Page 47 of Pretense

He did not have to ask what Weylind was doing there. He was hovering, of course.

For some reason, Farrendel did not resent this hovering as much as he used to. Perhaps Weylind had gotten better, more unobtrusive at it. Or maybe, Farrendel was now able to accept the help Weylind was offering.

Before, Farrendel had been so strained, trying to hold his shattered pieces together that he had been unable to handle his family’s help, even when they offered it. It had been too much, even if it had been well meant.

Weylind gestured to his paperwork. “I can leave, if you would like.”

“No, stay.” Farrendel blew on a bite of soup. It was strangely nice, having Weylind here right now.

“Good.” Weylind turned back to his paperwork, flourishing his signature on the paper before adding it to a stack near Farrendel’s bowl. “I am enjoying the quiet to accomplish paperwork in peace. The courtiers have discovered my usual hiding places. Perhaps I should have thought to come here before. It will take them a while to find me.”

Farrendel had a mental image of his dignified brother crammed into some corner underneath a stairwell or a nook underneath a table. Despite his weariness, his mouth twitched in an attempt at a smile.

His and Essie’s rooms would make a superior hiding spot compared to a tiny corner somewhere. None of the courtiers wandered toward this part of Ellonahshinel. None of them would want to associate with the illegitimate prince that they were trying so hard to scorn.

Farrendel popped the bite of cheesy, potato soup in his mouth. It was warm and settled the churning in the pit of his stomach. He swallowed, hardly believing that he was about to make this offer. “Perhaps you could join me in my workshop sometimes.”

Farrendel would probably work on homework, if that were the case. Weylind would want quiet to concentrate, and Farrendel would be too embarrassed to fiddle with magical engineering projects with someone else other than Lance watching.

To hide his nerves, Farrendel stuffed a large bite of bread into his mouth.

Weylind’s head shot up, his dark brown eyes studying Farrendel. “I would like that, if it is truly what you wish.”

Farrendel nodded, his mouth full.

“Then, I will not presume upon your hospitality too often. Or impose on you too long when I do.” Weylind smiled, gesturing at his paperwork.

When Farrendel smiled back, something indefinable shifted. He had spent so long as the much younger sibling, as much a child to Weylind and Melantha as he was a sibling.

But now Weylind was treating him as an equal.

Weylind turned back to his paperwork. “Iyrinder is recovering as well.”

Farrendel winced. He should have thought to ask about his guard. Yes, he had been focused on Essie. But Iyrinder had taken a bullet saving Farrendel’s life. And, by saving Farrendel, he had saved Essie as well. Farrendel stirred his soup with his spoon. “Once Essie wakes, we will both have to thank him for his quick thinking.”

“I already offered to reward him with a promotion.” Weylind did not raise his head, but his gaze flicked up to Farrendel for a moment before he drew a large line across his piece of paper, adding it to the stack of items he had not signed. “He refused it. He informed me that he intends to remain on your guard detail for as long as you will have him.”

Farrendel was not sure what to say to that. Iyrinder had been incredibly loyal to Weylind before being assigned to Farrendel. What had changed?

Farrendel cleared his throat. “I am glad to have him. He is very skilled, and he handles the travel back and forth between Tarenhiel and Escarland very well.”

“Yes, he does.” Weylind gave an almost secretive smile, as if he knew something Farrendel did not.

Farrendel was too weary to try to figure out what it might be. Instead, he turned back to his bowl of soup.

They lapsed into silence, punctuated by the scratch of Weylind’s pen and the clink of Farrendel’s spoon.

When his bowl was empty, both slices of bread gone, and his stomach full, Farrendel stared down at the crumbs left on his plate. He opened his mouth, closed it, then drew in a deep breath, trying to gather the words and the courage.

“I know what Dacha felt, in those moments before your macha died. There were a few moments when I did not know if I could get to Essie before…and I could feel her slipping away and…” Farrendel met Weylind’s gaze. “I understand why it broke him. I know why he made the mistakes that he did.”

He would not make the same mistakes as his dacha, if the worst had happened and Essie had died. But he surely would have made his own mistakes.

Weylind set aside his pen with a long sigh. “I was there with Dacha, when my macha was killed. I saw the way it broke him. The severing of a heart bond like that is a dreadful thing. I am thankful that it did not happen to you. But if it had, we would have been here for you, whatever it took.”

Farrendel could not hold Weylind’s gaze. He had already put his family through so much. Thankfully he would not have to ask Weylind to drag him from that particular mire.

When he managed to glance at Weylind, his brother held his gaze, his dark eyes filled with warmth. “One of us will stay here with you. In case you need anything. If that is all right.”

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