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But maybe Farrendel had been right. Perhaps Melantha might not find love, but here in Kostaria, she might find freedom. Just then, that seemed even better.
FARRENDEL’S EYES weregritty after staring into the forest half the night. It was the closest thing he had found to rest, even after the mug of hot chocolate Essie had brought him in the middle of the night.
He should get up. If he did not, Essie or whoever Weylind sent would come here to drag him from his room.
He could either convince himself to get up, or he might end up hauled across Ellonahshinel to Rheva’s father hanging over his brother’s shoulder like a sack of grain.
Picturing that embarrassment provided enough energy to push onto his elbows, then to his hands and knees. His muscles and joints ached. Lying on the wooden porch was not the best way to rest or recover from those weeks of torture.
Farrendel used the wall to get all the way to his feet. So tired. Still so sore. He could barely totter around. A far cry from the flips he used to do each morning.
He could hear voices down in the main room. As he had guessed, Weylind had sent someone. Perhaps Weylind himself had come to hover.
It took far too long to navigate down the stairs. Perhaps Essie was on to something when she kept talking about adding handrails.
He stepped into the main room, past where the ruined door leaned against the wall. There, he found Essie grinning and dishing cold meat and cheese on a plate. Across from her, Machasheni Leyleira held another plate and nibbled on a piece of cheese.
Farrendel leaned against the doorjamb. Weylind was playing dirty.
“Sasonsheni.” Machasheni set aside her plate, crossed the room, and gripped Farrendel’s shoulders. “You are not looking well. Come. You must sit and eat, and then we will leave. Elspetha, do you have that plate?”
Somehow, Farrendel found himself steered to the table and nudged into a chair and a plate set in front of him. Machasheni Leyleira reclaimed her own plate, perched in the chair across from Farrendel, and nibbled daintily at her food. Over her food, she gave Farrendel a stern look.
He dug into his food. With Machasheni giving him that look, he did not dare do anything but attempt to finish everything on his plate.
Essie grabbed one of the cushions from the other side of the room, plopped it on the floor next to Farrendel’s chair, and sat on it with her own plate of breakfast. Farrendel would have offered her a chair, but Machasheni had placed him in this one, and he did not dare move. Not to mention, Essie was grinning and seemed perfectly happy sitting on the cushion on the floor.
He was down to only a few pieces of cheese. His stomach felt tight and full for the first time in weeks.
With a smirk, Essie slipped another piece of meat on his plate.
He pointed at it. “I am not eating that.”
“It’s on your plate.” Essie picked up one of two pieces of cheese on her plate, eyeing him as if waiting for him to look away so she could slip it onto his plate as well.
“Do not do it.” Farrendel tried to glare at her, but it was hard to keep even the fake expression in place while she was smirking at him like that.
