Page 66 of War Bound

But he hadn’t done this for politics. At least, not only for politics. He’d done this for her. To show her that he was just as willing to embrace her people as she had been to embrace his.

She closed the remaining distance between them, something sizzling in the air. She didn’t know where to put her hands and settled for straightening the neckcloth. “You look very dashing.”

The tight and tailored fashion in Escarland accentuated the slimness of his waist, the line of his shoulders. Even through the layers of shirt and tailcoat, her fingers felt his warmth. His strength.

She was leaning into him, her face tipped up to meet his gaze. “Farrendel...” His name whispered out on a breath.

Then she was kissing him. How much did they really need to attend the ball tonight?

Farrendel eased the kiss from her mouth to her cheek. “You are messing up my hair.”

She laughed, tucking her head against his neckcloth. His hands were on her back, and, as far as she could tell without a mirror, he had nicely kept from messing up the hairstyle she’d spent nearly an hour perfecting. How he’d managed to have that much presence of mind, she didn’t know.

It took immense self-control, but she forced herself to ease back from him. If she didn’t, they’d end up late for the banquet being held in their honor.

When she inspected the damage her fingers had done to Farrendel’s hair, she huffed. “You have, maybe, one hair out of place. Is it even possible to mess up your hair?”

She ruffled a section of his hair. He ducked away from her hand, grimacing. His hair floated back into place. Yep, definitely magical hair or conditioner or both.

“Nope. Apparently, it’s impossible for your hair to look anything but perfect.” This time when she reached out, she ran her fingers through his hair, smoothing the two strands that were out of place. As his hair trailed over her hand, it sparked a thought. “You sense what’s around you with your hair, right? The air drafts or something like that, as far as I can figure out. How much would it bother you to have your hair tied back for an evening? Short hair is currently the fashion in Escarland, but long hair used to be fashionable about a hundred years ago. Not quite this long. More shoulder length for men. Anyway, the men would tie it back. It would give your hair a more human hairstyle. But you don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

Farrendel went still beneath her hand. After several moments, he tipped his head. “While I will need to be alert, my senses will be confused with so many people pressed close. If you think that tying back my hair will help tonight, then I will.”

How were her knees going this weak and mushy over something like a hairstyle? But it said a lot, that he was willing to tie back his hair for her.

“Just for tonight. You can go back to wearing it loose just as soon as the ball is over. Come on.” Essie tugged him toward her dressing table and nudged him into her chair. “Let me.”

He held himself stiff, back straight, in her chair. She reached for her hairbrush but stopped. If he could sense air stirring behind him, then either his hair or his scalp was rather sensitive. The hairbrush would probably hurt.

Not that his hair needed the aid of a hairbrush to detangle it. It glided over her fingers as she finger-combed from his scalp to the ends of his long, split-end free strands. As she gathered his hair, his shoulders relaxed, his spine melting back against the chair. Apparently, having one’s hair played with relaxed elves just as much as it did humans.

She could see it all too clearly. Farrendel sitting on the floor, a crowd of nieces around him, braiding his hair, adding bows and ribbons and sparkling hair pieces while he willingly let them.

Or, maybe not nieces. Maybe daughters. Daughters with pointed ears like his and auburn hair like Essie’s brother Averett. Not her own flaming red hair. She didn’t yet love her hair color enough to wish it on daughters, even if Farrendel liked it.

Her fingers stilled. They’d been so focused on building their relationship in the here and now that long-term future plans hadn’t come up. It was hard to plan that far ahead with the war looming over them.

She cleared her throat, hoping Farrendel couldn’t tell how pink her face must be if he glanced up at the mirror. After locating a black ribbon, she tied it around his hair in a manly knot, making sure it wasn’t too tight. “How’s that? Does it hurt, at all? Don’t be afraid to tell me. Believe me, I know the headache you can get from having your hair slicked back too tight or a hairpin jabbed into your scalp.”

He cocked his head, his gaze focused on the mirror. With his hair tied back, the tapered points of his ears were even more obvious. Perhaps tying his hair back wouldn’t make him look more human after all, though it did complete the overall look. Finally, his gaze lifted to meet hers in the mirror. “It does not hurt.”

By his tone, she couldn’t tell if he liked it or hated it. The fact that he had gone blank and flat-toned probably meant he didn’t like it all that much.

She rested her elbows on his shoulders, wrapping her arms around his neck. “It’s all right to say if you don’t like it. Don’t feel like you have to change your appearance for me. Not your hair or your clothes or anything, all right?”

His eyes widened, and he twisted to look at her rather than the mirror. “Is that how you felt in Estyra?”

The horror in his voice brought a smile. “No. I was more than happy to ditch my Escarlish clothes for Tarenhieli ones. Your women wear trousers, and no one thinks anything of it. And I can just let my hair stay down and loose without spending nearly an hour each day pinning it up. I was more than happy to change my style of hair and dress.”

“I am happy to change tonight.” He glanced back at himself in the mirror. “But I think only for tonight.”

“Well, I think you’ll be the most dashing man there no matter what you’re wearing.” She traced his ear with a finger, her head close to his as she leaned against his shoulders.

“Essie...” His voice had a tight, almost strained note to it she’d never heard before. “I think if you want to arrive on time, then we had better leave.”

When he turned to face her, his expression was the soft, yearning one he got right before he kissed her. But he didn’t close the distance. She didn’t either.

The attraction she felt for him now was different than it had been. Yes, she loved his muscles. His scars. His looks. But, deeper than that, she loved his heart. She loved his protective fierceness that gained him those muscles and scars. She loved the vulnerability in his eyes when he admitted something personal to her. The shy look he had when attempting to flirt. The gaping wonder when he tried hot chocolate for the first time, and the way he smiled when she prattled on about nonsense.

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