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Her slumped shoulders vanished, her face brightening again.
He had to be honest, no matter how much it hurt. “Your smile. No one else was smiling. They were looking at each other as enemies. But you smiled, as if we were people you were happy to meet.”
At his words, she smiled. Bright. Brilliant.
He looked away, even as her smile gave him courage. “I thought that marriage to someone like that would not be miserable.”
She placed a hand on one of his. “I hope for much more than not miserable.”
“Yes.” He croaked out the word. How was he supposed to think when she kept touching him? First his cheek, then his knee, and now his hand. Why did she keep reaching out to him?
Was it possible she had been telling the truth that morning when she said she did not find his scars repulsive?
Ignore the soft feel of her hand against his knuckles. Ignore the way his heart was pounding in his ears. Pretend everything was just fine and normal. He faced her, hoping he appeared nonchalant. “Why did you agree to this arranged marriage?”
She dropped her gaze and her hand from his and instead tugged at the hem of her tunic. “Actually, I kind of suggested it. It started off as a joke, sort of. I was somewhat serious when I said it. Avie decided to use it as an opening gambit, but then you agreed, and I found I was glad you did. Marrying you and coming here has been the best opportunity for an adventure I’ve ever had.”
Adventure. He could pretty much guarantee she would find that.
She gestured around at the room. “And I’ve always been fascinated by your people and your culture. I read every book our library had on elves. I studied your language as best I could. I can read some elvish, but I can only understand a few spoken words. I’ll have to work on that.”
“I will help.” He found himself saying the words even before he had thought them through. Not that he did not mean them. He did. He just was not used to offering to give of himself so quickly, so easily.
“Thanks.” There was her smile again, the one that sent him reeling so much it was a struggle to concentrate as she asked, “What was your plan going into that diplomatic meeting?”
He should smile in return, should he not? That was the socially acceptable thing to do. He made a conscious effort to force his mouth to curve. Hopefully the expression did not look too forced.
What had she asked again? Something about diplomacy? He probably should not tell her. It would let her—and thus her brother—know just how desperate Farrendel and his people were.
But he also could not think of what else to tell her instead. Nor did he want to keep things from her if he could help it. She was so open with him, and it felt like, maybe, they really could make this work if they both had the courage to keep that openness.
He glanced at her, then away. “We planned to agree to almost anything your people suggested. We expected a ceasefire treaty and perhaps an exclusive trade deal. Maybe even exchanging hostages. Marriage was a surprise.”
She grinned and leaned forward, almost as if about to touch him again. “Well, let’s not tell my brother that. He will be disappointed that he could’ve gotten peace with a whole lot less than marrying me off. But I’m glad this is the end result.”
Farrendel’s smile came a little easier this time. If she was glad about this result, if she wanted to make this marriage into something real, then she was hoping for a peace that was more than the mere appeasement that Weylind and Farrendel had been expecting.
Farrendel had hoped to buy his kingdom time. What if he and Essie could do more than that? If he—with her help—could build a lasting peace with Escarland, that would be one less war he would have to fight in the future.
It was a dream he never would have dared contemplate before. It felt dangerous—forbidden, even—to dream. To think about having a future other than fighting and an early death on the battlefield.
But it also seemed like something of which Machasheni Leyleira would approve.
And, perhaps, that was why he even managed to say goodnight to Essie before he fled to his room that night.
ChapterTen
He had not accidentally killed her when she startled him that morning. That was something. Probably not a good something, all things considered, but Essie had not seemed to be aware of how close he had come to losing control of his magic.
Farrendel strolled next to her through the forest around Ellonahshinel on their way to Estyra.
Essie swayed closer, their shoulders so close they were almost brushing. She peeked up at him. “How is this going to go once we reach Estyra? Are we going to pretend to be a blissfully happy couple? Or walk around like we’re still awkward with each other?”
“Elves do not lie.” Farrendel could have happily stuffed those words back into his mouth. He had not meant to sound so short. But the panic made him spit out the first thing that came to him.
“It’s not a lie. At least, I don’t think it is.” Essie’s gaze swung away from him, the light in her face fading to something more serious. “But there’s the truth that you show to other people and the deeper truth that only you know.”
He had to concentrate just to keep walking. The deeper truth. Such as the fact that he was shattered inside. The nightmares he was not sure how to explain to her. The shame of his illegitimate birth that he would have to tell Essie eventually and watch the light in her eyes turn into disgust when she looked at him.
