AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Perhaps it was the relief, but he found the tension in his muscles easing. “Still young. Elves consider it best to wait to marry until full maturity at one hundred fifty to two hundred.”
“I guess when you have the luxury of nearly a thousand years of life, waiting doesn’t hurt.” When she spoke, Essie gestured with her hands, every word and movement confident and easy, as if she was not worried in the least what he might think of her or what she said. “We humans tend to marry young. Not everyone does. Avie didn’t get married until he was twenty-three, and both Julien and Edmund will probably be at least that if not older before either of them even thinks about marriage. When you only live eighty to ninety years or so, every year counts.”
Her smile faded, and she glanced away from him for the first time.
He was not good with people, but Essie’s open emotions were easier to read than most. Nor did it take an expert to see that she was missing her family.
What could he do? What could he offer her?
He was the one who had taken her away from that family. Did she blame him?
Before he could come up with anything to say, she smiled again and faced him, leaning forward. “Do you have a question you would like to ask? I’ve asked two.”
With her inviting tone and expression, some of the churning in his stomach faded. This talking with her was not so bad, after all.
And there was one question he had wanted to ask. “Why do your people shorten your names?”
“Like a nickname?” Essie’s eyebrows lifted.
So that was what they were called.
She shrugged. “Usually because it is shorter and quicker to say than a person’s full name. But nicknames are also endearments. Usually only close family and friends will use a nickname.”
Now he understood. It was not a mere shortening of her name. But a nickname was a special name for family and friends to use. And when Essie gave him the use of her nickname, she was telling him that he now had a family relationship with her.
She had also given Weylind and Farrendel’s siblings the use of her nickname. She had been adopting all of his family as her family, and he had not even realized it.
The others would never use that nickname. They would not understand, as he had not. Nor did he really want to explain, not if it meant that the name Essie could be something special that he, and he alone here in Tarenhiel, would call her.
“Don’t you use nicknames?”
Oh, she had asked another question. He quickly shook his head. “No. Our names have meaning. To shorten them would take away the meaning.”
She nodded, her forehead furrowing. “What does Farrendel mean?”
He should have expected this question. Bracing himself, he touched a strand of his silver-blond hair. “Fair One.”
Well, it was more likeThe One with the Fair HairbutFair Onewas close enough.
With a twist to her mouth, she tugged her braid over her shoulder. “I would’ve been named after my hair color too. It’s rather bright.”
Was that a scowl? And a note of deprecation in her voice? Why would she sound like that when talking about her hair? “It is pretty.”
He snapped his mouth shut, the tips of his ears burning. This was why he did not talk. He just ended up embarrassing himself whenever he did.
Instead of shifting in embarrassment, a brilliant smile flashed onto her face, lighting her eyes into a brighter green. “I’m glad you think so. Back in Escarland, a lot of people dismiss it as a vulgar color. And they expect me to get angry easily because, of course, I must have a terrible temper.”
“Why would they think you have a temper?” He had to be missing something. What did red hair have to do with a temper?
“For some reason, people associate red hair with getting angry easily. As if red hair has anything to do with it.” For the first time, there was a note of heat in her voice, before it disappeared in another smile. “Ask me another question.”
Perhaps it was the reference to her culture, but his next question came out without too much thought. “What is it like in your kingdom?”
It turned out to be the right question. When Essie started talking about Escarland, she just kept on going, describing the city of Aldon and Winstead Palace before moving on to talk about her family and friends.
Her whole face lit up, her voice warm and filled with laughter and memories. Farrendel could not help but stare at her, watching the fascinating play of easy smiles and laughter in her expression.
Joy. A deep, inner joy. That was what he was seeing in her. It was fascinating. And beautiful. And bewildering. He could listen to her all day.
