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Weylind stalked into the car, slamming the door behind him. He whirled on Sindrel. “Why was a marriage alliance not one of the options for which we planned?”
Sindrel flinched. “It was a common practice among the humans but has been falling out of favor even among them. But the humans know we do not support this practice. I am sorry, my king, that I did not anticipate this tactic.”
Weylind tipped his head in a nod. “It was an unexpected tactic. You are dismissed. Please spend tonight researching human marriage alliance customs. I do not wish to be ambushed like that again.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Sindrel nodded and hurried from the train car. Most likely headed for the root system that sent messages across Tarenhiel in order to contact his assistants in the capital of Estyra and ask them to search through the library for information.
Once Sindrel left, Weylind faced Farrendel. “You do not have to do this. We can negotiate for another option.”
“This is what the humans want.” Farrendel crossed his arms. “If this is what it takes to avoid war, then I must do this.”
“I would not have you hurt.” Weylind gripped Farrendel’s shoulders.
Farrendel suppressed the wry twist to his mouth. Weylind sent Farrendel into battle again and again. This marriage alliance was a little thing. Wiping all expression from his face, he met Weylind’s gaze. “She does not seem forced.”
“And that makes it worse. This must be a trap. We do not know what the humans have planned that they would want their princess married to you.” Weylind stepped back from Farrendel, pacing a few steps down the aisle between the benches. “She could be a spy, sent to get close to the royal family through marriage. Or perhaps she means to assassinate you.”
Farrendel huffed out a breath. He held up his hands, releasing his tight grip on his magic. Bolts of magic crackled over his fingers, traveling up his arms. “I can protect myself. I am not about to be assassinated on my wedding night.”
He did not sleep deeply enough for that. Even a wife would be hard-pressed to kill him in his sleep.
“She might still be sent to assassinate you. You are the greatest threat to their kingdom.” Weylind’s mouth thinned.
Farrendel reined in his magic, remembering the look in the princess’s eyes. “She is no killer. I would know.”
Her eyes were bright. Innocent. Not the eyes of a killer. Not the hard eyes he saw when he looked in a mirror.
“The humans would not consent to a marriage alliance like this unless it was a trick.” Weylind paced back toward Farrendel. “All I am asking is that you are cautious. They still see us as the enemy.”
Farrendel yanked up his sleeve, revealing the thin scars surrounding his wrist and twisting up his forearm. He gritted his teeth at Weylind’s flinch, a sign of the discomfort he was not quick enough to hide. “I can recognize an enemy when I see one.”
Weylind frowned as he turned away. “I am not disregarding your judgment.”
Farrendel tugged down his sleeve, covering the scars once again. “Then trust me. This is my choice. Besides, it would offend the humans if we refused now. They would see it as an insult to their princess. That would cause the war we wish to avoid.”
Weylind’s gaze searched Farrendel’s face. “All I ask is that you do not grow too attached to her. You love too easily.”
Weylind stated it as if loving easily was a bad thing.
For Farrendel, it apparently was. He had formed friendships with some of the children in Ellonahshinel, only to have them turn on him, leaving him with a scar on his cheek from a thrown rock. He had loved the thought of the late elf queen as his mother, only to learn later she had not been his to claim. He loved his siblings, even though he had been separated from Weylind and Melantha for many years growing up.
Perhaps it was a weakness he had inherited from his mother. A mother who had flitted between rich patrons who would pay for her services and call it love. A mother who had abandoned Farrendel the first chance she had to return to the life she had chosen.
A mother Farrendel would have gladly loved, if she had given him the chance.
Farrendel would not be like her. Whatever his weaknesses, he would love meaningfully, and not cheaply.
What would that mean for this arranged marriage? This human princess would be his wife, and that would mean something, no matter how they felt about each other. It would demand his loyalty and a certain amount of attachment. What that would look like, he did not know.
But he could not tell this to Weylind. His brother would fret.
Instead, he sank onto one of the benches, trying to appear relaxed. “I will be careful.”
He was not sure why he was being so stubborn about this marriage alliance. It was almost as if he wanted this marriage.
But that could not be it. Just because her smile did something inside his chest did not make him a foolish, young elf falling into an infatuation at first glance. He had fought too many battles to be naïve.
Weylind took a seat across from him, mouth in a tight line. “You are barely a hundred years old. Far too young for marriage.”
