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With her hand still firmly gripped in Farrendel’s, Essie led the way down the stairs behind Averett and two of the guards. Farrendel, Jalissa, and Jalissa’s elven guard huddled close on Essie’s heels, staying as far from the stone walls as possible.
At the bottom of the stairs, a small train consisting of only one train car and two engines, one facing forward and the other backwards, waited on a thin set of rails. No steam puffed from the stacks, nor were there any coal cars attached to the engines.
Averett waved at it. “This is one of the few trains in Escarland powered by magical devices. The fumes of a traditional train would have been too much in this tunnel.”
Farrendel had his mouth pressed together in a tight line and remained stiff as a statue. Jalissa managed a tiny nod.
As soon as they boarded the train, Farrendel turned sideways on the bench, pulled his knees up, and rested his head on his arms, breathing tight and strained. Essie squeezed into the space between him and the wall and rubbed his back.
Jalissa and her guard claimed the bench in front of Essie and Farrendel while Edmund sat behind them. Edmund leaned forward and said in elvish, “If you’re going to throw up, you might want to do it out the window before we get to Parliament.”
“Not going to,” Farrendel bit out, though he didn’t raise his head.
Averett sank onto the bench across the aisle from them. “Is everything all right?”
Essie rubbed Farrendel’s back, feeling his slight trembling through her fingers. No, everything wasn’t all right. But she couldn’t explain to her brothers exactly what was going on. “Elves...don’t like to be underground.”
That was mostly true. She wanted to explain more why this might remind Farrendel of the torture he’d suffered at the hands of the trolls, but now wasn’t the time or place.
Averett studied both Farrendel and Jalissa but didn’t say anything as Julien and the guards claimed seats and the train started moving.
“I probably should warn you.” Averett sat forward in his seat to better peer at Essie past Farrendel’s hunched form. “Parliament wasn’t too happy with your marriage alliance with the elves. It seems some of the old timers think I ‘wasted’ Escarland’s one princess on the elves rather than bargain you away to some other, more important kingdom, to their eyes, anyway.”
That made Farrendel stiffen and raise his head.
Jalissa raised her eyebrows. “Tarenhiel is not important to Escarland? Then what, I ask, are we doing here?” Her tone had a bite to it.
“Trade is all important to Parliament. They don’t yet see the trade benefits of a stronger alliance with Tarenhiel, and they all too quickly forget how close we came to war before we signed this treaty.” Averett rested his elbows on his knees, his head still held high to keep his crown perfectly balanced. “I am willing to consider the benefits to not just a peace treaty, but a closer alliance. But if you wish to convince Parliament, then you must prove to them today that Tarenhiel is still standing strong and an alliance will be beneficial to both Tarenhiel and Escarland.”
“I see.” Jalissa sat straighter, her head held higher despite her pallor. “You wish for my kingdom to become like yours, consumed by trade and greed. Our way of life would become nothing but something to be bartered.”
“The world is changing. Better your kingdom figures out a way to adapt, thrive, and preserve your way of life rather than have it forcibly stolen from you.” Averett straightened, but his gaze never left Jalissa’s face. In that moment, he wasn’t the sometimes-uncertain older brother Essie saw often, but the king he’d had to learn how to be when the crown landed on his head at age twelve. “I believe Tarenhiel has much to offer and can be a worthy ally to Escarland. I would not have pushed for this alliance nor agreed to my sister’s marriage if I hadn’t believed that.”
Jalissa gave a nod.
Farrendel gestured between him and Essie. “Your Parliament thinks our marriage was a waste.”
Of course that was the part he was still stuck on. Essie squeezed his shoulder. “Were they still pushing for a marriage alliance with Mongalia?”
“Yes. As if I would ever marry my little sister off to a widower over twice her age, even if he happens to be the crown prince likely to become king any day. I’d rather you be happy than a queen.” Averett grimaced and eyed Farrendel, as if he still wasn’t sure that particular marriage alliance was any better.
“And they wonder why I jumped at the chance to form a marriage alliance that actually sounded appealing to me.” Essie leaned forward to kiss Farrendel, but since he was hunched over, all she could reach was his ear. She planted a kiss on the tip of his ear anyway. “It turned out even better than I hoped.”
Farrendel rubbed his ear against his shoulder, as if completely embarrassed she would toss out all sense of elven propriety by kissing him, even his ear, in front of her brothers. At least his embarrassment brought some color back to his pale face.
Julien made a gagging sound. Edmund jabbed a thumb at the window next to him. “If you’re going to turn all lovey-dovey, I’m throwing myself out of this train.”
The comment broke the last lingering tension from a moment ago. Even Farrendel’s mouth twitched in a hint of a smile. Perhaps some lighthearted banter would help distract him, though at this point they weren’t far from the stop at Ellory Hall.
Essie met Averett’s gaze over Farrendel’s shoulder and mouthed, “Keep talking.”
Averett held her gaze just long enough to be an acknowledgement. A smirk crossed his face, and he leaned back on his bench, resting an arm across its back. “What Parliament doesn’t realize is that while I would never bargain away my only sister against her will, I would be more than happy to marry off a few brothers. I have plenty of those to spare.”
Julien puffed out his chest, striking a pose. “We are rather handsome specimens. I’m sure you’ll be able to bargain us for quite the trade deal. I hear Mongalia’s crown prince has a daughter about the right age.”
“Oh, come now, Julien. If Avie’s going to go about this whole marriage alliance thing the right way, he would have to marry you off to Mongalia’s crown prince’s unmarried, forty-year-old sister. I hear uncomfortably large age gaps are the way it’s supposed to be done.” Edmund sprawled in his bench, his face too carefully straight and stoic.
“Leaving the younger princess for you, I suppose.” Julien wagged a finger at him. “Tricky as always.”
