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But, perhaps, that just meant there was more work for her to do to ensure that those she could not heal, those who were weak and crippled and did not fit what was deemed the norm, would also not be outcasts. If there was a way to do such a thing. Such prejudices were a thing of the heart, and even if she and Rharreth passed good laws, they could not change hearts.

Her own heart had already been changed. In Tarenhiel, she had perpetrated keeping her own brother an outcast. Here, she would do better. She had to do better.

The troll woman was still staring at her, as if expecting something. Or perhaps waiting to be given permission to do something. Finally, the woman bowed her head, giving a lower bow than she had before. “If you ever need anything that is in my power to give, my queen, my service is yours.”

Melantha blinked, not sure how to take such a solemn oath of fealty. For that was what it was. In Kostaria, service was not a thing to be bantered about lightly. “Thank you,” was all she managed to say before she had to trot to keep up with Rharreth as he began walking again.

“You are winning them,” he said in a low voice as she caught up and threaded her arm around his once again.

“Will it be enough, do you think?” she whispered back between a smile and a wave for those being held back by Zavni and Nirveeth nearest her.

There had been reports that many among the warrior families were not happy with their elf queen, and far less thrilled with all the healing she had been doing. No one had made any overt threat, but a report from Rharreth’s scouts and spies among his own people said that some of the warrior families had been secretly meeting together in small groups to discuss the state of Kostaria.

That was not a good sign that they were meeting behind their king’s back rather than presenting their concerns in person as they ought.

“It might.” Rharreth paused for a few minutes to talk to another troll family before they moved on and continued their conversation. “Hopefully we will convince them to our side when they arrive for the Winter Solstice Feast here in a few weeks.”

Apparently, in this place of stone and ice and snow, the Winter Solstice Feast on the longest night of the year was a big event all over Kostaria, but especially here in Osmana where at least one member of all the warrior families gathered to celebrate with their king. This would be the first time in over a hundred years that the troll king’s Winter Solstice Feast would be held in Khagniorth Stronghold inside the walls of Osmana instead of at the fortress of Gror Grar where Rharreth’s brother, father, and grandfather had preferred to hold court.

More than that, this Winter Solstice Feast would be one planned by Melantha, an elf. Planning such events was always the duty of the queen, no matter what kingdom or race, and Melantha had insisted even when Rharreth offered to do it for her this year.

As the road wound its way to the farthest height of Osmana where a wall was built out of the top of the mountain, Melantha could see over the lower sections of the wall into the surrounding mountains.

While the road winding from Osmana had been cleared, the rest of the destroyed mountaintops and the ruins of Gror Grar lay just as they had since Farrendel had laid waste with his magic.

Melantha squinted. Was that a faint, blue glitter to that section of mountains?

Rharreth’s hand settled on Melantha’s shoulder, and she glanced at him. “You have not even started rebuilding Gror Grar. I would have thought rebuilding the fortress would have been a priority.”

“We can’t. Your brother expended so much magic, it is embedded into the very stone, making it nearly impossible for all except the strongest troll to work magic in that section of mountains. I can still use my magic, but it is incredibly painful. Your brother has ensured that Gror Grar will never be rebuilt in our lifetime.” Rharreth’s fingers tightened on her shoulders, his voice lowering. “I am happy to have an excuse never to rebuild that place. It once served a purpose to defend Osmana, but it had turned into a place that embodied everything that has gone wrong with our way of thinking.”

Something warm and satisfied, perhaps even pride, filled Melantha at seeing the ruins of Gror Grar left where they had fallen. That was the strength of her brother’s magic on display for every troll to see every day from Osmana. Maybe the sight of those ruins would remind all who saw them why peace with Tarenhiel was so necessary.

After one last glance at the ruins of Gror Grar and the faint glimmer of Farrendel’s magic, Melantha let Rharreth tug her down the next road as they greeted more of their people on their way back to Khagniorth Stronghold.

By the time they returned, night had fully fallen. Melantha kept a firm grip on Rharreth’s arm so that she could tilt her head back while walking, gazing at the deep darkness of the sky filled with a myriad of twinkling stars, far more than she had ever seen in Tarenhiel. Even in the winter, the dense branches of the trees blocked parts of the sky, and it had never felt as vast as it did in Kostaria.

“Come.” Rharreth gave her a smile as he slid her grip from his arm to his hand and led the way through the passageways of Khagniorth Stronghold. “I have a surprise for you.”

Melantha hurried to keep up with his long strides, her hand feeling small clasped in his. Yet, the warmth of his calloused fingers around hers felt increasingly right each time he held her hand.

She had been expecting him to lead her to a section of Khagniorth Stronghold that she had yet to explore—the passages were seemingly endless. And, with the trolls’ ability to just grow a few more tunnels deeper into the mountain the same way the elves could just grow another room out of the tree, the stronghold was always expanding.

Yet, instead of a new passageway, Rharreth led them up the main staircase, down the familiar hallway, and halted at their bedroom door. There, a kitchen maid was waiting, holding a tray with covered dishes. Rharreth claimed the tray with a nod of thanks, then juggled both the tray and opening the door while keeping a grip on Melantha’s hand as he strode into their bedroom.

Melantha’s stomach clenched, her palm going sweaty in his grip. What was his surprise? She was not so sure she would like it.

Rharreth glanced over his shoulder at her, and his white teeth flashed against his stone-gray skin. “Don’t look so nervous. You’ll like this surprise.”

He strode past their bed, then placed his hand against the wall. White, icy magic swirled around his fingers. With a grinding of stone, an opening appeared in what had previously been a blank, definitely solid stone wall. Stairs formed, disappearing up until a tiny section of sky pierced with stars appeared in the opening far above.

“How did you...never mind, I know how.” Melantha shook her head, blinked, then stared at the set of stairs before her. “Have those stairs always been there? Or did you just create them?”

“Both.” Rharreth’s smirk widened. He was enjoying her bafflement.

Before she had thought about what she was going to do, Melantha lightly swatted him on the arm, then froze as she realized what she had done. That was not a gesture she would have felt free to do before. Nor was it something she would have done if Rharreth had been an elf. Elves were not given to such physical displays of affection. At least, elven royalty were not.

Rharreth’s deep blue eyes twinkled in the starlight as he led her up the stairs. “I built these stairs years ago, but I always put the stone wall back over the entrance to keep it my own little secret. I’ve been waiting for the right evening to show you.”