Death Wind (Elven Alliance #3) - Tara Grayce Page 0,102

If he should take a turn for the worse while she was elsewhere...

But she was still a princess. This was still her duty.

“And I’d like your peace-making skills. We’re going to need them.” Averett glanced over his shoulder, raising his voice above the whisper he had been using. “Besides, Edmund and Jalissa will stay with Farrendel and fetch us if anything changes.”

Edmund nodded. “Of course, we will.”

Perhaps it would be better to help with the diplomatic meeting. Farrendel needed his rest, and he was more likely to sleep with Edmund and Jalissa here than with her keeping him awake with her chatter.

Besides, with the heart bond, she would know if he took an unexpected turn for the worse.

When she eased toward the cot, Weylind stood, giving her room. Farrendel had his eyes closed, breathing evenly.

Essie stroked the ragged ends of Farrendel’s hair and kissed his cheek. “Rest, my love.”

He stirred, but he did not wake.

No matter. While he slept, she would help negotiate the peace treaty to end this war once and for all. Farrendel would never have to fight another battle. He would finally have the peace he deserved.

That thought gave her the courage to turn, take Averett’s arm, and leave the tent.

WHEN ESSIE CRAWLED through the door into the shelter following Averett, she found that someone had found—or made—a low, round table. Folded bedrolls formed cushions for sitting while paper and pens now lay on the table for drafting a treaty.

Someone had even managed to track down the elven diplomat Sindrel and the Escarlish diplomat Master Wendee. Both of the diplomats had helped negotiate the first treaty between Tarenhiel and Escarland. They sat across the table from the entrance with Sindrel next to Weylind and Master Wendee next to Prince Rharreth, providing a buffer between the elves and the troll prince.

That was exactly what Escarland’s role would be in this negotiation.

Prince Rharreth and Weylind sat across from each other in a silence that managed to be both frosty and awkward. Both Escarlish and elven guards lined the walls of the shelter, all wearing the dour, impassive expression of guards pretending not to listen while remaining alert. Compared to this, that first diplomatic meeting between Weylind and Averett had been a friendly affair.

Apparently, the friendliness would be up to her, even if she didn’t feel all that perky at the moment.

Essie pasted on a smile and plopped down into one of the two remaining cushion seats around the table. She picked the one next to Weylind, leaving the final spot between her and Prince Rharreth for Averett. “I’m glad everyone was available for this meeting. It is a pleasure to sit down at this table with all of you.”

Weylind and Prince Rharreth continued to glare at each other without a flicker to show they’d heard her. Prince Rharreth had one of his arms tucked close to his side, a burned hole in his jerkin above what looked like an injured shoulder. But he didn’t ask for aid or otherwise acknowledge that he was wounded.

Essie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. This was worse than trying to wrangle Weylind and Averett before they had managed to bond. Bonding probably wasn’t going to happen any time soon between Weylind and Prince Rharreth, but it would be nice if they didn’t try to stab each other with their glares.

Averett cleared his throat. “I believe we can start with the framework we used for the peace treaty between Tarenhiel and Escarland and make modifications from there.”

“A lot of modifications.” Weylind shifted to clench his fists while keeping his arms crossed. “I do not wish to encourage such open trade between Tarenhiel and Kostaria. A ceasing of hostilities is all we require.”

“But not all that my kingdom requires.” Prince Rharreth’s shoulders remained stiff, but he kept his arms loosely resting on the table, both hands in view as if to prove he was not reaching for a weapon or preparing to use his magic. “There was a time when my people and yours were kin. The forest elves aided the mountain elves with their growing magic while we provided stonework and ice. But those days—and the time when we called ourselves elves—are long past.”

“Long, long past,” Weylind muttered, though his words were loud enough he clearly wanted Prince Rharreth to hear.

Prince Rharreth’s expression and tone didn’t waver. “In the centuries since the first rift between our peoples, we have done our best to survive in our mountains. But our ground is rocky and