through him, filling him from the depth of his chest to his fingertips and toes.
When Melantha withdrew her hand, she straightened, something of the controlled sister that he remembered returning to her bearing. “That is the last of the stone.”
Farrendel pushed onto his elbows, then swung his feet off the table and tried to push himself upright. His head spun, unused to sitting upright after so long lying down. When he swayed, Essie wrapped an arm around his shoulders and helped him the rest of the way upright. Even when he steadied, she kept her arm around his shoulders.
As much as he did not like being an invalid, he did not pull away from her.
Weylind strode forward, arms crossed. “Then I will escort Melantha back to her shelter.”
Melantha shot a glance to Farrendel, her eyes pleading.
Farrendel was not ready to see her escorted away either. He had not talked with her since their rescue, and he could not see her married tomorrow without speaking with her. Nor could he leave Kostaria until he settled things between them. “Wait. I wish to speak with her.”
Weylind turned, face set. “You do not have to, Farrendel.”
“I still wish to speak with her.” Farrendel tried to make his voice strong.
“Then I will stay.” Weylind crossed his arms, standing between Farrendel and Melantha.
“No.” Farrendel did not need Weylind hovering.
Essie squeezed Farrendel’s hand, her gaze searching his face. “Do you want me to stay? Or would you rather talk with her alone?”
A part of him wanted Essie to remain there, ready to save the conversation if it stuttered. But if she remained, then Weylind would continue to hover. And Melantha might not speak freely before either of them.
“Alone. But please do not go far.” He hated that those last words sounded pleading. He hated being weak.
“All right.” Essie kissed his cheek. With a glance at Melantha, Essie herded all the nurses, healer, surgeon, Averett, Prince Rharreth, and Weylind from the curtained off room in the hospital tent.
Farrendel gripped the edge of the surgical table, willing himself to remain strong and steady. “Thank you for coming to heal me.”
“It was the least I could do. I owe you so much more.” Melantha stared at the ground, her arms wrapped over her stomach. Farrendel could not remember seeing Melantha so uncertain before. She always held her head high, confidently navigating royal life in Estyra. He had envied her for that ease and confidence. Her shoulders hunched. “I am so sorry. For everything. If I could go back, I would do so many things differently. I wish...”
She trailed off, but Farrendel could hear the unfinished wish. It was the same wish aching inside his chest.
Farrendel shifted. The table lacked a back to lean against, his ribs still sore as Melantha’s magic worked to heal the deep wounds. “I might have ended up here even without your betrayal. Thanfardil would have arranged for my kidnapping either way.”
“It would have been more difficult without my help.” Melantha’s arms tightened over her stomach. “I was so foolish to let him manipulate my anger and resentment like he did. I should never have done it. I never...I am so sorry.”
“I know.” Thanks to the past two weeks, he did know that. “I am thankful you were here. I would not have survived without you, though I am sorry for what you had to endure.”
Melantha nodded, giving him a brief glimpse of the drawn, haunted look on her face.
It was a look he knew all too well. He felt that same shattered emptiness. And, while he would be going home, she would be stuck here for the rest of her life, unable to leave the darkness of this place behind.
Yes, she would be queen. But that meant she would have far less freedom than Farrendel and Essie had to move between kingdoms and visit family.
For her sacrifice, Farrendel would be forever grateful. Melantha’s marriage to the soon-to-be troll king could establish a lasting peace. Farrendel might never have to fight and kill again, thanks to Melantha.
“If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask. You are not alone.” Farrendel could not imagine going into a marriage alliance without the overprotective support of his family. They had hovered—annoyingly, suffocatingly—when he had first married Essie. But they had cared.
“Am I not?” She shook her head, pain in her voice. “This might as well be banishment.”
Strangely, after everything, he did not want that for her. Now that he knew the depth of her pain and anger, all