War Bound

by Tara Grayce

  Across the room, another similar bed was set against the wall with smaller rails. It must be the bed for the human child he carried. He set the child down on the mattress. There were blankets. Was he supposed to do something with them? He was not properly trained for something like this.

  Queen Paige laughed, stepped around him, and tugged the blankets over Albert. “You are just like Essie described.”

  What did that mean? Farrendel stepped back. His head pounded harder. All he wanted to do was curl up in bed.

  Yet his own bed was far away in Estyra. Here, everything was unfamiliar. He was surrounded by stone, and the magic he had done earlier that evening had worsened his headache. Now, even his joints were beginning to ache.

  He could not think about it. This was Essie’s home. For her sake, he would bear this.

  “I’ll stand in the doorway of the room until you reach your room. Just to reassure the guards. They looked a little on edge.” Queen Paige bustled back into the sitting room. When she reached the door to the hallway, she turned. “Is there anything you’d like to know about Essie?”

  That stopped him in his tracks in the center of the sitting room. Essie had learned a lot about him by asking his family, and he had been cowardly enough to be glad his family had explained certain secrets so that he did not have to.

  But he had been unable to ask her family about her. What would he like to know about Essie that her family could tell him that she could not?

  He glanced at Queen Paige, then focused on the floor. “How can you tell when her smile is happy and when it is a mask?”

  Would she understand what he was asking?

  When he dared look up, he found Queen Paige was smiling, arms crossed. “It’s a good sign you’ve figured that out already. Yes, Essie will keep smiling even when she’s sad or angry or hurting. But if she’s unnaturally silent while smiling, then something’s wrong. But, this is Essie. If you push her and ask, she will eventually tell you. Or she’ll burst into tears, then tell you. And if she’s really, really angry with you, trust me, you’ll know.”

  That was good information to know. He always feared that Essie would be miserable at Estyra, and he would be unable to recognize it.

  “Linshi.” He ducked his head. “Thank you.”

  He hurried past Queen Paige into the hallway, mentally counting the doors until he found the one belonging to Essie.

  “Goodnight,” Queen Paige called from behind him.

  He nodded and entered Essie’s room. Quickly, he crossed the sitting room and the bedroom, opened the nearest window, and leaned out. The cool breeze washed over him, shoving away some of the headache.

  Now to keep Essie from seeing just how miserable he was here.

  Cold washed over Essie a moment before the muffled cry jerked her all the way awake. Rubbing at her face, she forced her gritty eyes open.

  By the faint light of the moon filtering through the windows, Farrendel’s form shook, tangled in the blankets.

  “Farrendel. Wake up.” Essie touched his shoulder.

  He flinched away, his movement stealing the last of the blankets from her feet.

  “It’s all right. Wake up.” She reached out and gently shook him.

  Farrendel stilled, sucking in a sharp breath. His face was hidden behind a curtain of his white-blond hair as he pushed onto his elbows, breathing hard.

  Essie huffed out a breath of her own. A nightmare-free night had probably been too much to hope for, especially for their first night here. At least she’d managed to wake him before his nightmare progressed past moans into screams. The palace walls were thick, but not thick enough that the guards and her brothers wouldn’t come running at the sound of screaming. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.” The word came out tight. A pause. Farrendel’s shoulders shook. “No.”

  Essie eased closer and gently rested a hand on his shoulder. This time, he didn’t flinch away from her.

  Instead, he rolled into a sitting position, dragging the blankets with him. He shuddered, as if freezing. “I am sorry I woke you.”

  “It’s all right. Really. That’s what I’m here for. It’s been a rough couple of nights.” She rescued a corner of the blanket and pulled it over herself. “The nightmares usually start to taper off by now.”

  Farrendel leaned his head against the carved headboard. “I do not believe the nightmares will stop while we are here.”

  “What do you mean?” Essie searched Farrendel’s expression, but his face was turned away from her.

  The silence dragged on long enough she wondered if he’d tell her. What was so wrong that he wasn’t willing to share it with her?

  Finally, Farrendel let out a breath and faced her. “What I am about to tell you must not be repeated. Your brothers cannot know, as it would give Escarland the means to defeat Tarenhiel if our kingdoms ever go to war again.”

  “The trolls know this big secret, don’t they?” Essie found one of Farrendel’s hands and clasped his fingers, hoping the connection of the heart bond steadied him. This couldn’t be good, if Farrendel was taking so many words to get to the point.

  “Yes.” Farrendel’s thumb rubbed along the back of her hand. “You have never asked me how the trolls managed to capture me.”

  It seemed like a random change of topic. Yet, why had Essie never thought to ask? She’d seen Farrendel use his magic. How had the trolls managed to capture him, much less keep him prisoner?

  Fifteen years ago, he had still been the elf equivalent of a teenager. His magic might not have been as strong as it was now. But Farrendel would still have been formidable.

  She had never dared ask much about the torture and the resulting scars. She figured he would tell her when he was ready.

  The middle of the night after a nightmare didn’t seem like the time she would’ve picked for this conversation, but if Farrendel wanted to talk now, she wasn’t going to cut him off. She clasped his hands in both of hers. “What happened?”

  He was trembling, as if trapped in a snowbank instead of blankets. “I was just coming into my magic, and with both my father and brother on the front lines fighting the trolls, I wanted to help. My father refused to have me fight directly, but he finally grew desperate enough to let me provide a shield. My magic was powerful enough it drew the attention of the trolls. One night, the trolls attacked our camp. While I provided a shield for my father and brother, a squad of trolls sneaked around our line and captured me.”

  Essie eased closer to Farrendel. How had the trolls managed to capture him? Was it something like that ambush? Did they surround him and finally train enough guns on him to break through his magical shield?

  Farrendel stared at the wood beams of the ceiling above. “Somehow, the trolls had learned our weakness. Stone impedes elven magic. For most, like my sisters, it is just a faint dulling. But I am, apparently, very affected.”

  “Right now, in the palace, your magic isn’t as strong? You did magic earlier for my nephews. Were you able to do it because it was just a few sparks?” Essie raised her gaze, searching his face to read his expression. For as vulnerable as his words were, his expression remained shuttered.

  “Yes. I can still use a great deal of my magic, even here. It is painful, yet not impossible, even if I am touching the stone.” Farrendel gave a shudder that traveled all the way down to his fingers clasped in hers. “But if the stone is laced with troll magic, it actively blocks my magic. The trolls can manipulate both rock and ice. The late troll king, and now his two sons, wielded a very potent form of their magic. It was the troll king who personally used his magic to keep me contained.”

  A sudden nausea churned through Essie’s stomach. Surely, he couldn’t mean...

  He pushed up his sleeve, revealing the thin scars trailing up his arm. “He threaded rock beneath my skin so that I could not use my magic. When I was rescued, it took hours to remove all the stone.”

  His scars. Essie ran her fingers over one of the scars trailing up his
arm. If using his magic with stone nearby hurt, how much did it hurt to have stone embedded beneath his skin?

  “My father died rescuing me. I could not use my magic to defend us, and...” Farrendel drew his knees up, his head hanging. “My father died because of me.”

  That’s what his nightmares were about. All this stone dampening his magic reminded him too much of the torture he suffered and the moment his father was killed rescuing him. “Your father loved you. He willingly sacrificed himself to save you from torture. It’s what any parent would do for their child.”

  “He should not have. Not for me.”

  “Yes, for you. You are his son. He loved you.” Essie rested a hand on Farrendel’s cheek, tipping his face toward her. “Don’t lessen his love or downplay what he did. Love is a sacrifice. It’s putting someone else’s needs above your own. Your father did that for you.”

  Farrendel gave her a nod so slight she only felt it because she had her hand on his cheek. “I became Laesornysh after his death.”

  In Escarland, the rumors about the war between the trolls and the elves had been so vague the timeline had become mixed up. They hadn’t known Laesornysh was just a grieving teenage elf with far too much power. She’d never pieced together that the troll king’s death at Farrendel’s hands must have come after Farrendel’s father had been killed. It had been torture and pain and grief that had turned Farrendel into a warrior and an assassin.

  She had seen a similar rage during the trolls’ ambush. Even when he’d been hurt, Farrendel’s magic had exploded with terrifying fury. “Is your magic fueled by emotions?”

  Magic and emotions were tied. She had seen that at work with the heart bond that had formed between her and Farrendel. The deep emotion of love had melded with magic to bind them together.

  Could anger and pain do something similar with Farrendel’s magic?

  “Yes, in a way.” Farrendel turned away from her again, pulling back from her touch. “The more I give in to an emotion, the less control I have over the magic. I am not sure what would happen if I ever completely lost control.”

  She loved Farrendel, but sometimes his magic could be downright terrifying. If he ever lost control of his magic, it might just destroy a kingdom, and himself along with it.

  No wonder he didn’t want her brothers to know all this. If they knew the extent of his magic, they might begin planning a way to neutralize him if they needed to. It was just practicality and politics.

  Essie rested her head on Farrendel’s shoulder. “Are you going to be all right, staying here? I didn’t realize staying inside Winstead Palace would be so hard for you. Maybe you should have stayed in Tarenhiel.”

  Saying the words hurt deep inside her chest. She’d wanted him to love her family and to fit into her home the way she had into his. But she should’ve realized how much of an impossible dream that was. She might be flexible and adaptable, but Farrendel wasn’t. It wasn’t his fault. It was the way he was, and the damage from the torture and trauma only made it worse.

  Farrendel leaned his head on top of hers. “This is your home. I will be fine.”

  He wasn’t. He couldn’t sleep because of nightmares. The stone was apparently physically and magically affecting him. That was far from fine.

  What should she do? She couldn’t ask Farrendel to continue to suffer like this. Even if she appreciated that he was willing to sacrifice for her, this wasn’t the kind of sacrifice she should ask of him. “Farrendel...”

  “I will be fine.” His voice had something of a growl to it this time. “You sacrificed much to move to Estyra. I have dealt with these nightmares for a long time. I can survive this.”

  That wasn’t encouraging. She didn’t want him just to survive.

  But they might not have an option here. There would be more diplomatic meetings, a few parties, balls, and other things that would keep them inside the palace. For the sake of peace, they needed to be here.

  Why did coming home have to be this difficult?

  ESSIE WOKE to her husband literally bouncing off the walls. Well, bouncing might not be the right word, but he was ricocheting off the walls and even the ceiling in a way she hadn’t thought possible until that moment.

  Farrendel dashed across the room, launched himself from a chair with such grace the chair didn’t so much as wiggle, much less tip, and ran partially up the wall before he flipped backwards and landed easily on his feet. With barely a pause, he spun, did a springing leap from the top of the bookshelf, pushed off the ceiling, and flipped once again before landing on the bedpost.

  He must have noticed she was awake since he did a small flip and landed cross-legged on the end of the bed.

  Essie sat up and pushed her hair out of her face. “Sorry. You should have gotten me up.”

  There was a wooded section on the grounds that would have done Farrendel some good, though he probably would have needed her to let the guards know that he was allowed there.

  It hurt how little freedom Farrendel had here. In Estyra, Essie had been able to wander through the elven palace on a whim without an escort. No one had paid any attention to her.

  Here, Farrendel didn’t even dare wander the hall by himself without fear the guards would misinterpret his actions. What kind of message did that send? It was as if he was still an enemy, not her husband.

  “What do you need? Do you want me to ask a guard to show you a place outside that has trees?” Essie rubbed at her eyes. She had gotten far too little sleep the past few nights.

  Farrendel tipped his chin in his small nod and rocked back and forth. “Where do you find food in the morning? You do not have a cold cupboard.”

  As much as she wanted to lie in the warmth for a while longer, she had too much to do. She pushed off the covers and slid her feet over the edge of the bed. “We either have to ask a servant to fetch a breakfast tray or there is always a breakfast laid out in the dining room for my family to eat if we wish.”

  “Your servants make even your breakfast for you?” Farrendel still sat on the end of the bed, elbows on his knees.

  “Human royalty is less self-sufficient than elven royalty.” Essie yawned and tiptoed across the rugs to her wardrobe. The day would be packed with diplomatic meetings so she probably should wear a dress, not tunic and pants. That would scandalize a few people, and scandalizing the old fuddies in Parliament would not help their cause.

  She pulled out her midnight blue elven-style dress and laid it out on the bed. “If you want to take a minute to wash up, we can go down to breakfast. If you’d prefer, I’ll ask one of the servants to deliver a tray of food for you tomorrow morning so you don’t have to wait so long for breakfast.”

  “Do not make more work for them on my account.” Farrendel slid to his feet.

  It wasn’t much extra work for them to load some of the food they were already setting out in the dining room and bring the tray to their room. At least, she didn’t think it would be, especially since they were probably making special, less-seasoned food for the elves anyway. She would ask Chef Figo next time she stopped by the kitchen.

  Farrendel padded into the attached water closet, only to come back out a few seconds later. “You do not have a shower spigot.”

  “No, we humans just figured out running water a few years ago, so we only added a faucet to the bathtubs we were already using. Maybe eventually your elven showers will catch on here, but right now, everyone still bathes in a tub.” A long soak in a tub. How she’d missed it over in Estyra.

  Farrendel cocked his head, eyebrows scrunched together. “How do you wash your hair?”

  Now Essie understood his puzzlement, beyond the cultural difference. His hair was just as long as hers, and, if she’d learned anything about elves in the past few months, their long hair was significant to them.

  “Well, usually I wash my hair separately and sometimes have a maid help.” Essie had to bite her lip to stop her grin, waiting for Farrendel’s reaction.

  The slight widenin
g of his eyes, his raised eyebrows, and the half a step back was the most scandalized shock she’d ever seen on him. His nose even wrinkled a bit, as if in pure disgust at the thought of some random servant helping to wash his hair.

  She could offer to help with his hair, but she didn’t think they were quite there yet. They had just started sharing a room and a bed a few days ago. There were still personal space boundaries neither of them was ready to cross yet.

  “Or”— Essie had to smother a laugh at the way his shoulders relaxed a fraction at just the thought of having another option— “I kneel next to the tub and stick my head under the faucet. Not as easy as your elven showers, but it works.”

  That wrinkle was back on his nose again. She might have to scandalize him more often if he looked this adorable doing it.

  With a straightening of his shoulders as if going into battle, Farrendel disappeared into the water closet again.

  Essie changed into the blue dress and took a seat behind her dressing table. In Estyra, she’d taken to wearing her hair down and loose in the elven style, but here in Winstead Palace, she probably should pin her hair up. Especially since they were going to face Parliament today.

  Without a maid to help her, the style wouldn’t be as elaborate as it could be. But Essie’s personal maid had taken the opportunity of Essie’s marriage to finally admit her feelings for a certain footman, and they’d gotten married only a week after Essie had. She wished her all the best and would have to send a wedding present.

  Essie probably could’ve asked for another maid, but it wouldn’t be nice to temporarily promote someone to lady’s maid, only to demote them once Essie returned to Estyra. Besides, Farrendel was already edgy. They didn’t need a maid adding more to his discomfort.

  Still, a maid’s help would have been nice. Essie jabbed another pin into her hair, trying to get it to stay in place. One downside of the magical elven conditioner was that it made her hair so sleek and soft that it kept sliding right out of the pins instead of staying in place. She’d even skipped washing it the night before since dirty hair stayed in pins better.