Page 2
Story: Troll Queen
“Perhaps you’re right. These are the trolls with their whole obsession with honor and battle and all that. My war-torn clothes are probably considered standard wedding attire.” She glanced at the dress and its flowing, thin silk. “Besides, this dress probably wouldn’t be warm enough, unless I wore my boots and warm, fur-lined trousers underneath and coat over it, and that would defeat the purpose of wearing the dress in the first place.”
Thanks to the trolls slinging around so much ice and snow during the war, they had brought on an early winter here in the cold reaches of the northern mountains.
But...this was a royal wedding. She had the reputation of Escarland to uphold. It seemed wrong not to wear a dress.
Farrendel just stared at her, not even the slightest twitch to his mouth at her rambling.
What was she supposed to do? She didn’t know how to bring the smile back.
After setting the dress on her pack, she sat next to Farrendel on the cot and gripped one of his hands. “Is it the wedding? Do you actually want to go?”
Farrendel stared at the floor, his hand remaining limp in Essie’s grip rather than holding her hand in return.
She rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand. “It is all right if you don’t want to go. You don’t have to. I’ll stay here with you or go with you, whichever you decide.”
For several long moments, Farrendel remained unmoving and silent. Then, the taut muscles of his back relaxed. He huffed out a long breath. “I would like to go. I need to protect Weylind and your brothers.”
Right now, Essie suspected that Farrendel’s brother Weylind and her brothers Averett, Julien, and Edmund would do more of the protecting.
“And I need to be there for Melantha.” Farrendel straightened and gripped one of the straps across his chest.
Essie wasn’t sure how she felt. Farrendel seemed determined to be forgiving, but she wasn’t sure it was a good idea. His sister Melantha had plotted to kill him. Perhaps she had changed, after spending two weeks in the trolls’ dungeon. But Essie wasn’t ready to fully trust her yet.
But she would stand by Farrendel if he wished to go. A hundred years from now, he would likely regret it if he didn’t attend. Melantha was still his sister, even after everything.
“All right, but let’s not stay long. We have a morning train to catch to go home.” Essie trailed her fingers up and down Farrendel’s back, avoiding his sheathed swords.
Home. It was such a beautiful word. Essie couldn’t wait to hop on that train and go home. Probably to Estyra. With Farrendel like he was, it would be best to stick to the place where he felt most comfortable.
A knock rattled against the post of the tent a moment before Julien’s voice called from outside. “Are the two of you ready? May I come in?”
“Come on in.” Essie shook her head and leaned her elbows on her knees. “Though, isn’t it a little early for the wedding? I haven’t even started to get ready. Unless I’m going in what I’m wearing. Then, I am actually ready, though I probably should see if I can do something with my hair.”
Julien strode inside, then wrestled the tent flap back into place. “We have about an hour yet. Averett sent me to check on you.”
Her brothers were hovering. Almost as much as Farrendel’s siblings. If Weylind hadn’t been so busy arranging the peaceful transfer of power back to the troll prince and Jalissa hadn’t been helping Melantha get ready, Farrendel’s brother and sister would probably have been breathing down Essie’s and Farrendel’s necks as well.
“I am fine.” Farrendel’s voice had a growl to it. It was the most emotion he’d shown all morning.
Essie wasn’t sure she preferred anger over listlessness, but at least it was something.
Julien studied Farrendel and nodded, though his frown indicated that he wasn’t sure Farrendel was as fine as he claimed. Sinking onto the one chair in the tent, Julien propped his feet on the cot next to Essie. “Considering I’m going to this wedding like this, you’re ready to go, Essie.”
Good point. Essie leaned down and stuffed the midnight-blue dress into her pack, mentally apologizing to the silk and whichever elf servant would spend hours getting the dress presentable once again.
Instead, Essie reached for her rifle where Julien had stashed it under the cot when he’d returned it. She slung the rifle across her back, trying not to elbow Farrendel. “In that case, I might as well accessorize to complete the look.”
That earned her the slightest twitch to Farrendel’s mouth.
Even though Julien was still there, Essie reached for Farrendel’s hand again. This time, he squeezed her fingers back.
They had survived being strangers in an arranged marriage. They had survived capture and a war. Surely, together, they could face whatever the future held.
Table of Contents
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- Page 2 (Reading here)
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