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Servants set bowls in front of them. Melantha picked up her spoon and stirred it experimentally. The broth was watery, only a few vegetables and a little meat floating in it. A plate with hardtack was placed between her and Rharreth, as if they were expected to share the single plate.
She had expected something more. Not the same watery broth he had been serving her in the dungeon.
Prince Rharreth shot her a look, as if warning her not to comment.
A part of her still wanted to. But she was an elven princess. Of anyone, she knew how to suppress what she was thinking and put on a regal, serene mask.
Yet, she did not try to paste on a smile. Smiling was not her natural expression.
Melantha choked down the watery broth yet again. After the feasting, if it could be called that, some of the tables were pushed aside and trolls danced in the space. Their dances were nothing like the graceful, sweeping elven dances. The trolls stomped their feet in a rhythm as they marched around each other, and Melantha was not sure if the couples were supposed to find this romantic or if they were plotting to kill each other.
She just wanted to leave. She wanted to go home to Tarenhiel and return to the life she had before.
Instead, she was stuck here. Stuck with a near stranger as her husband. Worse, what little she did know about him was that he had fought her people for years. He had stood by while his brother Charvod tortured her brother Farrendel.
Melantha sneaked a glance at Prince Rharreth next to her. He was leaning closer to Zavni and the two of them were laughing over some inside joke between shield brothers.
The troll prince had been kind to her so far. He had fought to keep his brother from whipping her. But he had not fought to stop his brother from torturing Farrendel. Prince Rharreth claimed to have honor, yet his honor apparently only extended to certain people.
She was an elf. One of the enemy. What if he was forced to choose between her and his people? Would he stand by and let her come to harm?
She was not sure what he would do. Considering their marriage was less than a day old and arranged for political reasons, he would probably choose his people over any minuscule duty to her.
Prince Rharreth stood and tugged on her hand. The others were pounding tankards on the table and dancing and only Zavni noticed them leaving, and his eyes were twinkling as he smirked.
Melantha swallowed, her breath catching in her chest. What would Prince Rharreth expect of her that night? They were strangers. Surely he would not...
But he was a troll. Trolls were known to be barbaric.
Prince Rharreth led her from the dining hall, then up the stairs into a tunnel deeper into the mountain. The walls of the tunnel were decorated with carvings and woven tapestries that showed scenes of battles and hunts. Gemstones were embedded in the wall behind the sconces, scattering colored light into the tunnel.
It was more beauty than Melantha had been expecting to find here in Kostaria.
Prince Rharreth halted outside of a door bracketed by two sconces flickering blue light across the passageway.
Melantha dug her heels in, tugging on the hand still tied to his. “Is there a room next door for me?”
If she made it clear that her assumption was that they would have separate bedrooms, perhaps he would go with it.
He glanced over his shoulder at her, his dark blue eyes even darker in the shadows of the tunnel. “You will be safer with me.”
Or so he said. She was not so sure. “I would prefer my own room.”
Prince Rharreth pushed the door open. “As you may have noticed, many in my kingdom are not happy with my choice of bride. There are some who are not above killing you in your sleep. They might even consider it justice, since your brother killed my father and brother. For that reason, you will sleep in my room where I can guard you.”
Melantha allowed herself to be pulled inside. Her stomach was still churning.
How had Farrendel done this? Gone through with a marriage to a stranger?
Then again, Farrendel was not as helpless as she was. Farrendel had his magic and his skills with his swords. He had been in no danger, at least not physically.
Perhaps she should be wondering how that human princess Elspeth had managed it. Melantha had always scorned her for being too happy and naïve.
But Elspeth was not so naïve that she had not known the kind of danger she had risked when marrying Farrendel. Now that Melantha was in the same situation, she better understood the kind of courage Elspeth had.
Taking a deep breath, Melantha let the door swing shut behind her and forced herself to look around the room instead of staring at the floor.
As this room was deep inside the mountain, it had no windows. But the entire ceiling was covered with diamonds and other precious gems, scattering the light from the wall sconces. A fireplace was set into one wall. It must have some kind of flue magically grown into the stone to pipe the smoke out of the mountain. Several upholstered chairs were arranged before the fire, looking like a cozy place to enjoy a book.
