by Tara Grayce
She tried to ignore the splashing and thumping coming from the water closet. At least Essie knew Farrendel could swim. He wasn’t likely to drown.
As she added what she hoped was the last pin to her hair, Farrendel trooped from the water closet, wearing his silver tunic and trousers. His hair lay washed and wet down his back.
“I see you didn’t drown.” Essie swiveled in her chair and stood, grinning.
“No.” The scathing look he sent toward the bathtub suggested it had been a hard-fought battle. But when he glanced back at her, his gaze was soft, searching. “Is this what it was like for you in Estyra? Always...” he paused, as if unsure how to word what he was thinking and feeling, “...out of place?”
What should she say? She had been determined to adapt and claim Estyra as her home, and that had helped with some of the awkwardness. Farrendel didn’t have the pressure to try to make Winstead Palace his new home. He knew he was just visiting for a short time. And he, at least, could understand the conversations around him. Essie hadn’t even had that when she’d first arrived in Estyra.
Essie joined him and threaded her fingers with his. “It was tough, at first. I was glad you were patient and helpful when I didn’t know what was going on or even what everyone was saying. I just muddled through it and tried not to care what anyone thought. That’s how I tackle most things in life, to be honest.”
“I knew it was difficult for you, but I did not understand what it was like. I am sorry.” Farrendel hesitated, then wrapped his arm around her in a stiff attempt at a quick hug.
“You helped a lot, answering all my endless questions. Don’t be afraid to ask. I won’t laugh. Much.” Essie couldn’t help but grin. He already had asked questions when confused by Escarlish culture. At least their relationship was at a point where they felt comfortable asking each other random questions without censure.
“If there is anything you wish to transport to Estyra to make it feel more like your home, then please do.”
“Even a bathtub?” Her grin widened at his scowl.
“Yes. Though I do not understand why.”
“They can be very relaxing, when you’re not wrestling with them trying to wash your hair properly.” Essie took a step toward the door. “Ready for breakfast?”
“Yes. Please.” Farrendel sounded almost desperate.
She would need to make sure he had something to eat first thing in the morning. Or, maybe, by the end of this visit, the guards would relax enough that Farrendel could wander to the family dining room by himself.
The family dining room was in the same wing, but on the main floor instead of the second floor. They strolled down the center of the corridor and down the very middle of the stairs, something Essie understood better now that she knew the stone walls affected Farrendel’s magic. She’d been wondering if he was just freaked out by having so many solid, non-living walls around him after growing up in the treehouse palace.
Was it wrong that she was somewhat relieved at having solid stone walls around her and firm stone stairs beneath her, even if they made Farrendel uncomfortable? And handrails. How she’d missed real, solid handrails and walking somewhere without that lingering fear of falling to her death always in the back of her mind.
She pushed open the door to the family dining room and drew in a deep breath of the savory smells of sausage and eggs and toast and pancakes. A hot breakfast. How she’d missed it.
She had missed more of life at Winstead Palace than she’d realized. As much as she loved her new life in Estyra, three months living there hadn’t been long enough for the newness and excitement to fade. What would it be like once the adventure wore off? Once homesickness for her family and familiar life settled in?
Perhaps she would take Farrendel up on his offer and make a list of what she’d like to bring back to Estyra. Maybe if she made her elven home in Estyra a little more human, she wouldn’t end up feeling as out of place as Farrendel confessed to feeling here.
And, as long as she could prevent war between Escarland and Tarenhiel, she would always be able to come home to Winstead Palace to visit. Maybe even invite her family to Estyra.
Edmund was already in the breakfast room along with Mother, Jalissa, and Jalissa’s guard whose name Essie had yet to hear. The elf guard took her job so seriously she didn’t seem inclined toward idle chatter. Not that elves in general often indulged in idle chatter.
Jalissa had stationed herself at the far end of the room, something in her blank expression more forbidding than usual. Farrendel let go of Essie’s hand and strolled across the room to his sister. With their heads bent together, they began talking softly in elvish.
Was that almost the hint of dark circles under Jalissa’s eyes? It was hard to tell on Jalissa’s perfectly smooth face, but her skin seemed too pale. Was staying in a stone palace affecting her just as it was Farrendel?
Perhaps this was why negotiations with elves had never gone that well. The elves didn’t want to admit stone was their weakness, yet humans kept inviting them into stone palaces, stone forts, even stone islands in the middle of the river, to conduct peace talks.
Essie scooped eggs onto her plate, adding sausage and a pancake liberally doused with maple syrup, before she claimed a seat next to Edmund.
“You look tired.” Edmund waved a bite of sausage at her, then at Jalissa and Farrendel across the room. “So do they.”
Edmund’s room shared a wall with hers. A thick wall, so he shouldn’t have been able to hear Farrendel cry out in his sleep.
“I’m fine, really. It has just been a busy few days.” So much had happened, it was hard to remember they’d been ambushed by trolls less than a week ago.
The door burst open, giving entrance to two nephews running full tilt while Paige scrambled to keep up behind them.
“Auntie Essie!” Both of them ran to give her hugs, as if they’d forgotten they’d just seen her the night before.
Still, she hugged them close, savoring the feel of their small arms wrapping tight. Hugs from the nephews would be few and far between with her living in Estyra. When she pulled back, she pointed at Farrendel. “Think you can give Uncle Farrendel a hug too?”
Finn looked at her with big, round eyes and shook his head. But Bertie dashed over and plowed into Farrendel’s legs with enough force to make Farrendel sway under the impact. Bertie stopped just long enough to give Farrendel a squeezing hug around both legs before dashing back to Essie. “Can you play with us?”
“We need to eat breakfast first.” Then they would hold diplomatic meetings with the general of the army and the owner of the largest gun manufacturer in Escarland, followed by attending the afternoon session of Parliament, which would last who knew how long. They wouldn’t catch much of a break for relaxing.
As much as she wanted to relax and spend time with family, that wasn’t her main purpose here. She had to remember that to the north in Tarenhiel, the elves were mobilizing to defend themselves. Essie wanted to push her brothers to secure Escarland’s help against the trolls, but that would drag both kingdoms she loved into this war. Yet, if Escarland didn’t help, would Tarenhiel fall this time?
She glanced at Farrendel, where he and Jalissa were now gathering plates and dishing themselves food. Without Escarland’s help, the weight of defending Tarenhiel would fall squarely on Farrendel’s shoulders.
It might break him. He was already so broken from all the torture and war and death he’d endured and inflicted. What would more do to him? He was a warrior, but a warrior who felt every life he was forced to take so very keenly. Even if he didn’t die in this war, it could very well kill him from the inside out.
As Farrendel took the other seat next to Essie, Julien and Averett entered the room. Averett held a piece of paper in his hand, and he scanned the room a moment before his gaze focused on Farrendel. He strolled over and held out the paper. “Telegram from across the border.”
Farrendel took it and read while Essie glanced from Averett to F
arrendel. Had the trolls launched a large-scale invasion? Was Farrendel needed to be Laesornysh and defend his home? “Is your brother ordering you home?”
Farrendel set down the paper. “Not yet. But he believes I will only have a week before I need to return to Tarenhiel.”
A week. They’d hoped to have more time. Two weeks. Maybe even three.
Essie swallowed back the hard lump, shoving it aside with a deep breath. “All right. I guess we need to make the most of our time while we are here.”
“When I am called back to Tarenhiel, you do not have to return with me.” Farrendel met her gaze, then reached out and rested his hand on hers. “If the negotiations are not finished, you and Jalissa will need to stay here to finish them. You will be safe here, whatever the war brings.”
Behind her, Averett cleared his throat. “Bad news?”
Essie hadn’t realized she and Farrendel had been speaking in elvish.
“It seems our new brother-in-law might only be able to stay a week. I guess it’s a good thing you moved the meeting with Parliament to this afternoon and the other meetings to this morning.” Edmund, of course, had understood every word. It was rather hard to have privacy when one of her brothers was a spy. When Essie glanced over her shoulder, Edmund’s gaze switched from Averett to Farrendel, and he spoke in elvish. “She is our sister. We will make sure she is safe.”
Farrendel held Edmund’s gaze for a long moment, before he tipped his head in a small nod. Some sort of understanding acknowledged between him and Edmund.
Essie wanted to huff and roll her eyes at their over-protectiveness. As if she was something breakable to be passed between them, always surrounded by guards.
But this was war. It wasn’t something to be laughed off flippantly. In wars, whole towns were overrun. Innocent people were slaughtered. Being able to use a musket to defend herself might not be enough. Not in a war fought as much with magic as with guns.
Nor did she truly want to be in that position to have to take a life yet again. She bit back the surge of bile at the memory of the jerk of the gun in her hand, the troll falling before her.
A part of her wished she was an elven warrior so that she could run into battle at Farrendel’s back, protecting him while he protected her. She wanted to declare she’d carry her gun into battle at his side.
But her presence would distract him from doing what he needed to do. He couldn’t go into battle worried for her.
Besides, she could do more good for all of the elves if she stayed here. Even if Escarland didn’t go to war on Tarenhiel’s side, it might be persuaded to offer aid. Perhaps food or supplies. Maybe a safe refuge for those fleeing the war.
Essie gave Farrendel a nod to let him know she understood.
Averett heaved a sigh. “This is worse than when you and Edmund made up a secret language so you could pass notes to each other the rest of us couldn’t read.”
“Oh, come now. At least they are talking out loud. That’s less strange than when you and Paige do your whole eye and facial expression discussions.” Julien tipped his chair back on two legs, which earned him a glare across the table from Mother.
As he set his chair back on all four legs, Paige gave him a swat on the arm for good measure.
One week. That’s all the time they had before the reality of coming war came crashing down on them once again.
ESSIE SCRAPED the last of her cheesecake from her plate. Mostly because the cheesecake was excellent, and it would be a shame to waste even a crumb. But partly to delay the inevitable when this mid-morning desert turned into a political discussion. It was the reason they had come. Still, it wouldn’t be pleasant.
She, Farrendel, Jalissa, and all of Essie’s brothers had assembled in one of the private council rooms around a large oak table.
Jalissa set down her fork and motioned. The Escarlish soldier at the door opened it. The elf guard stepped inside, holding a canvas-wrapped bundle.
Essie sighed and set down her own fork. She couldn’t put this off any longer.
Jalissa stood and took the canvas-wrapped gun from her guard. “King Averett, would you care to explain this?” She placed the gun on the table and whipped off the canvas.
Averett pointed at the gun. “This is one of the Escarlish guns found after that ambush?”
Essie had wired her brother a short version of the story when she’d let him know she, Farrendel, and Jalissa would be coming, along with the purpose behind their visit. Though, she had downplayed just how much danger she had been in.
“The trolls that ambushed the royal family less than a week ago were using these guns as well as one of your advanced repeater guns.” Jalissa’s gaze was sharp, her voice hard, as she stared at Averett.
“It was not my doing, if that is what you are asking. Surely you’ve observed our family interactions enough even in the few hours since you have arrived to see I love my sister very much. I would never aid an ambush that would place her life in danger.” Averett gestured to the gun. “This is the work of a traitor, and we have already started an investigation into the matter. Edmund, do you have anything you can add?”
Edmund stared at the gun, his face taut. “It’s worrisome that I haven’t heard anything about guns being traded to the trolls. Whoever these traitors are, they are very smart, very cautious, and well respected enough to be above scrutiny. I have, however, heard rumors about groups who aren’t happy with our new treaty with Tarenhiel. Many still hold grudges from the war. I haven’t heard anything to make me think any of the grumblers were organized enough to pull off something like this.”
Julien picked up the gun, turning it over in his hands with the ease of someone used to handling weapons. “To get a hold of these guns, the traitors must be high in the army or work at the factory that makes them.”
Averett nodded, as if this was exactly the comment he had been waiting to hear. “That is why I have invited General Freilan, the top general in Escarland’s army, here today to answer our questions. I have also asked Charles Hadley, the owner of the largest manufacturer of weapons for the Escarlish army, here as well once we have finished our discussion with the general.”
Essie settled into a more comfortable position in her chair. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed watching her brothers tag-team a meeting.
Averett motioned, and the guard opened a different door, this time admitting General Freilan. He wore his dress uniform with rows of medals and gold braid dripping down each shoulder. He saluted Averett. “Your Majesty.”
“Please inform the crown and the ambassador from Tarenhiel on the progress of your investigation into how Escarlish army weapons came to be in the hands of Kostarians attacking the Tarenhieli royal family.”
Essie tried not to shift. She had gotten used to hearing the elves referring to kingdom to the north simply as the trolls. But here in this diplomatic meeting, Averett would use their kingdom name to refer to them to keep the tone of this meeting as official and detached as possible.
The general’s gaze flicked only briefly to Jalissa and Farrendel before he focused on Averett, as he should when reporting to his king. “We have only just begun our investigation. An inventory of all outposts, forts, bases, and warehouses is being conducted as we speak, though it may take several weeks to be completed. I have stressed to everyone the seriousness of this inventory. If there is a traitor in our ranks, I will endeavor to find him with utmost speed.”
“Thank you, General. I expect to see reports of your progress on my desk every morning.” Averett’s gaze didn’t waver, his tone firm. Not afraid to push hard when necessary. Essie imagined their father must have sounded a lot like Averett.
General Freilan saluted again and backed away a few steps before he spun smartly and left the room.
“Please send in Charles Hadley,” Averett ordered, his posture regal and straight.
A man in his fifties strode into the room. His graying hair was cropped short and thinning while his rotund stomach bulge
d against his red linen shirt. Beside him, a young man in his early to mid-twenties strode next to him. The young man had brown, sandy hair long across his forehead. His jaw was chiseled, his eyes a clear blue.
“Your Majesty.” Mr. Hadley bowed to Averett. When his gaze flicked to Jalissa, then Farrendel, his jaw knotted, his eyes going hard. He pointed at the young man next to him. “This is my son, Mark. He is the head of our day-to-day operations.”
Averett gestured to the gun on the table. “Is this one of yours?”
Charles Hadley picked it up, turned it over in his hands, before focusing on a part of the metal stock. Essie had briefly seen the serial number stamped into that metal when she had handled the gun in Tarenhiel. After a second’s consideration, Mr. Hadley returned the gun to the table. “Yes, this was manufactured in my factory.”
“Can you explain how this gun came to be in the hands of the Kostarians?” Averett’s voice remained steady, hard.
Jalissa’s gaze was knife-sharp on Mr. Hadley. Beside Essie, Farrendel was still. Poised. Essie half-expected to feel the crackle of magic at any moment.
“I don’t know.” Mr. Hadley crossed his arms. “Check with the army. This gun was their responsibility.”
“Did this gun ever reach the army?” Julien crossed his arms and stared right back. “That’s why you’re here.”
“I am a loyal citizen of Escarland. I would never knowingly hand over one of my weapons into the hands of a potential enemy.” Mr. Hadley looked about ready to pound the table. Beside him, his son shifted, as if he was worried he would have to restrain his father.
“Even if you knew the gun would be used against the elves?” Averett’s voice was even icier.
“My firstborn son died fighting those pointy-eared monsters.” Mr. Hadley jabbed a finger at Farrendel. Both Farrendel and Jalissa stiffened. Mr. Hadley’s jaw worked. “Yes, I am more than happy when the trolls kill a few of them. But I would never betray my own kingdom to do it.”
