Death Wind (Elven Alliance #3) - Tara Grayce Page 0,115

he wanted for her was to find the peace and happiness she had not managed to find in Estyra. “I hope you find the freedom in your marriage that I have in mine.”

Melantha glanced at the curtain. “Is that what you found with your human princess? Freedom?”

“Yes.” He did not hesitate. With her magic still lending strength to his muscles, Farrendel reached out and gripped her shoulders. “If you need help, I will come. Even if no one else will.”

“Linshi, shashon.” Melantha reached out and gripped his shoulders. Her eyes studied him. “You have not yet told her how difficult the next months will be, have you?”

Farrendel dropped his gaze to his bare toes. No, he had not. How could he explain what it had been like the last time? The blur of weariness and healers and Weylind badgering him into going through the motions of living. Eating without really tasting. Dressing without caring what he wore. Sleeping because he did not care enough to move to do anything else.

Right now, the relief of rescue staved off the nightmares. But, they would return, and when they did...he was so tired of fighting his own mind. Weary of the constant battle.

Essie had seen the cracks in him when they were in Escarland and some of the careful balance he maintained tipped out of his control.

Control had been ripped out of his grasp again. If he spiraled like he had before...this time, Essie would bear the brunt of the burden, a burden he had no wish to place on her shoulders.

When he returned to Tarenhiel, he would have to try. Harder than he had last time. Even if he did not feel strong enough. He had picked up the pieces of his life once. Surely he could do it again.

Melantha must have seen his answer in his eyes, even if he did not say it. She squeezed his shoulders before stepping back. “Then I make the same promise. If you need anything, I will come.”

Farrendel nodded, her words a soothing balm. Perhaps, their relationship could never go back to what it was. But, maybe, it could be better.

MELANTHA STRODE from the healers’ tent with her head high, her back straighter than it had been in weeks.

Farrendel had forgiven her. Somehow, incredibly, he had reached out to heal what she had destroyed. After the past two weeks, it was the brother she had tried to murder who understood her best.

As soon as Melantha stepped outside, Princess Elspeth hurried forward, brushing past her as if intent on returning to Farrendel without saying a word to Melantha.

Weeks ago, Melantha would have been content to coldly walk by, but Farrendel was not the only one she had hurt. “Princess Elspetha, please wait a moment.”

Princess Elspeth turned, though her body still leaned in the direction of the tent as if her need to return to Farrendel was a physical pull. A canvas bag was slung over her shoulder. “Yes?”

Melantha refused to feel the sting of the clipped tone. It was the least she deserved. With a deep breath, she met Princess Elspeth’s gaze. “I am sorry for the distress my actions caused you.”

And for plotting to murder Princess Elspeth along with Farrendel, though Melantha did not mention that.

Princess Elspeth’s eyes remained cool, her expression neutral. “Thank you for apologizing.”

With that, she swept into the tent, not waiting for any response from Melantha.

Not that Melantha had planned to say anything more. It was not as if she wished to ask the human princess for advice on navigating a marriage of alliance or anything. Melantha might be disgraced, but she still had some pride.

With her head high, Melantha faced her family. Jalissa talked with the human king and princes. When Melantha’s gaze turned to her, Jalissa’s face hardened, and she turned her back.

Melantha refused to feel the stab of pain. She was getting married tomorrow, and, most likely, she would not have her sister at her side. This was the last day their family would be together for a long time, and they were not even speaking to each other.

A few feet away, Weylind stood with his arms crossed, two elf warriors at his back, waiting to take her back to her prison. He would call it a shelter, but the root shackle said otherwise.

Yet Prince Rharreth also waited, off to the side. Was he waiting to speak with her?

Melantha turned in his direction, walking swiftly so that Weylind would not have a chance to intercept her. She halted