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As she paused for a breath, a loud gurgling sound came from the direction of her stomach. She shifted, an arm wrapping over her middle.
Farrendel glanced to the window, then shoved to his feet. He had been so wrapped up in listening to her that he had not noticed the time. She must think him neglectful, letting her talk through lunchtime.
She started to push to her feet, but Farrendel quickly gestured for her to stay where she was. When she hesitated, he shook his head. “Stay.”
He would rather she kept talking than have her help preparing food for lunch.
As he opened the cold cupboard, she relaxed back onto the cushion and resumed the story she had been telling about her brothers Prince Julien and Prince Edmund stealing King Averett’s crown. It was a rather humorous story and shed a different light on her brothers than the glowering, angry men he had met at the wedding.
The options stocked in the cold cupboard were simple. Bread. Some cooked venison that could be eaten cold. Leftoverfrishk, a vegetable and venison mash that also could be eaten cold. A few different kinds of cheese. What kind of food would Essie prefer? What did humans normally eat?
If she was already hungry, then it was far too late to send down to the kitchens for anything fancier. Besides, that would mean talking to a servant, then talking to another servant when the food was delivered.
He cut a slice of the bread, then spooned some of thefrishkonto a plate. Instead of making Essie wait longer, he crossed the room and handed her the plate before he returned to prepare his own lunch.
When he sat on his cushion again with his lunch, he frowned. Essie’s plate remained untouched in her hands. Had he done something wrong? “Is it not to your liking?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t tried it yet. I was waiting for you.”
“Why?” Why would she wait? She had been hungry.
“It’s considered polite to wait until everyone has their food before you start eating. Is that not how it works here?” Essie filled her fork withfrishk, then shoved it into her mouth, as if to prove to him that she saw nothing wrong with the food.
“No, we wait for formal meals.” He peeked a glance at her before he focused on his own food. “You were hungry. You did not have to wait.”
Though, he could not help but feel a little pleased that she had. There was something about eating a meal together. As if they were friends. Or family. Or a true, married couple.
She swallowed and shrugged. “I know.”
As they ate, he had to keep his gaze focused on his own plate. Essie shoveled herfrishkon top of her bread, and the sight sent a crawling feeling along his skin. Food was not supposed to be mixed like that. It was bad enough when food touched on purpose, like in thefrishk. But mixing food together that was not supposed to be mixed just seemed wrong.
But he was not about to tell her that.
When she set aside her plate, her smile vanished while her posture stiffened.
Not a good sign. What was she going to ask now? Whatever it was, it was not going to be something he would enjoy answering.
Her gaze searched his face. “Why did you agree to this marriage alliance? You didn’t have any warning it was coming. I, at least, knew earlier that ending up married to an elf was a possibility, but a marriage alliance to a human wasn’t in your plans, I don’t think. So why agree to it? More than that, why talk your brother into it?”
Farrendel could not hold her gaze any longer. He could not let her see how desperately he, personally, needed the peace treaty. “My people need peace with your people.”
“Yes, I know.” She shifted, as if she was trying to figure out how to word her question to get the answer she was looking for. “But why would you agree to a marriage alliance so quickly? You could have tried to talk your brother into marrying one of your sisters to one of my brothers instead. You didn’t have to marry me if you hadn’t wanted to.”
What kind of brother would he have been, if he had tried to foist a marriage of alliance onto one of his sisters instead of taking on the duty himself?
Besides, of all his siblings, he was the most expendable. He was the illegitimate one, after all. “Better me than my sisters.”
“I see.” Her shoulders slumped, her tone deflating.
He had given the wrong answer and disappointed her somehow. What had Essie expected from him?
She had askedwhy. That was the central question she kept pressing. She was looking for a particular answer, and he kept saying the wrong thing.
He had given her the political answers. Nothing that left him vulnerable.
But she was asking for his personal reasons for marrying her. She wanted something from his heart, not his head.
He forced himself to speak, meeting her gaze. “But not only that.”
