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Hopefully it would be enough. He had yet to tell her that he was illegitimate, something that would make his seal mean less than it should. Yet he was still a prince, even an illegitimate one. Few would dare open his seal, especially since they would know Weylind would back Farrendel if it came to that.
He closed his pack again as the silence lengthened. He did not want to leave, even though the train was already waiting at the station.
When he straightened, he found that Essie had stepped a little bit closer, his seal still clutched in her hand. “Would you mind if I hugged you farewell?”
He froze. She had hugged him before, once. It had been unexpectedly pleasant. More, it was something that he found himself longing to experience again.
Perhaps that was why his head tilted in a nod even before he had truly thought it through.
Essie moved slowly enough that he could have pulled away, if he had wished. Her arms came around him, and she embraced him, resting her head against his shoulder.
His breath caught, and he was not sure what to do with his arms. She was warm and soft against him, and he found himself wanting to draw her closer. If he dared.
Slowly, he wrapped one arm around her and rested his hand on her back.
If anything, she snuggled closer. As if she liked him embracing her.
He liked holding her. He had never realized how it would feel. Normally, he did not like having people close. But Essie was different. And what he felt when he was with her was different.
After a long moment, she pulled back. “Stay safe.”
Before he could think of any reply, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, her lips soft as they brushed his skin.
Was he still breathing? His brain was fizzling. Blindly, Farrendel fumbled for his pack, turned, and stumbled out the door. He did not even remember walking the pathways of Ellonahshinel until he met Weylind at the top of the stairs to the forest floor.
Weylind raised a questioning eyebrow, but Farrendel ignored him.
Somehow, Farrendel walked to the train station without any conscious thought. He barely noticed the people bustling along the streets, nor did he pay much attention to the sneering expression of Thanfardil, the elf in charge of arranging the train schedules, when the elf bowed to Weylind and assured him the tracks were cleared to the north.
Finally, Farrendel sank onto the bench in the seating car.
Essie hadkissedhim. On the cheek. But still. It had been a kiss.
And once again, he had neglected to tell her farewell. What did she think of him? She had kissed him, and he had run.
At least he had managed to hug her back. It was a start.
He sighed and flopped back against the seat. And now he had three weeks or more to obsess over all the things he could have done better in that goodbye.
Weylind sat on the bench across from him, his dark eyes searching Farrendel’s face. “Is something wrong, shashon?”
“I am fine.” Farrendel was not about to talk about any of this with his brother.
Weylind scowled, the lines around his mouth deepening. “Didshedo or say something?”
“No.” Yes. But not anything bad, the way Weylind meant it. “I do not want to talk about it.”
Farrendel pushed to his feet, brushed past Weylind, and retreated to his private train car.
He sprawled on the bed, staring at the broad windows as the night-shadowed trees flashed by. Perhaps, if he thought about Essie and that kiss on his cheek instead of the border and the war that lay ahead, he might even get some sleep.
* * *
Dressed in his fighting leathers,Farrendel perched on a branch high in a tree, taking a quiet moment as the sun rose a week after he had arrived at the border. So far, this patrol had been quiet. Farrendel and Weylind had traveled between the camps along the border, spending a few days at each.
As of yet, there had been no troll raids across the border. Nor had the scouts sent across the border reported any movements by the troll army. So far, the only unusual thing they had reported were the tracks left by several small bands of trolls that appeared to dart into Tarenhiel during the night before returning, yet their purpose remained a mystery. They did not raid any towns and appeared to do their best to avoid the elven warriors.
From his perch, Farrendel could just make out the edge of the Gulmorth Gorge. A cold breeze shivered down from the Kostarian mountains, tossing his hair. The layers of his leathers kept him plenty warm while his swords were a reassuring weight against his back.
