AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I did that. Most of it.” Farrendel shifted, then pointed at a stick figure wielding what looked like a massive sword. “I wanted to be a warrior like my father and brother. Fighting sounded like more fun than learning to read.”
How naïve he had been, as a child. He had seen battles as places of adventure and glory, not the place of death and blood as he now knew. Later, as he had gotten older, he had switched to wanting to be a healer.
And then he had gotten his deadly magic, and he had become a warrior after all.
Essie’s expression turned solemn, and she rested her hand over his on the page. “These drawings are still cute. Even if you now see how innocent you were compared to what you know now.”
He drew in a deep breath and forced the melancholy away. He wanted to go back to the laughter and fun of moments ago.
Farrendel forced a twitch to his mouth as he shut the book and held it out to her. “Would you like to begin?”
Essie took the book and headed for the mounds of cushions on the far side of the room. “Sure. I need to learn to speak elvish as soon as possible. I can recognize a few spoken words, though I can understand more in writing. But it would be nice not to be so lost whenever everyone else is speaking.”
She might not like being able to understand the elvish spoken, especially if his fellow elves continued to make snide comments to her face even after she could understand them.
But she deserved to be able to understand what was being said around her.
Farrendel sat on one of the cushions facing her. He was not exactly qualified for teaching someone a new language, but who else were they going to ask?
No, they would just have to muddle through it as best they could. Besides, it was something to do with her, at least. And more than anything, he found that he enjoyed spending time with her.
* * *
This timewhen Farrendel clasped Essie’s fingers as he strolled the back streets of Estyra, it did not feel so odd or new. Instead, he had the strange urge to pull her even closer, despite the fact that they were in public. He had never felt anything like this before. Ever.
As they neared the café near Illyna’s shop, his stomach flipped with renewed nerves. He was not even sure why he was so nervous. He knew Fingol and Fydella would like Essie. Just about everyone—besides his family, it seemed—liked Essie. Essie would like Fingol and Fydella. She liked everyone and managed to be gracious even to those who snubbed her.
Yet he was still nervous. He could not help it.
As they approached Farrendel’s usual table in a sheltered corner in the back, Fingol and Fydella stood, bobbing small bows.
Farrendel drew in a deep breath, trying to force himself to calm. “Essie, this is Fingol and his wife Fydella. Fingol, Fydella, this is my wife, Essie. Princess Elspeth.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, amirah.” Fydella smiled with genuine warmth. If only Farrendel’s family had greeted Essie with the same warmth.
“It’s a pleasure to meet both of you as well.” Essie slid into the seat with her back to the rest of the café, leaving the chair with its back to the tree for Farrendel. “Farrendel has mentioned both of you many times.”
He had? Farrendel took his seat, thankful that Essie had known enough to choose the other one. They had talked a lot about his friends in the past few days as Essie planned her ideas for fundraising events to help the wounded elven warriors, but he had not realized she had paid such close attention.
An elf glided up to their table. Farrendel ordered his usual while Fingol and Fydella also ordered. Essie glanced at the paper menu, her smile dipping for a moment, before she pointed at the menu as if at random. “I’ll have this.”
The server blinked, then her gaze dropped to where Essie’s finger was pointed. The server nodded, made a note on a paper, and left.
As they waited for their food, Essie asked Fingol about what he did, and Farrendel mostly listened as Fingol talked about his business carving items out of wood. He had some plant growing magic, but it was not strong. He used it to enhance his natural skill, but much of his carving was done by hand rather than magic.
The server returned and set their food in front of them.
Farrendel watched Essie’s face, searching for any sign that she was disappointed with what she had ordered.
Essie glanced over her plate, then smiled. “This looks delicious.”
He relaxed. He had not wanted to switch with her, but he would have if he had to.
She glanced at his plate. “Yours looks good as well. I’ll have to taste a bite. If you don’t mind.”
Taste a bite? As in, eat some of his? But this meal was his. He could not wrap his mind around the thought of sharing food like that.
Yet he managed a nod. He did not want to tell her no. It must be some kind of human custom.
