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Only Machasheni Leyleira would talk so of the king. It was enough to ease the tension in Farrendel’s shoulders. “What is your advice?”
“Choose her. Do not hold back.” His grandmother patted his cheek again. “For years, you used to pick me and your sisters bouquets of flowers every day when we were at Lethorel. If you show this human princess that sweet boy I know is still in there somewhere, she will not be able to help loving you.”
Farrendel grimaced. It had been a long, long time since he had been a child picking wildflowers for his grandmother. He was not sure he could remember how to be that innocently trusting.
“It will be difficult, especially as you are yet strangers.” Her mouth tipped in a smile. “But I remember the days when stories were told of the great love that can exist between humans and elves.”
“You speak of Daesyn and Inara.” Farrendel could only blink at her. He had spent two days hearing nothing but lectures to not grow attached. That he could not hope for love or kindness or anything from this marriage but cold indifference at best.
More than that, she spoke not just of mere love. Daesyn was a human and Inara was an elf princess. Together, they formed an elishina, a heart bond, that was so strong, it lengthened Daesyn’s life.
Surely his grandmother was not suggesting Farrendel and Princess Elspeth could form such a bond? They were strangers forced to marry to prevent a war between their peoples. Even in his best hopes, he did not dare believe an elishina was possible. He would be satisfied if they could even tolerate each other. “You have not even met her.”
“No, but I peeked in to see if Jalissa needed aid. Jalissa and her maids have the preparations well in hand, so I left the matter in their capable hands.” His grandmother bustled past him, headed toward the kitchen area of the room.
“You spied on them.” He would have been more appalled, but this was his grandmother. It was not too unexpected coming from her.
She waved her hand, even as she set a satchel on the countertop, her back still to him. “I merely observed for the purpose of preparing the eshinelt. I do not believe she saw me.”
As if that made spying so much better. But it did make him curious what his grandmother thought of Princess Elspeth. “And what was your impression of her, given your observations?”
Machasheni turned to face him, her eyebrow raised as if she knew he was doing the same type of questioning she usually wielded so skillfully. “She is currently attempting to make cheerful conversation with Jalissa and any of the maids who will stand still long enough to listen. Her mien is not that of someone forced or dreading this marriage. If anything, she is exuberant.”
Exuberant was a good word for Princess Elspeth. Still, it was reassuring to hear she seemed to be coping all right with the situation. He would certainly not be so relaxed all alone in a foreign place.
“Her demeanor is surprising. She is the one giving up her home and people to come here with you, all with very little guarantee that she will not come to harm. That takes a great deal of courage.” His grandmother gave him another smile, one of her cryptic smiles that said she knew something—or thought she knew something—that Farrendel did not. “Now. Come. I brought the ingredients for the eshinelt.”
The eshinelt was the green paint used to draw ancient runes on each other during an elven wedding ceremony. But it was more than mere paint bought at one of the shops. It had to be prepared by the groom, the recipe usually passed down from parents to son.
“I know your father cannot be here. Weylind wished to do this, but I could tell he is against this marriage, for all that he is allowing it.” Machasheni Leyleira began taking glass jars from the satchel on the countertop. “It would not do to have him help prepare the eshinelt.”
As much as Farrendel wished Dacha could be here, he was glad Machasheni and not Weylind was in his place. It was good to have someone think he was making the right choice in this case. Perhaps she would weave some of her hope into the eshinelt, for hope was something he hardly dared to have recently.
He located a bowl, and Machasheni talked him through making the eshinelt. It involved crushing and mixing a variety of herbs, including mint, reminding Farrendel of the shampoo and conditioner he used. He had to choose from a selection of flowers and herbs Machasheni had brought for a scent that reminded him of Princess Elspeth. It was an intimate gesture, something that probably would not have been so awkward if he had known her longer than a day.
As he stirred it for what he assumed would be the last time, Machasheni gave a sharp nod. “Good. Now add in just a hint of your magic.”
He dropped the spoon. “My magic?”
“Of course. That is the final ingredient.”
“But my magic…” His magic would destroy the eshinelt. “Can you use your magic?”
His grandmother gave that snort again. “I am not the one getting married today. It must be you. Normally, this bowl would be carried to your bride as she prepares for the wedding, and she would add her own magic as well, but in your case, it will be your magic alone. Thankfully, yours is plenty strong for the both of you.”
It was strong. That was the problem. It tended to incinerate anything it touched.
She huffed. “You used to do gentle sparks for Ryfon and Brina. I know you can control your magic enough for this.”
It had been a long time since he had used his magic in such small quantities. Not since his father had died and he had become Laesornysh. Could he remember how to wield such small amounts when his magic pressed to be unleashed?
He would have to try. If he incinerated this eshinelt, hopefully Machasheni Leyleira had brought enough of the ingredients that they could make a second batch.
Farrendel called on his magic, letting it filter into bolts of blue lightning twining around his fingers.
Too much. Still too much. He reined it in, concentrating on letting just the hint of his magic dance on his fingers.
When it was nothing but sparks, he rubbed his fingers together over the bowl, as if adding in a pinch of herbs to a soup. The sparks fell into the eshinelt, and he quickly stirred it in. In his haste, he accidentally dropped more magic into it, and he quickly cut off his power. The eshinelt bubbled for a moment before falling still.
