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That was to be expected. The bulk of the Escarlish army saw a demonstration of his magic when he destroyed the fortress of Gror Grar. They likely had not realized how much he had lost control and how much danger they had been in.
“That would be acceptable. As long as they give Essie and me space while we are training, I would be willing to give a demonstration with my magic.” Farrendel shrugged. While it would give the Escarlish generals an idea of the strength of his magic, it would also give Farrendel the opportunity to learn about Escarland’s weapons and figure out how much of it he could take out.
Not that he would end up fighting Escarland, thankfully. But, other human kingdoms would soon have modern weapons similar to the ones Escarland currently had. And Tarenhiel did not have treaties with those kingdoms.
Averett’s forehead remained furrowed, and his gaze searched Farrendel’s face. “Will practicing with your magic hurt Essie?”
Farrendel shook his head, the movement feeling strangely light without his long hair trailing down his back. “No. She is bonded to my magic now. It cannot hurt her.”
And, she would be less likely to hurt someone else with it, if she was trained. That was a guilt he would do his best to make sure she never carried. While she had fought at his side—and had killed when necessary—she was not a warrior.
Farrendel glanced to where she sat across the room. She was grinning broadly, laughing at something Paige had said. Her green eyes were twinkling, her freckles less pronounced in the lamplight, though her hair was a deep red in the warm glow.
How he loved her. It was almost painful in his chest, yet it filled him so completely. He never would have guessed, when he had been desperate enough to agree to an arranged marriage with a human, how absolutely perfect his life would turn out to be thanks to her.
MELANTHA GRIPPED Rharreth’sarm as they strolled the length of one of the streets of Osmana. This road wound up one of the sides of the valley, the houses on either side built directly into the mountainside.
They had been visiting Osmana twice a week for the past two weeks, making the time to talk directly with their people. In the spring, possibly late winter so that the dog sleds could still travel easily, Rharreth was talking about traveling the kingdom to introduce them to her, and she found herself more and more excited about exploring Kostaria at Rharreth’s side.
Troll men, women, and children lined the road. Most pushed forward, barely held back by the shield brothers and sister that guarded Rharreth and Melantha.
But others peered from windows or through the crack between door and frame, their gray faces blending in with the stone of the mountains around them. At least most of the faces were less gaunt than they had been when Melantha had first arrived. More hope shone in their eyes. More smiles were visible, though most of the trolls stared at her blankly as if they did not dare show any emotion.
And yet, when Melantha looked at them, she felt something deep within her chest. A heat so intense, so painful, it almost felt like the simmer of anger that had haunted her for so long. Yet, this heat did not consume and destroy. It gave life and warmth and drove her to pour herself out for these people.
Love. A burning compassion she had not felt back in Tarenhiel, perhaps because she had spent so much time secretly resenting everybody and everything that she had never tried to give of herself the way she was doing here in Kostaria.
Or, perhaps, because she had not truly known how to love like she was learning now. Love was not something that strove to earn another’s affection or give only for what one could get back.
Love was self-sacrificing without expectation of any reward. It was healing when all she could expect was glares and suspicion in return. It was feeling compassion for these people, even as some still shouted and spat at her as they passed, though the spitting and shouted expletives were growing fewer among the common people in Osmana. In this particular side street, at least, the crowd remained either silent or pressed forward as if eager.
Rharreth stopped to talk to several citizens, and Melantha paused as well as one troll woman pushed her way to the front of the crowd, gripping a boy’s hand in hers. It took a moment for Melantha to recognize her, with her wide smile and the way the boy was bouncing as if he wanted to run and play.
The troll woman bobbed a bow. “I wished to thank you, Your Majesty, once again for what you did.”
“I am glad he is healing well.” Melantha studied his stance, seeing with satisfaction that he was not favoring either arm. He would grow strong and sure, and that would save him from being an outcast in this kingdom that so valued strength and warlike ability.
