to capture Farrendel in the first place. But, she forced herself to remain calm and think rationally. “I...don’t think Prince Rharreth tortured Farrendel. He’s still alive, after all.”
Weylind’s brow scrunched and, for the first time, he studied Prince Rharreth as if really seeing him.
Prince Rharreth rested a hand on his injured shoulder. “I didn’t torture him, but I did stand by and let it happen, which is hardly better. But it seems your brother has far more honor than I have given him credit for these past fifteen years. He gave me only what I gave him.”
For the first time, Essie noticed the burned ends of Prince Rharreth’s sleeves and the reddened skin around his wrists. Burned skin that matched the marks around Farrendel’s wrists.
But Farrendel hadn’t killed Prince Rharreth. Considering how far gone Farrendel had been, Essie was surprised to find some part of him had still been thinking. Perhaps not rationally. But thinking, at least.
Weylind closed his eyes, his spine sagging. “I will consider the marriage alliance. That is the only promise I am willing to make now. I will, however, speak with Melantha to ensure she is willing.” He opened his eyes, his gaze sharpening. “And I will speak with Farrendel and gain his perspective on you and the marriage alliance.”
Prince Rharreth nodded, probably realizing that was the best concession he was likely to get. “Very well. As long as the possibility of a marriage alliance is written into the treaty, I am willing to leave the final choice in Princess Melantha’s hands.”
Essie wasn’t sure how she felt about the marriage alliance. A part of her thought that if Melantha had been willing to betray her kingdom and her own brother for the trolls, then the trolls were welcome to her, and good riddance. It would serve her right to be used as a bargaining chip in a marriage alliance.
And yet, Essie knew just how hard a marriage alliance could be, and hers had been an exceptionally fortunate one. Not every marriage alliance turned out as well as hers and Farrendel’s.
Most of that was due to the fact that both she and Farrendel were the kind of people willing to put in the effort and sacrifice needed to make a marriage like theirs work.
But was Melantha that kind of person? Essie seriously doubted it. Granted, she didn’t know Melantha that well. Melantha had done her best to avoid Essie, and Essie’s strongest memory of her was of Melantha’s sneering expression as she disavowed Farrendel.
If Melantha hadn’t managed to figure out how to love her own brother in the past hundred years, how was she possibly going to find even a shred of happiness in an arranged marriage?
Did Essie even care if Melantha found happiness? She should hope that Melantha had changed through this experience, as Farrendel had seemed to believe. After seeing the state Melantha had been in, Essie should be forgiving enough to think that Melantha had suffered enough already.
Essie had some sympathy for Melantha. There was far more hatred between the trolls and elves than had ever existed between the elves and humans. A marriage alliance would not be easy.
But Essie struggled to fully pity her. Not after what she had done to Farrendel. Melantha had deeply hurt someone Essie loved. That was hard to forgive.
Not to mention, it would make this troll prince her brother-in-law. Talk about awkward family reunions.
From there, the meeting worked its way into the nitty-gritty of the treaty. Weylind worked in a clause that had Averett agreeing to station Escarlish troops along the border for the next year while Averett, in return, gained additional trade and the agreement that a few elven warriors would be sent to train with the Escarlish army to better integrate the use of magic and weaponry.
Finally, Master Wendee, Sindrel, and their assistants put the treaty together into an official format and made copies. All of the monarchs read the treaty over, making sure all the wording was satisfactory.
Essie tried not to squirm. All she wanted to do was return to Farrendel, but this moment was important. If he couldn’t witness the ending of the war he’d fought for so long, then she would do it for him.
At last, Master Wendee and Sindrel laid out three copies of the treaty on the table.
Averett pulled out a pen, the carved wooden one that Essie had gifted him. “Unless any of you have magnificent speeches about peace between our kingdoms that you intended to give at this moment,