Page 43 of Troll Queen


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Miss Merrick didn’t seem too shocked. “If you would like, I would be happy to get up, make the hot chocolate, and deliver it to your room.”

“Don’t feel like you have to on our account.” Essie didn’t want Miss Merrick to feel like she had to force herself out of bed at all hours of the night, even if the thought of not having to blearily stumble down the stairs in the middle of the night sounded amazing.

“It would be my pleasure and my job.”

“In that case, if you wake up, I would appreciate you making hot chocolate for us. If you don’t wake up, then I won’t go out of my way to wake you. How does that sound?” Essie held out her empty plate.

“It sounds like I will enjoy working for you, Princess Elspeth.”

Good. Essie had learned from a young age that being a fair and kind employer usually led to more loyal and hardworking employees. Something rather important for royalty when their lives would be in danger if their employees were less than loyal.

The door opened, and Farrendel strode inside. His shortened hair stuck to his forehead while his shirt was stained with what looked to be a mixture of sweat and dirt. He limped slightly, as if his muscles were sore.

But he had a hint of a smile on his face. Maybe Julien had been right about exercise being exactly what Farrendel needed. At least here in Escarland, he could regain his strength safely on the ground under Julien’s watchful eye rather than trying to resume his routine high in the treetops of Tarenhiel.

Essie stood and wrapped her arms around Farrendel’s waist, so very thankful when he didn’t pull away. “You are gross and sweaty.”

“Then why are you hugging me?” Farrendel held his hands out, as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them.

Behind him, Essie spotted Miss Merrick slipping out of the kitchen. Yes, Essie was definitely keeping her on the staff.

“Because you actually look happy, and I’m happy that you’re happy.” Essie stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Now, do you want your second, after-exercise breakfast or a shower first?”

Farrendel’s forehead wrinkled, then he glanced over her shoulder. “The bacon is hot right now.”

Hard to argue with that logic.

Farrendel gripped Essie’shand and tried to keep his knees from bouncing. Every muscle in his body wound tight, and not just because of the stiff ache from the exercise this morning. It was taking every shredded scrap of his willpower to remain sitting on the settee beside Essie and not bolt from the room.

Buckmore Cottage’s parlor was off the main entrance, the walls a pink floral pattern while the room was crammed with plush couches and chairs and cloth-covered tables. It was a claustrophobic room even without his nerves straining to the snapping point. If he was ever attacked in this room, fighting back would be interesting, though he would have a number of items from which to launch himself.

Across the room, Taranath lounged in one of the chairs, reading through a stack of papers that represented Mr. and Mrs. Harwell’s research. It must have been fascinating and on the right branch since Taranath was engrossed in his reading rather than shaking his head at inaccuracies.

That was a good thing. It had been hard enough letting Taranath magically mess with his brain, even if Farrendel now felt better than he had before.

But these Escarlish doctors were strangers. Averett and Julien and Essie seemed like they trusted them, but Farrendel was not so sure.

The outer door opened, then Captain Merrick walked into the parlor, followed by an older human couple. Farrendel was not sure how old they were, but the man’s hair was completely gray while the woman’s hair was almost entirely gray as well, with only a few threads of brown still showing.

Both of them were slightly plump and shorter than Farrendel with lines around their mouths and eyes.

They looked older and nicer and more...parental than Farrendel had expected.

After introductions and after Miss Merrick set a tea tray on the low table, Essie waved at the settee across from them. “Please, have a seat.”

Mr. Harwell stepped aside and waited until his wife took a seat first, then he took a seat beside her. Mrs. Harwell smiled and glanced from Essie to Farrendel.

Farrendel could not hold her gaze and instead glanced down at his and Essie’s clasped hands. An awkward pause stretched into an even more awkward silence. One Farrendel had no intention of breaking. Especially since he could depend on Essie to do it for him.

“Do you want some tea? Or do you want to start...” Essie trailed off, as if she was not sure how to describe the reason they were there.

Mrs. Harwell’s voice held a smile, even though Farrendel was staring down at his hands. “We’ll start by explaining how we ended up doing this. About twenty years ago, our son was in the war against Tarenhiel. When he returned, he was different. He struggled with what he had seen and done. We tried everything that was recommended at the time, including sending him to an asylum.” Mrs. Harwell’s voice held a quaver, but it did not break.

“It was...not good. We feared for him.” Mr. Harwell’s voice was matter-of-fact, even if it held a depth of emotion.

“I’m sorry.” Essie’s grip on Farrendel’s hand did not loosen. “Do you blame the elves for your son’s troubles? Or the Escarlish royal family? I’m sure my brother King Averett already asked these questions, but before we trust you, we need to hear your answers ourselves.”

Farrendel managed to raise his head and study Mr. and Mrs. Harwell. Neither of them was glaring at him. But if they had lingering anger toward his people, they must have been good enough at hiding it to fool Averett.

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