Page 49 of Pretense

“Your arm will feel better if you keep moving it.” Farrendel rolled his own shoulder, as if demonstrating what she should do.

Essie forced herself to lift her arm, then moved it back and forth. She didn’t doubt his suggestion. He would know. He had healed from gunshots numerous times, after all.

Her stomach lurched, and she had to swallow back bile. “I’m a little nauseous, but that’s probably to be expected since I haven’t eaten in…how long has it been?”

The treetops were bright and green outside, but she couldn’t make out the angle of the sun.

“About a day since you were shot.” Farrendel shifted, pulling his legs onto the bed and sitting cross-legged.

She tugged aside the collar of her shirt until she could see the scar on her upper chest. She grimaced and dropped her shirt. “I have a scar. It’s going to be visible whenever I wear a fancy dress.”

Unless she only wore dresses with necklines all the way to her collarbone. That would be the only way to hide it.

“Essie.” Farrendel’s voice remained soft as he brushed his fingers against her cheek. “You know I don’t mind your scar.”

Those words were familiar, since Essie had said them to Farrendel often enough.

Here she was, complaining about a single scar, when Farrendel had that scar on his cheek, scars on his wrists and hands, scars from bullets and swords and stone lacing across his chest.

She reached out and took his hands, turning them over so that she could see the scars wrapping around his wrists from where the stone had pinned him to the floor. “You’re right. I shouldn’t fret about it. If anything, it makes us a matched set, doesn’t it?”

The smile dropped from his face, and he tugged his hands free of hers. “You were shot because of me. The assassin shot you, knowing that keeping you alive in the heart bond would make me vulnerable. Once again, you were put in danger because of me.”

He stared down at his hands, his shoulders hunched, his silver-blond hair falling to hide his face.

“It is not your fault.” Essie eased from the pillows to rest her hand on his. “You are not responsible for the decisions of others, whether that is King Charvod of the trolls or Escarlish traitors or this new assassin.”

“Still, your life would have been a lot safer if you had never married me.” Farrendel wasn’t looking at her, all tension and barely controlled panic.

True. Without Farrendel, she never would have been caught in that ambush near Lethorel, kidnapped by Escarlish spies, fought in a war to rescue him, killed both trolls and an Escarlish traitor, and now been shot while walking on the street of her home city of Aldon.

But without Farrendel, she wouldn’t have a home here in the treetop palace of Ellonahshinel. She wouldn’t have gained his family or friends as her own.

Most of all, she wouldn’t have him. She wouldn’t have this love in her chest that was so deep it ached, nor would she know what it was like to experience such love in return.

Essie leaned forward and touched Farrendel’s cheek, tipping his head so that he faced her. “I wouldn’t trade you and what we have together for anything, especially not for something as fleeting as physical safety.”

Farrendel still didn’t meet her gaze, despite her hand cradling his cheek. “You did not know what danger you would face when you married me.”

“I don’t think anyone knows what they are getting into when they get married, even if they’ve known their soon-to-be spouse for longer than a few days.” Essie traced the pad of her thumb over the scar on his face. “No, I didn’t realize that simply marrying you would put a target on me the way it has. But I knew enough. I was not entirely blind to what it would mean to marry the infamous elf warrior Laesornysh.”

Farrendel flinched when she said the title he’d earned, the one that meant Death on the Wind. “Because I am Laesornysh and because of my magic, we will never be safe. There will always be those who wish to see me dead, and they will target you to get to me.” He paused for a moment, his gaze finally lifting to meet hers. “They will target our children.”

That brought her up short. What could she say? It was one thing to bravely dismiss the danger to herself. She had knowingly, if a little naively, signed up for it when she married Farrendel.

But any children they might have would be born into the danger with no say on their part. If she and Farrendel had children, they would do so knowing that they would be targets. Both because of Farrendel and his magic, but also because of the magic they would inherit from him.

“I know.” It was all she could say at that moment. She was too sore, tasting too much of the fear of the past twenty-four hours, to make life-changing decisions right now.

“It…we…” Farrendel pulled away from her hand. His mouth worked the way it did when he had too many words jumbled inside his head, unable to order them into speech. “I need to…I should tell you. Rheva found…when she…you…”

Essie’s stomach lurched. What had Rheva found when she helped heal Essie? Was it serious?

But she couldn’t panic now. She had to calm Farrendel down first.

She cradled his face with both hands, forcing him to look at her. “Deep breaths.”

He sucked in several deep breaths, his tension easing.

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