by Tara Grayce
“That is what she attempted to do, yes, and I feared that she would continue to do so any time she needed more money. I counseled Lorsan against paying her, but he instead offered her three times the amount she had been asking for.”
“He offered to pay her more? After she’d shown up to blackmail him?”
For the first time since she’d begun telling this story, the curve returned to Leyleira’s mouth. “Yes. Even though he was not fully certain the child was his, Lorsan knew he could not leave the child in her care. Not when she intended to abandon him. So, instead, he offered her an even larger sum if she would give the child into his care and sign a statement that she would never demand more money or have contact with the child ever again.”
“And she signed?” What mother would give her child away like that?
“Without a moment’s hesitation. Then, once she was paid, she walked away without so much as a farewell to the babe she left behind.”
“What happened to her?” Essie fisted her hands in her lap.
“About twenty years after that, she was killed in a back alley of the same village where she met Lorsan. It seems she attempted to blackmail a human lord from across the border, and this lord was a less honorable sort who decided permanently silencing her was better than either paying or facing the truth when it came out, which it did anyway.” Leyleira shook her head, letting a moment of silence fall between them.
What could Essie say to all of this? Poor Farrendel. How old had he been when he realized the date of the late queen’s death and the date of his birth didn’t line up as they should?
“He was such a tiny babe, much too young to be away from his mother. There were times those first few days and weeks when we were not sure he would survive.” Leyleira’s expression was such a mixture of sadness and joy it was hard to figure out what emotion to call it. Perhaps bittersweet was the closest. “For all the guilt he takes upon himself for his birth, I do not think Farrendel realizes how much he saved his father. Having Farrendel did not take away Lorsan’s grief for Vianola, but Farrendel eased the grief and gave Lorsan much joy after those first difficult weeks. He loved his youngest son deeply, just as much as his other children, and did his best to never treat Farrendel differently or make him feel unworthy because of the circumstances surrounding his birth. If Farrendel feels that way, it is not because Lorsan made him feel that way. That came from others.”
That eased some of the ache Essie felt on Farrendel’s behalf. At least his father had been good to him. Loved him. But even in that, there was hurt. When King Lorsan was killed by the trolls, Farrendel lost the only parent who’d loved him at a time when, in elf years, Farrendel was still a teenager.
“How did King Weylind, Melantha, and Jalissa feel about him? I can tell they are protective of him now, but it couldn’t have been easy on them.” If Essie had the ages figured out correctly, they all would’ve been a couple hundred years old by then. Adults in elf years.
“They were understandably hurt and bewildered at first by what was a betrayal of their mother’s memory. But they all eventually grew to love their youngest half-brother, and by the time he was one, they had become the fiercely protective older siblings they are now. In some ways, because of the circumstances, they are more protective of him than they are even of each other. They spent years protecting him from the snide remarks and scorn of the court while he was growing up.” Leyleira picked up one of the pieces of meat, but only nibbled at it before setting it down again, as if she too couldn’t bring herself to force food into a churning stomach.
“A scandal like that would be difficult to face in my kingdom’s court. I imagine the scandal here must have been terrible.” Essie shook her head, staring at her plate of uneaten food.
“It was. Lorsan wanted to raise Farrendel with all the love he had for his older three children, and that meant he could not quietly hide him away even if he had wanted to. Instead, he had to confess to me, his children, the court, and the entire kingdom what he had done and officially make Farrendel a part of the royal family. The court even demanded Farrendel be officially and magically tested to verify for certain that he was Lorsan’s son. The dishonor was something Lorsan struggled with for the rest of his reign and life, though he did his best to shield Farrendel. And that is perhaps the cruel irony of it all. Even though he is the innocent one in the scandal, Farrendel will forever be the most marked by it.”
If Tarenhiel was anything like Escarland, then Farrendel wasn’t in line to inherit the throne because he was illegitimate, even though he had been acknowledged and raised as part of the family.
Would Averett have agreed to let her marry Farrendel if her brother had known the truth of Farrendel’s standing in the elven court? Most likely not. He probably would’ve seen it as an insult that the elves would marry off their illegitimate prince to Escarland’s princess.
Well, Averett was never going to find out. Essie had been truthful when she’d said she wouldn’t tell him, and now she was even more determined. There was no reason Averett had to know.
Besides, even if he was illegitimate, Farrendel was still a part of the elven royal family. A dearly loved younger brother. And he had earned respect as Laesornysh.
Essie stilled, letting that thought seep into her. Was that why Farrendel had become Laesornysh? Because he felt he had to earn the place that should’ve been automatically his as an elf prince? Did he feel he had to prove himself worthy of the love his family had given him?
That ached in her chest. Because a family’s love wasn’t earned. It was given no matter how worthy or unworthy the family member was.
What would this mean for her marriage to Farrendel and their future together? If he saw himself unworthy, did that mean he saw himself unworthy of being loved by a fellow elf? Had he chosen to marry her, a human, as sort of a penance? Marrying a less worthy bride to match his own unworthiness?
She didn’t want him to see her as less worthy. Less than an elf bride he might have married. Nor did she want him to see himself as unworthy of love—any love, even that of a human—because she would never be able to build a relationship with him like that. Even a friendship would be difficult.
Leyleira was still looking at Essie, waiting for an answer.
This answer had to be right.
Essie let out a long, slow breath and met Leyleira’s gaze. “I won’t hold any of this against Farrendel.”
Another hint of a smile crossed Leyleira’s face. “And that is why I believe it is a good thing Farrendel married you, a human. Humans can be fierce, and some elves need a human’s fierceness. Farrendel, I believe, is one of those elves. You and he will find your way to a love like Daesyn and Inara’s.”
Were her cheeks heating up? Essie ducked her head and focused on her plate. It wasn’t only her cheeks that warmed. Her chest had a warmth too, the part of herself that was already falling for Farrendel.
She’d thought she’d be content with mere tolerance. Maybe even a mild friendship.
But she wasn’t going to be content with that. She wanted to love Farrendel and wanted—desperately wanted—him to love her in return.
Was it possible?
AFTER THEY HAD gotten the serious topic out of the way, Essie spent a delightful afternoon with Leyleira, listening to stories about Farrendel’s childhood.
Two hours before dinner, Leyleira insisted that it was time Essie joined the family for the evening meal. Essie couldn’t help but agree. It was time she faced Farrendel’s family, and it should be less intimidating with King Weylind gone.
Still, Leyleira informed her that it was etiquette to dress for dinner. Thankfully, she sent along her maid to show Essie to her room and back so she didn’t become lost.
Essie dressed in the one elven dress she had that wasn’t her wedding dress. It was a light green and silky smooth against her, though it was a touch too long. Not exactly a comfortable situation when Essie had to walk across branches without tripping and falling to her deat
h.
Once she was dressed, she followed the servant across the branches back to the main part of the palace. Essie forced herself to keep her eyes up as she crossed the four foot wide branch.
The branches grew wider and wider until they reached the gilt dining room Essie had explored earlier that day. At the door, Essie paused and drew in a deep breath. She would hold her head high and wouldn’t let them shame her for being human. She was married to the elf prince, and that made her a princess of both Escarland and Tarenhiel.
She pushed open the door and glided inside.
Leyleira and Jalissa were already there, standing along the wall on the far side and holding glasses with a dark red liquid. They glanced toward her but didn’t halt their conversation. Leyleira’s mouth remained in her hint of a smile, but Jalissa’s smile wavered.
Essie strode farther in the room. Should she join their conversation? Or try to figure out what seat would be hers for dinner?
Behind her, the door to the dining room opened again. When Essie turned, she spotted Melantha and following her was Queen Rheva with Prince Ryfon and Princess Brina.
The whole family was here. Essie swallowed and forced her chin to remain high as the weight of Melantha’s icy glare fell on her. If Jalissa was wary, Melantha was hostile.
And, having learned what she had about Farrendel that day, Essie didn’t blame her. Melantha had been an adult when Farrendel was born. She would’ve been more a mother than a sister to him, especially those early years.
As if their arrival was a signal, everyone headed for the elegantly spindly chairs around the ornate table. Essie waited a moment to see where everyone else was headed.
The chair at the head of the table was left empty. It was probably King Weylind’s when he was here. Queen Rheva claimed the chair to the right while her son and daughter sat in the seats next to her. Leyleira sat to the left of the head of the table with Melantha, then Jalissa in the seats next to her.
That meant Farrendel’s seat would be either next to Jalissa or next to Princess Brina. Would Essie, as Farrendel’s wife, be expected to sit next to him or across from him? Was she supposed to leave his place empty or could she sit next to either Jalissa or Princess Brina so she didn’t have to sit awkwardly alone one space removed from everyone else?
If she hesitated too much longer, her hesitation would go from noticeable to awkwardly noticeable.
With her chin held high, she headed for the left side of the table and claimed the chair next to Jalissa. At least Jalissa somewhat tolerated her and would make the meal less unpleasant than it could be. Hopefully.
Melantha glared while Jalissa sent Essie a sideways glance. Essie couldn’t be sure if the glares were for picking the wrong seat or picking the right seat. Somehow, she didn’t think this family would like her much no matter which chair she had chosen.
But she needed to show them she was strong enough to face them on her own without Farrendel at her side guiding her. She couldn’t let herself be intimidated nor could she let them think she would run off to hide behind Farrendel every time they sent her an icy glare. They would walk all over her if she did that. She was a princess of the elves just as much as Jalissa, Melantha, or Brina, and she would carry herself as one.
Servants glided in carrying trays of food, their footsteps not even a whisper of sound on the wooden floor.
Melantha faced Queen Rheva and began a conversation in elvish, and the others soon followed, filling the room with a hushed murmur of voices speaking the lilting tones of the elvish tongue.
Essie pasted on a smile. She really needed to learn elvish. It wasn’t fair to make everyone in this room speak her language just for her, and Essie truly didn’t want to be that kind of a bother to everyone forever.
But she could sense the underlying tension in the room. They were speaking in elvish to purposefully exclude her. Even Jalissa had her shoulder tilted away from Essie, as if to make sure Essie didn’t seek to draw her into a conversation.
Instead, Essie kept her smile plastered to her face and dug into the meal. The first course was some sort of thick, vegetable soup that needed a touch more salt. That was followed by plate of cooked vegetables and venison. All delicious, though a hint bland. Did the elves not use spices the way her people did?
After barely eating that afternoon while talking with Leyleira, Essie didn’t mind staying silent to polish off the food. While she ate, she tried to pick out the elvish words she could understand. There weren’t many, though she caught Farrendel’s name a couple of times and a couple of mentions of bride or wife with a glance in Essie’s direction.
As the servants cleared away the main course and began setting out dishes with a chilled dessert, Leyleira glanced at Essie. “I had a lovely chat with Elspetha this afternoon.”
The switch to Escarlish was so abrupt it cut through the rest of the conversations like a knife, slicing the room into silence in heartbeats, especially since Leyleira had added the a to the end of Essie’s name to make it more elven. It made her sound more like one of them. Not the stranger, but Farrendel’s wife.
Essie took in the narrowing eyes and pursed mouths around the table, as if no one there was happy their grandmother had been alone with the disgusting human all afternoon. It was as if she was a stray dog with fleas that they didn’t want infecting their furniture.
Essie forced her smile to become a tad more brilliant. She would show them she was a nice puppy, if that’s what it took.
“It was enlightening and delightful.” Essie dipped her spoon into the dessert set in front of her, trying to think of something—anything—to add to the conversation now that Leyleira had so deliberately brought her into it. Honestly, she wanted to say something cutting, but such pettiness was beneath her and would probably come off as childish in this room where the teenagers were ninety years old. Instead, she went for something sincere. “It helped distract me from missing Farrendel.”
It scared her how true those words were. How could she miss him when she’d only known him a couple of days?
Maybe it was the companionship he gave her that she missed more than him specifically. Those days she’d spent with him, she hadn’t felt as alone here in Estyra as she had today. Today, even while spending time with Leyleira, Essie’s aloneness here in the elven capital ached inside her. Except for the political ramifications it would cause with her brother, no one sitting around that table would care if Essie tripped and died on her way back to her room after dinner. Jalissa or Leyleira might care if it hurt Farrendel, but they wouldn’t care on Essie’s behalf.
But that was it. No one here would give her a hug as warm and loving as her mother’s. No one here would look her in the eyes to ask if she was truly all right the way Paige would. No one would rush out and take on anyone who had hurt her the way Averett, Julien, or Edmund would.
Would Farrendel? Essie didn’t know, and it was all she could do to keep her smile from wobbling.
At that moment, all she wanted was her family. Their hugs. Their love. Their familiarity. It ached so deeply inside her she set down her spoon and pushed away from the table.
She couldn’t do this another moment. With a forced smile, she stood. “It has been a long day. I think I will retire.”
She didn’t wait for any replies. Didn’t care if they all knew she was on the verge of tears. She simply needed to get away and hide in the one small corner of this place that felt safe.
The next day, she let herself take the coward’s way out and hide in her rooms. If anyone asked, she would claim she was writing lengthy letters to her family. That was true, but she’d decided to write the letters after spending a chunk of the morning staring at the wall trying to figure out something to do to give herself some excuse for hiding and keep her mind off loneliness.
Writing the letters didn’t exactly help with the loneliness part. She wrote between dabbing at tears and aching for her family all the more.
It had sounded all so easy and brave when she’
d agreed to marry Farrendel and packed up her life on a moment’s notice to secure peace with the elves. But the reality was harder than she’d realized it would be.
As she finished a letter to Paige, a knock sounded on the door to the main room.
Essie jumped. She hadn’t even heard someone step onto the porch. But then again, the elves were so silent they didn’t go tromping around. She grimaced at the spot of ink that had dripped from the pen onto the tabletop. She blotted at it and thankfully it came out, mostly, without leaving much of a stain. She didn’t want to go about ruining Farrendel’s furniture while he was gone.
The knock came again, and Essie set aside her pen and stood. Hopefully it wasn’t a servant summoning her to dinner or afternoon tea or whatever. She wasn’t in the mood to be sociable today. She’d reached the end of pretending to be fine and happy and blithely unaware of the cutting remarks.
Essie yanked the door open. Yes, an elf servant was standing there. A male elf this time. Probably the equivalent of a footman. Essie nearly slammed the door back in his face, but a shred of politeness stayed her hand. It was no fault of this servant that she was in a foul mood today.
“Amirah,” The footman said something in elvish and gestured.
Essie caught sight of the elf standing behind him. “Illyna! Please! Come in!”
Her voice must have sounded downright desperate for the footman elf hurriedly stepped aside, his eyes wide, and Illyna glided past him, carrying a canvas bag slung over one shoulder.
As soon as Illyna was inside, Essie slammed the door, not caring if it was impolite to the footman. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”
Illyna gripped the canvas bag tighter with her left hand and eyed Essie. “You want to hug me again.”
“Um, yes. Kind of. But I’ll resist.” Essie clasped her hands behind her back to fight the urge. “Sorry to sound so desperate. It...” Essie caught herself before rambling on. She’d enjoyed her time at Illyna’s shop a few days ago, but was Illyna a friend? Could she trust her? Or was she tolerating Essie merely for Farrendel’s sake?