by Tara Grayce
“It wasn’t really public. It was just your family.” Essie heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Elves have this weird thing against public displays of affection of any kind. Seriously. You can’t even hold hands more than a couple of fingers. Not even in front of close family.”
“That’s it. I’m moving to Tarenhiel.” Edmund clapped Farrendel on the shoulder. “You have an extra room where I can bunk down?”
“No touchy-feely stuff of any kind.” Essie nudged Edmund’s hand from Farrendel’s shoulder. “Not even brotherly affection. Elves have large personal spaces.”
Edmund grinned, as if she’d just given him the best weapon for brotherly teasing. That wasn’t comforting. Edmund might be the youngest of the three brothers, but he was the sneakiest. She wasn’t sure how he’d decide to use his new-found knowledge.
The train shuddered and screeched to a halt.
Averett pushed to his feet. “Looks like we’re here.”
Jalissa and her guard followed Averett from the train, almost tripping on his heels. Farrendel climbed to his feet slowly, as if any sudden moves could send his stomach lurching in directions he didn’t want it to go. But he strode steadily from the train, marching up the stairs from the underground tunnel.
At the top, guards opened the reinforced doors, revealing a spacious corridor with black and white marble tiled floor and vaulted, arched ceilings soaring high overhead. Sunlight streamed into the hall from a bank of windows overlooking the broad expanse of the river with the other half of Aldon beyond while, on the other side of the corridor, a small atrium held a single tree and a few bushes.
Essie tugged Farrendel in the direction of the atrium. Not that it took much urging on her part. “Avie, while you check if Parliament is ready for us, Farrendel, Jalissa, and I are going to step into the atrium for a moment.”
None of her family questioned her. Maybe, despite Jalissa’s and Farrendel’s best efforts to appear blank and forbidding, some of their desperation showed through the cracks.
As soon as they stepped inside the atrium, Farrendel let go of her hand and sank to the ground, his back to the tree. He closed his eyes, breathing slowly and deeply.
Jalissa glanced around, a hint of a wrinkle on her nose. She touched the tree, her hand glowing faintly green. Moments later, the tree’s leaves brightened. More leaves thickened the canopy overhead while the bushes and grass below filled in to a strong, solid carpet.
Some of the tension left Farrendel’s shoulders. “You humans live far too much indoors.”
With their airy treehouses and pathways along the tree branches, the elves lived nearly always in the open air with nothing but the thick foliage of their forest above them. Coming to Winstead Palace must have been a shock. They hadn’t stepped outside since the brief walk from the train to the palace.
It had been normal to go about her day often never leaving Winstead Palace. Forays outside were brief hours spent in the garden or walking Aldon’s market or doing charity work. Stone walls surrounding her made her feel safe. They didn’t bring panic attacks or dampen magic the way they did for Farrendel.
Edmund stepped into the atrium. “They are ready for you. Which, for Parliament, means they want you to sit in your seats feeling uncomfortable for another hour or so until they finally admit they want you.”
Jalissa brushed off her skirt, even though she’d never sat in the dirt. “They will not keep us waiting.” She swept from the atrium, head held high. Her guard, who had stationed herself at the door, fell into step behind her.
Essie grinned and held out a hand to Farrendel. “I guess if you make a grand enough entrance, no one keeps you waiting.”
Farrendel glanced at her hand, as if he wasn’t sure what to do with her gesture, and rose to his feet without her help. Essie couldn’t put her finger on the exact moment, but sometime between sitting and standing, he had gone from vulnerable Farrendel to the elf warrior Laesornysh. His face hardened, his jaw set.
He held his arm out to her, and she rested her hand on his forearm in the elven manner rather than tuck her hand in the crook of his arm in the custom of Escarland.
She held her head high, her shoulders back. They were about to make an entrance, and she was going to look every inch a princess of both Escarland and Tarenhiel.
At the end of the hall, the guards opened the doors to Parliament’s meeting hall, too in awe of Jalissa to argue.
Averett remained outside. As the king, Parliament’s hall was considered off limits for him, though it wasn’t for Julien, Edmund, or Essie. They all marched in after Jalissa.
Escarland’s Parliament was arranged in several tiers in a half circle facing the center. A podium was in the center where members could address the rest. Unlike the elven council, with its quiet serenity, several Parliament members were already shouting at each other even before Jalissa marched into the room.
At their entrance, several Parliament members shot to their feet. It took a moment for their shouts to solidify into various forms of, “What is the meaning of this?”
Julien stepped onto the podium. “Esteemed Parliament members, the ambassador from Tarenhiel, Princess Jalissa, would like to address this assembly.”
Lord Crelford, one of the lords who did not exactly like elves but did not hate them either, climbed to his feet. “We told you we’d let you in when we were ready.”
Jalissa speared him with one of her looks. “I am ready now. I came here in good faith to bring the goodwill of my people to yours. But if you do not wish to hear what I have to say, then I will leave. I am sure Mongalia or Afristan will be more open to the trade deals I am prepared to present.”
Oh, Jalissa was good. Essie struggled to keep her expression regal as she stood next to Farrendel off to the side.
Most of the Parliament members took their seats, pausing just long enough to pretend it had been their idea. Lord Crelford made a magnanimous motion with his hand. “Please make your case.”
Not exactly the best invitation, but it was the best Jalissa was probably going to get.
Jalissa held her head high and faced the ranks of the members. “Six months ago, the incidents at the border between Escarland and Tarenhiel escalated to the point that citizens of both kingdoms were raiding across the border. Destruction and eventually deaths occurred. Your king and mine both decried these actions and took the unprecedented step to meet and sign a peace treaty, a peace treaty that was strengthened by the marriage of my brother Prince Farrendel Laesornysh to your Princess Elspeth.”
When Jalissa gestured to Essie and Farrendel, Essie glanced up at Farrendel and smiled. It was for show for Parliament, but she hoped some of the true warmth of her feelings for Farrendel had shown through.
He, of course, remained cold and still as an ice statue.
“For three months, we have had peace.” Jalissa’s jaw tightened. “But, recently, the royal family of Tarenhiel was attacked by trolls using Escarlish weapons. Your king has assured me that this was caused by the actions of a few traitors in your midst and does not represent the view of most in Escarland.”
That gained her some nods, but also some crossed arms. A few glares.
Lord Kranshaw shot to his feet. “You filthy elves would’ve had it coming.”
Jalissa stiffened. Beside Essie, Farrendel’s magic crackled beneath the surface. Essie felt it building, ready to be unleashed. She should’ve expected Lord Kranshaw to speak up. He was up there on her list of possible traitors in Parliament. He had enough hatred of the elves.
“Now, now.” Lord Bletchly held his hands out, palms up. “No need to insult our guests.”
Lord Bletchly. He had lost a son in the war, but he was one of the few who didn’t seem to unequivocally hate elves because of it. He tended to be a voice of reason in Parliament.
A cane thumped on the floor, drawing everyone’s attention to the white-haired lord sitting in his chair near the center of the room. Lord Fiskre was one of the oldest lords there, and one of the most res
pected. He cleared his throat in the silence. “I, for one, would like to hear what she has to say. I’m eighty-three-years young, and I remember a time when Tarenhiel and Escarland were at peace. I grew up on stories from a time when our kingdoms had more of a friendship than they do now. I would like to see where Princess Elspeth and her elf can take our two kingdoms.”
Essie knew there was a reason she had always liked Lord Fiskre.
Jalissa gave a slight nod. “Thanks to Princess Elspeth and the actions of your King Averett, King Weylind, my brother, has gained a new respect for Escarland. We have seen the way the times are changing. No kingdom will be able to stand alone. We have seen the strength in Escarland. We are not offering a stronger alliance with Mongalia or Afristan. We are reaching to you as the kingdom with whom we wish to ally.”
Several of the lords murmured. Some had louder discussions with each other. Lord Crelford huffed and crossed his arms. “Why should we ally with you? Why would we risk being drawn into your war with Kostaria? What do you have to offer Escarland?”
“Thanks to the traitor operating within your borders, you are already in this war, though you do not know it.” Jalissa’s mouth tilted into a sharp kind of smile. “Thanks to our healers, we can show you advances in your medical practices. We can offer magically infused products, like our shampoo and conditioners, that your magicians cannot manufacturer.”
That had lords like Lord Bletchly nodding. Trade they could understand.
“And we can offer our magic.” Jalissa gestured toward Farrendel.
A crackle built a moment before blue lightning swirled from Farrendel’s palms and up his arms. He raised his hand and magic exploded in the air before it dissipated in a fizzle of sparks in a bigger, more powerful version of what he’d done for the nephews.
About half the Parliament members were now huddled on the floor by their chairs. Others had jumped to their feet, as if preparing to run.
Guards dashed into the room, but Julien held up his hand, holding them back.
Even Essie, knowing how powerful his magic was and that this was such a small demonstration of it, had found herself taking a step back.
“That is the kind of magic found in Tarenhiel. If you wish to beg for a defense alliance, I will be at Winstead Palace.” Jalissa spun on her heel and marched from the podium.
Essie should be taking notes on how to make a dramatic exit. Jalissa sure knew how to make a statement.
THE SCREAM YANKED Essie from sleep. She bolted upright, heart racing, and peeled her gritty eyes open. After the train ride underground to Parliament and back, she’d expected nightmares tonight. Farrendel had paced long into the night, as if he’d hoped collapsing into bed from exhaustion would stave off the nightmares.
Farrendel curled in a tight ball beneath the blankets, shaking. He cried out again, his head sheltered beneath his arms.
“Farrendel. It’s all right. Wake up.” Essie touched his shoulder to shake him awake.
He whipped around, eyes wild. His forearm knocked her hand away. A crackle filled the air a moment before blue sparks exploded outward.
The prickle of magic raked across her skin, the hair on her arms standing on end. The lamp behind her shattered, glass pinging against the wall and oil spilling onto the nightstand. Thankfully the sparks of Farrendel’s magic didn’t ignite it.
“Farrendel?” Essie didn’t dare move. In the hall outside her room, there came the sounds of doors slamming open, people shouting.
His eyes cleared, then widened. “No...no...Essie...” He scrambled backwards from her, but he’d already been pressed to the edge of the bed. He tumbled off, the back of his head thunking against the nightstand.
“Farrendel.” Essie crawled across the bed and peered down at him. “Are you all right?”
He was sitting on the floor, a hand to the back of his head. He glanced up at her, his silver-blue eyes pained and still confused.
Her door banged open, and Julien burst inside, a knife in his hand, followed by Edmund and Averett. All three of them wore trousers and their night shirts.
Farrendel raised his free hand, a crackle filling the air again, expression wild.
“Essie, are you all right?” Averett stepped forward, fists clenched, as if he was convinced she wasn’t.
Essie rolled from the bed, planting herself between Farrendel and her brothers, shielding him and hopefully giving him time and space to claw the rest of the way out of the nightmare. “I’m fine, Avie. I wasn’t the one screaming.”
Julien and Edmund lowered their knife and fists. But none of her brothers moved, still tensed for trouble, as if they didn’t fully believe her. Behind them, Mother peered inside, tying the belt of her dressing gown around her waist.
Essie needed to get them out of the room. Farrendel needed space, not her brothers gawking at him. “Everyone, out. Get out.” When they didn’t move, she hurried forward and shoved Averett in the chest. “He needs space.”
She bodily herded her brothers out the door into the sitting room. The way they were crossing their arms, glaring, said they wanted an explanation. But Farrendel was still huddled on the floor, struggling with the aftereffects of his nightmare.
Essie hesitated in the door between the bedroom and sitting room. Would her brothers wait while she calmed Farrendel down? She couldn’t just leave Farrendel shaking and panicking as he was.
Mother touched Essie’s shoulder. “Sort out your brothers. I’ll sit with Farrendel.”
“Are you sure?” Essie couldn’t force herself to move, pulled in two directions.
“Yes. Go on.”
At least her mother understood the situation, far more than her brothers did. Essie stepped aside. “Thank you.”
Mother swept inside and softly closed the door behind her. Giving Farrendel space and giving Essie a chance to explain.
She turned back to her brothers. They were lined up, arms crossed, feet apart.
Ready to take on the world for her if she needed them to. Even if she didn’t at the moment.
Farrendel gripped his knees, shaking and trying to fight through the last tatters of the nightmares. Pain lanced through his head as it pounded. His stomach churned until he thought he might vomit there on the floral rug.
Essie...what had he done? Caught in the tumble between the nightmare and waking, his memories of the last few minutes were splintered. Was it nightmare or reality that he had lashed out?
The door to the room clicked, and soft footsteps crossed the rugs. Not Essie’s. These were slower, not as quick and bouncing.
His heart raced, his mouth drying, his magic crackling in his fingers even as he struggled to yank it back in. He forced himself to raise his head and look, trying to steady his breathing and swallow back the panic.
Essie’s mother eased down onto the rug. She gave him a soft smile. “Sitting on the floor isn’t as easy as it used to be.”
He blinked at her. What was she doing here? After what had nearly happened, surely she would hate him. Or be wary, at the very least.
Her mother did not waver, and something in the expression reminded him of Essie. “I know you don’t know me very well, yet. But I hope we will have a chance to get to know each other better.”
“Why?” Farrendel lifted a shaking hand to rub at his temple. Sharp pain stabbed from the base of his skull all the way to behind his eyes. Why would Essie’s mother want to know him? Surely she saw him as the person who had taken her daughter away to a foreign kingdom, rarely to return.
“Essie is special to me. She’s my only daughter. But that also means you’re special to me, too.” Essie’s mother was poised, as if she wanted to reach out and hug him. Something he only recognized thanks to Essie. “I have three sons, but you are my only son-in-law.”
Something deep inside his chest ached. As a young child, he had believed the late elf queen had been his mother, as she was for his siblings. He had hung on their stories about her, imaging how she would have loved him if she had liv
ed.
Melantha had finally been the one to gather the courage to tell him the person the rest of his siblings called mother did not belong to him. The dream of her that he had built in his mind had never truly existed. How could it have hurt so much to lose someone who had never truly been his?
“I never had a mother.” He did not know why he was telling Essie’s mother that. She would assume, as the rest of Essie’s family had, that the late queen had been his mother and he had never known her because of her death. He hoped they would never add up the dates and realize that the truth was much worse.
“You poor boy.” Essie’s mother met his gaze. “You have me now, if you want.”
The next thing he knew, Essie’s mother shifted so that she was next to him and pulled him in for a hug, as if he was a small child she was comforting.
He held himself stiffly. What was he supposed to do now? It was everything he had longed for when he was a child.
But he was no longer a child. He had not been a child from the moment the trolls had wrapped his arms with magic-laced stone and dragged him back to their base for torture while they lured his father into a trap.
Still, he forced himself to relax. This was the family Essie had grown up with. Her mother was the reason Essie was so warm and caring, even though she had been even younger than Farrendel when she had lost her father.
Perhaps he could get used to having a mother for the first time in his life.
Essie crossed her arms and glared back at her brothers.
Averett broke first and stepped forward, reaching for her as if intending to hug her. “Are you truly all right, Essie? You aren’t just smiling and carrying on like you always do.”
“I told you. I’m fine.” She gritted her teeth. She was too tired to deal with their lingering suspicion of Farrendel. They had seen him come near breaking on the train to and from Parliament. They had almost seemed to be bonding. And now they were back to being suspicious. She was grateful for their concern, truly. But this was getting ridiculous. “That was Farrendel. He struggles with nightmares, all right? And staying here isn’t helping things any. The stone...”
