Page 86

Her brothers clustered around her as she strode down the stairs and out the door of the commander’s quarters. Gathering her composure, she managed to put on a princess smile and thank the commander of the outpost for his hospitality, as if she wasn’t shattered and hollow inside.

Essie kept the brittle smile on her face all the way until she climbed the stairs into the privacy of the royal train waiting on the outpost’s siding.

Yet she couldn’t break, even here. All three of her brothers were there and watching. Down the hallway, Jalissa sat in the parlor of the royal car. And, down the train tracks at Linder Island, Essie would have to face King Weylind and try to stop him from starting a war with her brother over losing his brother.

It was so tempting to turn into one of the compartments and hide away. What she wanted to do was curl on a bunk and sob. Preferably while clutching a piece of clothing belonging to Farrendel. That would be the tragic, romantic thing to do, right?

Past the compartments, Jalissa perched on the padded bench seat, perfectly still, staring at the dark green carpet on the floor as if it held the answers to all of life’s problems.

Essie couldn’t just hide and ignore Jalissa’s grief. Jalissa was stuck in a kingdom not her own, surrounded by a family that wasn’t hers while she dealt with her sister’s betrayal and her brother’s capture. Essie was the closest thing to family Jalissa had right then.

Since marrying Farrendel, Essie had focused on how Melantha and Jalissa kept her at a distance. How they didn’t embrace her as their sister.

Yet, how often had she thought of them as her sisters-in-law? She’d always thought of them as Farrendel’s sisters, not hers.

It had been different with Paige. Since Paige was already Essie’s best friend, that friendship had only deepened with sisterhood. It hadn’t taken an effort to build that relationship.

Essie hadn’t put in the effort for Melantha and Jalissa. Perhaps she could be excused since it had been necessary to focus on building her relationship with Farrendel first.

But it was time Essie stepped up and was the sister Jalissa needed.

Essie eased onto the seat next to Jalissa. She didn’t speak. Even she couldn’t find the words for this moment.

Perhaps, silence was best right now. An understanding silence of just being there, ready to listen if Jalissa needed to talk.

Jalissa clenched and unclenched her fingers into her skirt. The layers of wrinkles already there spoke to how long she’d been sitting there doing that, over and over again. “I cannot believe Melantha would do this to us. Why would she betray her own family and kingdom?”

“She thought she was doing it for the good of Tarenhiel. I think she believed—or wanted to believe—the trolls when they said all they wanted was Farrendel.” Essie’s words rang hollow as the train shuddered into motion, sending vibrations through her feet and the couch she sat on.

She wasn’t defending Melantha or making excuses for her. No, this was for Jalissa to try to help her come to grips with a sister’s utter betrayal.

“Even so, how could she do this to Farrendel?” Jalissa’s fingers squeezed her burgundy skirt into a ball, and this time, she didn’t unclench her fists. “He is our brother.”

“She said she doesn’t see him that way.” Essie had never felt particularly close to Melantha, so the betrayal didn’t hurt her the way it did Farrendel and Jalissa. But she’d tried to imagine Averett, Julien, or Edmund doing something like this.

She honestly couldn’t. It was too unthinkable.

Not simply because they were her brothers, but because her whole family’s culture wouldn’t allow for something like this. The tragedy of losing their father had knit them closer together, far closer than most royal families.

Perhaps it was because she was an outsider, but Essie had been able to see how Farrendel’s family had been shattered at its core. King Weylind had done his best to pick up the pieces. Jalissa looked out for Farrendel, and Melantha had pretended to care.

But due in part to the large age gaps between the siblings and the elven culture that so disdained Farrendel for simply being born, it had been a difficult, nearly impossible task.

Jalissa turned shattered, dark brown eyes to Essie. “Does she not remember the little one we helped raise? How we fell in love the first time we held him as a tiny infant?”

“I bet Farrendel was an adorable child.” Essie clasped her hands to stop herself from reaching for Jalissa. Her elf sister-in-law wouldn’t appreciate the contact the way Paige would have.

“He was.” Jalissa’s voice grew rough and scratchy. “He was not always like he is now. He was always quiet, but he would smile and laugh and sometimes even chatter with us. When he would look up at me with those blue eyes of his, it was nearly impossible to tell him no.”

“I can imagine.” He hadn’t lost that kicked puppy dog look as an adult. Though, it was hard to think about Farrendel laughing and doing enough talking to count as chattering. “It’s amazing he didn’t end up spoiled rotten.”

Jalissa’s brow wrinkled for a moment, then smoothed. “Life would not let him. That scar on his face?” She touched her own cheek. “He did not receive it from the trolls. That happened in Estyra when he was fifteen. That was when he stopped smiling and laughing and talking.”

Fifteen. It would have been young for a human to experience something traumatic enough to leave a scar. But for an elf, that was the equivalent of seven or eight years old.

It must have been traumatic for him. Bad enough that he had yet to tell Essie about it, even though they’d talked about his torture at the hands of the trolls. But an injury done at the hands of his own people?

No wonder he felt he had to earn love. Honestly, it was amazing he’d ever become Laesornysh, willing to lay his life on the line for his people, rather than become a traitor himself.