he did not want to talk to Melantha after all. He would rather go back to trying to talk to Essie through the elishina and clinging to the hope she gave him.
As the minutes dragged on and he did not respond, Melantha did not try to talk to him again.
He did not need her to keep his sanity and cling to hope. Even if his entire family were to turn on him, he still had Essie and her family. He would have a home in Aldon no matter what. Thanks to Essie, he had plenty of reasons to hope.
Besides, the trolls had made several glaring tactical errors. They had intended to spark a two-front war, a war the elves could not have won with both Escarland and Kostaria armed with Escarlish weapons. It would have been the end of Tarenhiel.
Instead, thanks to all the trolls’ machinations, Escarland and Tarenhiel would fight this war united against Kostaria. On their own, the elves of Tarenhiel had never been strong enough to take the fight to the trolls and defeat them once and for all. But with the might of the Escarlish weaponry and numbers on their side, this war could finally be over. No more fighting. No more killing. Freedom to finally dream of a future with Essie.
Not only had the trolls started a war, but they had started a war they could not win.
That made Farrendel’s capture the trolls’ biggest mistake. His capture would incite and unite all four of his brothers in a way nothing less could have. They would not rest until they had marched their armies all the way to Gror Grar, rescued Farrendel, and utterly defeated the trolls.
He just had to live long enough to be rescued.
ESSIE SWIPED at her face, pushed herself upright, and released her tight mental grip on the heart bond. As much as she wanted to stay curled in bed all day clinging to the connection she had with Farrendel through the heart bond, that wouldn’t accomplish anything toward the goal of getting him back.
After taking a long, hot shower, she considered the shelves holding the few clothes she and Farrendel had left behind when they had visited Escarland. She dressed in her own trousers, but she put on the light green tunic of Farrendel’s she’d borrowed when she’d first traveled to Estyra. It still smelled like him, like a forest with the minty hint of his shampoo.
There were probably going to be official meetings that afternoon and evening, but she didn’t care. It helped to keep something of Farrendel’s close, even if her eyes burned with more tears and a lump ached at the back of her throat.
But she had cried enough tears that day. If Farrendel could stay strong and determined while captured, she could do so here in the safety of Ellonahshinel. Besides, she did not want to burden him with her sadness when he was the one facing torture.
After checking that the puffiness had faded from her eyes and the redness from her cheeks, she made her way down the stairs and entered the main room.
There, Edmund and Julien were sitting on some of the cushions, papers and maps spread between them on the floor. Both of them looked up as she entered.
“Did you have a good nap?” Julien’s mouth tipped into an attempt at a smile. It faded quickly.
“Yes.” She had slept. That was the main thing. She navigated through the mess spread across the floor. “Though I spent more of that time trying to communicate with Farrendel through the heart bond. He’s awake, and more aware than he’s been for nearly two days. I think they were keeping him drugged or something earlier.”
“How is he doing?” Edmund set aside the paper he had been reading.
“Better than I expected. He seems determined to fight through this.” Essie sank onto the one cushion not being used by either her brothers or their papers.
Julien rested an elbow on his knee as he leaned forward to better meet her gaze. “He’s a fighter, Essie. He’ll do what it takes to get back to you. Just keep letting him know that we’re coming.”
“I already did.” She had to swallow back that pesky lump in her throat. She was strong, and she had no choice but to carry on. It was what Farrendel would want her to do. She forced a lighter tone into her voice as she peered at the explosion of paper. “Planning?”
“King Weylind was good enough to send a servant