faint thumping came from outside. Essie pushed herself on her elbow to peer out the window.
Farrendel was in the middle of his morning workout routine, dashing along one of the branches. He was far enough away that he wouldn’t see inside her windows.
She leaned against the windowsill and rested her chin on her arms. She held her breath as Farrendel somersaulted in the air and landed on a branch that looked far too small for doing maneuvers like that. He spun on a heel, his arms out as if swinging a pair of swords. The early morning sunlight streaming through the dancing strands of willow branches glinted across his sweat-slicked muscles and the scars cutting across his skin.
After a moment, she forced herself to turn away from the window. She found her lightest weight shirt and pants and dressed. She didn’t put on a tunic or a belt over it. Instead, she left her room, crossed the main room, and found her way onto the network of branches surrounding the cottage. It took her a few minutes to traverse the far too skinny branches until she reached the far side.
Farrendel had left his shirt hanging on a branch, and Essie lowered herself into a sitting position next to it.
Farrendel performed several more spins and flips before he dashed toward her, flipped one more time, and landed a few feet away, his hair floating around him.
She grinned and clambered to her feet. “Impressive as always.”
Farrendel shifted, ducking his head. Were the tips of his ears growing pink? He made a sound in the back of his throat, like he was clearing it. “I usually swim in the mornings afterwards.”
“I figured as much. My brothers would never pass up a perfectly good lake after getting all hot and sweaty. Why do you think I’m dressed for swimming?” Essie waved down at herself. When Farrendel reached past her for his shirt, she halted him. “You don’t need that. You’re fine. Back in Escarland, all the guys swim with their shirts off. It’s time you elves learned to be a little more daring. Now, what’s the fastest way down to the lake?”
The smile that creased Farrendel’s face was almost mischievous. He held out a hand. When she took it, he led her onto one of the branches that spread over the lake. Reaching up, he disentangled a rope.
Essie looked from him to the rope. “You have got to be fooling me.”
Farrendel’s smile grew a hint wider. If he smiled any wider, his teeth might even show. He gripped the rope and launched himself from the branch. He arced down from the willow tree and flew over the water. At the apex of the swing, he let go, flipped in the air, and dove into the water with barely a splash.
The rope swung back toward her, and Essie snagged it.
This was crazy. It was an awfully long way down to the lake, and she wasn’t nearly as graceful or coordinated as Farrendel.
She could hear her brothers’ ragging on her for being scared. Gripping the rope tighter, she drew in a deep breath and stepped from the branch.
Her breath caught as she swung toward the ground at a speed that was exhilarating. She let out a whooping shriek. As she reached the end of the rope, her weight tugged on her arms, but she hung on. The pebbled beach flashed below her, then water was beneath her.
At the moment she felt herself go weightless once again, she let go of the rope, tucked into a ball, and pinched her nose. After two heartbeats of falling, she hit the water with a huge splash, one that would have made her brothers proud.
The cold lake water closed around her as she plunged deep. Uncurling, she pushed herself to the surface.
An arm wrapped under her shoulders and yanked her upward. Her head broke the surface, and she swiped the water from her face. When she opened her eyes, she was face to face with Farrendel.
He wasn’t smiling as she expected, but his eyes were wide. Almost scared. He swiped a lock of her dripping hair from her face. “Are you injured? That was a large splash.”
Essie couldn’t help the giggles that burst from her. It hadn’t occurred to her that Farrendel would worry when she didn’t perform the same graceful dive he had. “I’m fine. Truly. We humans are uncoordinated, so we came up with a few other ways to enter the water besides diving. That particular move is called a cannonball. My brothers and I would try for the biggest splash. That one would’ve gotten a cheer.”
Farrendel’s shoulders relaxed. “You did it on purpose.”
“Yes. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I’d scare you.” Essie shook her head. Every time she thought she was getting the hang of elven culture, she realized she still had a lot to learn.
Time to get that smile back on his face. It was either that or she was going to be tempted to kiss him with him this close. She pushed away and waved her hand across the lake’s surface, sending a spray of water into Farrendel’s face.
Farrendel started and blinked at her as if he couldn’t believe she’d just done that.
She grinned. “That’s another human tradition. Water fight.”
Cocking his head, Farrendel flicked the water. Only a few drops spattered Essie’s face.
She snorted. “I don’t think you get the point of this.” She splashed him again.
This time when he splashed her back, the splash actually soaked her face. She grinned and let out a laugh as the water fight began in earnest.
After several minutes, Essie staggered out of the water and collapsed on the pebbles of the beach, laughing too hard to catch her breath or care that the pebbles dug into her shoulder. Had she laughed this hard since coming to Tarenhiel?
Farrendel sank onto the ground next to her, his long hair plastered against his back and a shade darker than it usually was. His smile was the widest she had ever seen. Big enough that it might even count as a real smile.
Essie caught her breath and pushed herself onto an elbow. “I can see why you like it here so much. It’s easy to relax.”
“Yes.” Farrendel leaned back on his hands. He was more relaxed than she’d ever seen him with his scars visible as they were when he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Maybe she’d finally convinced him that his scars truly didn’t bother her.
She ached to ask him about them. But she didn’t want to break this moment.
Footsteps crunched on the pebbles behind them. Farrendel stiffened, his fingers clenching as if he wanted to reach for the shirt he’d left by their rooms in the tree.
Essie turned. King Weylind stood a few feet away, arms crossed. Essie spotted a flicker in his eyes as his gaze focused on Farrendel’s scars. What that flicker meant, Essie couldn’t be sure. Was King Weylind disgusted by them? Or remembering how Farrendel got them? If Essie remembered right, King Weylind helped rescue Farrendel from the trolls. Perhaps it was guilt more than disgust in his eyes.
And something in his expression said whatever he had to say was bad news.
Farrendel climbed to his feet and crossed his arms over his chest. Not in a defiant way. More like he was trying to hide behind the small safety his arms provided.
Essie stood and rested a hand on Farrendel’s arm. Hopefully it helped him know she was there, no matter what King Weylind
had to say.
King Weylind held a small piece of paper. “There was another troll raid on the border.”
Farrendel stiffened, hardened, as if a part of him was dying inside yet again. “Do they need me at the border?”
“No, not at this time. The trolls disappeared after the raid.” King Weylind shook his head. “But it may come to that once we have more information.”
“HERE IS Farrendel’s old bow.” Jalissa held out a small recurve bow made from a silver-gray wood.
“It’s beautiful.” Essie took it and ran her fingers over the smooth curve of the bow’s limbs. She approached the bins of arrows, neatly arranged by size, and picked out one that she believed was the right size. Nocking it to the bow, she drew back, testing the draw weight of the bow and measuring the length of the arrow. Yes, it was the correct length. She eased the bow back to neutral position. “Where is the range?”
“This way.” Jalissa grabbed a handful of arrows and led the way out of the small storage shed.
Essie collected several of the arrows of the right length and followed Jalissa. At the far side of the shed, a servant was hauling a bundle of a hay with a target on it out into the forest. When it was about seventy-five yards out, the servant halted and set the target up.
“We will start with an easy distance.” Jalissa nocked an arrow. She raised the bow, aimed, and released so quickly it was a blur of movement. The arrow slammed into the bullseye.
Essie breathed out something that was part amazement, part a laugh. “Good shot. Don’t expect the same out of me. I’m out of practice, and I was never that good. Not elf good, anyway.”
Jalissa’s face took on a small smile. “Are you stalling?”
“Maybe.” Essie nocked an arrow and raised the bow. She aimed, let out half a breath, and in that steadiness of her held breath, she released. Her arrow thunked into the circle surrounding the bullseye.
