and rested a hand on Farrendel’s shoulder.
Farrendel sucked in a breath as the warm healing magic clashed against the cold inside him, resulting in a burning pain.
The healer grimaced and drew his hand away. “Too much troll magic inside him yet.”
“Understood.” The surgeon rested a leather bag on the table, pulled out a needle and a vial.
Farrendel swung his gaze to the ceiling. He remembered enough of receiving a shot of that morphine before. The numbness had been welcome, but knowing someone was inserting something beneath his skin yet again was not.
The surgeon tapped his now filled needle with a finger. “Nylian, his arm?”
The healer peeled back the blankets from Farrendel’s arm, turned it so that the inside of his elbow faced up, and swabbed it with a dab of some cold liquid.
Farrendel braced himself. Weylind’s hand rested on his shoulder, pinning him down. Something pricked the inside of his elbow, then a cold sensation pushed into him.
Weylind sank onto the chair once again, his hand leaving Farrendel’s shoulder. “Thank you for coming, Nylian, Maxwell, and delaying your rest.”
The surgeon nodded. “We were needed.”
The elf healer gave a nod as well, and both of them left the tent.
The numbness spread up Farrendel’s arm to his shoulder, easing the pain as it went. He sank deeper into the blankets. “Thank you, shashon. This is better.”
“I know you need sleep, but there is something I wished to discuss.” Weylind rested his elbows on his knees, staring at his hands.
By that posture, it must be serious. Farrendel blinked and forced himself to focus on Weylind. “I will stay awake.”
“It is Melantha.” Weylind rubbed at a palm with his thumb. “Prince Rharreth has asked for a marriage alliance as part of the treaty, and he requested to marry Melantha.”
Another marriage alliance. His people had gone from never agreeing to such things to being bombarded with them from every side.
Not that Farrendel would ever regret marrying Essie. Marrying her was the best thing to happen to him, even if he had not known it at the time.
But Melantha...and Prince Rharreth? Farrendel could not picture it.
“Before I agree, I need to know what part Prince Rharreth played in your torture. He claims he did not actively torture you the way his brother did. I am not sure I believe him.” Weylind’s shoulders hunched, his head hanging as if from the weight of this decision.
“He...” Farrendel was not sure what he thought of Prince Rharreth. Yes, he let Melantha make Farrendel more comfortable. But he had still allowed the torture to continue. “He is utterly loyal to Kostaria. But he is more honorable than his brother.”
“That is not high praise.” Weylind grimaced and shook his head. “A rock would be more honorable than King Charvod was.”
“I do not think he will hurt Melantha.” Farrendel did not wish to remember anything of those days of agony, especially the last three days where the torture had been unrelenting without food, water, or a shred of mercy.
But Prince Rharreth had tried to convince his brother to punish him instead of Melantha. Hopefully, that meant he had enough honor that he would not harm her. At least, not physically.
Still, Farrendel was not sure it would be a marriage he would wish for his sister, even Melantha.
“That is a comfort.” Weylind’s words came out on a heavy sigh. His head hung, as if the weight on his shoulders remained heavy. “I also need to know what you wish for justice. You were the one she hurt the most when she betrayed Tarenhiel. If you do not believe marriage to the soon-to-be troll king is sufficient punishment, I will consider other options.”
Did Weylind think Farrendel wanted Melantha harmed? After everything, she was still his sister.
How did he feel about Melantha? She had betrayed him. But then, she had helped him. Now, there was just a tangled ache where once they had been siblings.
After this moment, would Farrendel’s family be whole ever again? Or would they always be scattered across the kingdoms, split by pain?
No, Farrendel had no wish for this pain to linger. Whatever he had to do, he would do it, if it meant that the ache that began over a hundred years ago when the elf queen was killed did not continue to tear his family apart.
It was becoming harder to keep his eyes open. “No, I do not wish her punished. All I want for her is mercy.”
Weylind’s hand rested on Farrendel’s shoulder for a moment. “I should have expected