Page 46 of Pretense

Edmund, too, was so weary his bones ached. But exhaustion was nothing new. He had shivered in Kostaria for days without food and sleep. He had crossed half of Tarenhiel on foot, fought a border guard, and swam across the Hydalla while bleeding from a knife wound, all to make it to Essie’s eighteenth birthday party on time. Conducting a stakeout while lacking sleep was nothing too difficult, even if having Jalissa slumped against him was new.

If only he could savor this moment forever. She was the woman he’d always dreamed of having at his side. She was the kind of person who could either make a statement or blend into the background as she saw fit. She was clever enough to know how to use her serene nature to her advantage. The perfect complement for a prince or a spy, one who would make her own mark on his worlds—both shadowy and glittering—if given the chance.

He’d had his chance three times over now. And yet, they were still as doomed as they had been at the beginning.

Chapter Fifteen

Farrendel sat next to his and Essie’s bed, grown into the wall of their quiet bedroom in Ellonahshinel. She was still sleeping, her hair flowing across the pillows and the color returning to her cheeks. Even though Rheva had assured him it would be hours yet before Essie fully woke, he could not leave her side just in case.

He had laid out his homework on the bedside table with good intentions of working on it while he waited. But all he had managed was staring at the papers and rearranging them occasionally. It felt so pointless to work on homework while Essie was recovering from being shot and their child might not survive all the stress and he could do nothing to help either of them.

There was a light rap on the door before Essie’s macha stepped inside. She crossed the room and touched Farrendel’s shoulder. “You should take a break. Get some food. Take a few deep breaths. I’ll stay with her for a while.”

Farrendel shook his head. “I cannot leave her.”

Macha squeezed his shoulder. “I know. I understand. But you can’t take care of her if you don’t take care of yourself first. Essie understands that.”

Yes, she did. When he was recovering in that tent in Kostaria, she had taken breaks to eat and sleep. She had not kept an unending vigil at his bedside, and he had not thought any less of her for it.

He glanced up at Macha, taking in the lines etched into her face and the strength in her stance. “How did you do it?”

“Do what?” She studied him in return with that soft gaze that felt like a hug.

“Survive losing Essie’s dacha.” Farrendel stared down at his hands. “My dacha did not. Losing his spouse broke him.”

“I can’t speak for your dacha.” Essie’s macha perched at the edge of the bed facing Farrendel. “But I survived because I focused on what I had to live for instead of what I had lost. I had my children who still needed me to be there for them. I had a kingdom to run as regent until Averett was old enough to take the throne.”

Then why had that not been enough for his dacha? Dacha had a kingdom to run as well, but he had all but abdicated and handed everything to Weylind. Dacha had three children, and yet he had gone seeking comfort elsewhere, resulting in a fourth, illegitimate child.

Perhaps it was because Weylind, Melantha, and Jalissa were old enough that they did not need Dacha the way that Averett, Julien, Edmund, and Essie had needed Essie’s macha, though Jalissa had been about the same age as Ryfon was now.

Or maybe Essie’s macha was just that strong of a woman that she had been able to carry on when his dacha had not.

Right now, Farrendel felt more like his dacha than Essie’s macha. While keeping Essie alive in the heart bond, he had not been thinking about their families or everything he had to live for. He had been ready to cause them more grief in order to die alongside Essie if he could not save her.

But that was not necessarily a healthy way of looking at things, especially not now. Not when he would soon have more than just Essie depending on him.

He could not explain to Macha why he was asking these questions. Essie should know before her mother.

Then again, Essie should have been the first to know, even before Farrendel. But things had not worked out the way they were supposed to.

“Now, go on. Get something to eat.” Macha gestured toward the door. “Essie will still be sleeping when you get back.”

Even if she was not, he would feel through the heart bond when she started to wake up. He could be back by the time she was awake.

Gathering his shreds of motivation, Farrendel pushed to his feet. His legs felt wobbly as he crossed the room and left, so much so that he ran his hand along the new handrail he had installed for Essie as part of her birthday present.

When he entered the main room, he stopped short.

Weylind sat at the table, bent over a piece of paper with several neat stacks set on the table around him. He glanced up as Farrendel entered, then gestured with his quill toward the wooden kitchen countertop. “There is food set out for you, if you want it.”

Farrendel’s stomach had not stopped churning from the moment Essie had been shot. He had not yet eaten, despite leaving the contents of his stomach back in Escarland. Food did not sound appealing.

Yet, when he turned to the countertop, he found a bowl of a creamy soup, still hot enough to waft steam, and two large slices of bread that sent up such a yeasty, warm smell that his stomach grumbled.

This had to be Miss Merrick’s doing, though how she had found the time and energy since their arrival was beyond him.

After claiming the bowl and plate of bread, Farrendel slid onto the chair across from Weylind and set his meal on the one open spot on the table.

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