Page 9

MELANTHA BRUSHED atthe dark green dress she wore, trying to pretend her fingers were not shaking. She was about to marry a troll, an enemy. Would she ever return to her homeland and people again?

Not that her homeland or people wanted her any longer. Nor was it likely that her new people would like her any better.

Melantha swallowed and leaned against the wall of her wooden shelter—her prison, really. Elven guards stood outside the door.

From this prison to marriage, a marriage that could turn out to be just as much of a prison.

Her breathing hitched, and Melantha gripped the wall harder as her knees threatened to buckle. She squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated on breathing steadily as her stomach churned.

Surely it would not be like that. Prince Rharreth would not hurt her. He had tried to prevent King Charvod from harming her. Surely that meant he would not harm her himself.

This was not how she had always envisioned her wedding. She had thought she would be dressed in white silk, getting ready in one of the side rooms of Ellonahshinel with her sisters Jalissa and Rheva, Weylind’s wife, at her side. That was the wedding she had been planning to have with her betrothed Hatharal, before he had ended things.

Concentrate on the good things. Marrying Prince Rharreth was better than banishment. Better than execution in the forsaken grove. Better than marrying an elf like Hatharal.

Melantha dragged herself straight and forced her breathing to calm. She could do this. She was a princess of the elves and soon to be the queen of the trolls. An elf princess did not break under pressure. She remained calm and composed at all times.

She could still see Hatharal with that slight curl to his lip when she did something that betrayed the emotions boiling inside her.You are too much, Melantha.

Outside, the muted sound of voices came from the guards a moment before someone threw back the canvas door and ducked inside. Her face set into hard lines, Jalissa straightened and faced Melantha, her eyes colder than the breeze that accompanied her.

Melantha swallowed. Jalissa had not yet spoken to her since the rescue. What could Melantha say? How did she even begin to repair the damage she had done? “I did not think you would be coming.”

“I would not have, but Elspetha and Farrendel seemed to think I should.” Jalissa’s fingers tightened into fists at her sides. “They are far too forgiving. More forgiving than I am. How could you, Melantha? How could you do this to our brother? Our new sister?”

Melantha stared at the floor and did not try to answer. What could she say? She had told Farrendel about her anger, her horrible choices. But he, of all people, had deserved an answer from her.

And, for some reason, he had found Melantha’s explanations to be enough. Jalissa would not.

Because, truthfully, no explanation was enough for why a sister would plot to murder her own brother. Sure, Melantha had not tried to do it with her own hands. But turning Farrendel over to the trolls to be tortured and killed was even worse than if she had attempted to kill him herself.

Finally, as the silence stretched, Melantha sighed and risked a glance at Jalissa. “It was wrong. And I am sorry.”

“That hardly makes up for what you have done at this point.” Jalissa glared, her dark brown eyes glinting even in the poorly lit shelter. “Now, do you want help with your hair? If not, then I am leaving.”

“Please, if you would.” Weddings were one of the few times elves wore their hair in a style other than down. Without a mirror, it would be difficult to do anything with her hair herself.

Melantha sat on the floor, since she had been given no chairs, tables, or even a bed besides a blanket to spread out on the wooden floor. After what she had done, the fact that she had even been given a blanket was an unexpected kindness.

Jalissa’s hands in Melantha’s hair were rough, yanking instead of gentle. But Melantha did not protest. Did not let herself flinch. Did not so much as let tears pool in her eyes.

After a few minutes, Melantha drew in a deep breath. She was not sure how to approach this topic with Jalissa.

But, this was likely to be her only chance, and Jalissa needed to be prepared. Even if she was not going to like this conversation.

“Jalissa, I am also sorry for what my actions and my marriage will mean for you.” Melantha swallowed and stared at the wall in front of her as Jalissa’s hands stilled in her hair.