Page 5 of Pretense

But if he could extend his magic so that he could fight alongside others? It would make both him and the entire elven army that much more powerful.

He just had to master wielding that much magic with finesse, not just brute force.

Weylind was still giving him a stern look, waiting and not backing down.

Farrendel pulled back his magic so that he only flooded the forest immediately around their tree. He drew his magic up and, after a pause to make sure he was entirely in control, Farrendel let his magic flow up and over Weylind.

Weylind drew his sword again and lunged into a sword strike at the air, then flipped forward.

Farrendel kept his magic wrapped around Weylind, following his movements.

Ryfon’s grin grew, as if he was not afraid in the least that his uncle would accidentally incinerate his father.

After a few more flips, Weylind landed in a crouch.

Farrendel let his magic finally dissipate.

Ryfon let out a cheer, pumping his fist in a way that was almost human in its exuberance. Even Weylind grinned as he sheathed his sword.

A year ago, Farrendel had been so withdrawn from his family. He had been so empty that he had nothing to give. But in his hollowness, he had not realized what he had been missing.

He was functioning again, and that meant he had his family back and they had him back. And he was going to try to never take that for granted.

Chapter Two

Jalissa, princess of the elves, hurried around a curving end of one of the bookshelves in Ellonahshinel’s library, hoping to disappear into her favorite corner before anyone noticed where she had gone. She needed some peace and solace with her favorite book to relieve the endless worry while both of her brothers were gone fighting at the border.

As she darted into another aisle, she nearly smacked into a male elf, dressed in the plain, light green tunic and trousers of a servant. She skidded to a halt, the book falling from her hands.

He knelt, picking up the book she had dropped. For a moment, he stilled, as if reading the cover.

Jalissa stiffened, catching her breath. It was not a good look for an elven princess to be caught reading about the Kingsley Gardens in the Escarlish capital city of Aldon at a time when Tarenhiel was nearly at war with Escarland.

But, after a moment, the servant held the book out to her, his shoulders hunched and his eyes down. “My apologies, amirah.”

“No, the fault is mine.” Jalissa did not recognize the elf before her. His long blond hair was darker and more golden than her brother Farrendel’s while he stood only an inch or two taller than Jalissa. She could not see the color of his eyes with the way he was subserviently staring at the floor.

“Amirah.” The servant bowed one more time to her before he hurried away.

Jalissa sipped her blueberry fruit punch as she watched the graceful dancing couples whirl past. The great hall of the treetop palace of Ellonahshinel glowed with golden lights tucked into the twining branches arching over the room. New spring leaves sparkled in the glittering lights, though the nobility of the court outshone it all, dressed in flowing dresses and silken tunics and trousers.

Across the room, Farrendel spun Essie through the steps of the dance, somehow keeping his back to the wall in the corner as he did so. Essie was beaming, her long red hair falling down her back. The strands gleamed against the deep, emerald green of her dress, which had a bodice that was cut in the tight and structured human style, yet paired with a flowing, elven-style skirt. It looked stunning on her, and judging by the way Farrendel could not seem to look away, he had noticed.

Farrendel was even smiling, and Jalissa could not remember the last time she had seen Farrendel smile while attending a court event.

An ache stabbed deep into Jalissa’s chest. Yes, she was thankful to see her brother happy and in love. But right now, it reminded her how lonely her life had become.

She turned her gaze away from Farrendel and Essie to contemplate the dancing couples once again, quickly spotting the young male elves in the court. All winter, Jalissa had been dithering, not picking any of them to attempt a courtship.

She could not keep hesitating. She just needed to pick one. It did not matter which, as long as he was an elf and he was noble. If love was a choice, as her Machasheni Leyleira said, then surely Jalissa just had to pick someone and choose to fall in love with him, and that would be that.

Then why did she feel ready to throw up her punch at the thought of doing that?

It could not be because she had fallen in love with a certain human prince. They had only known each other a little over three weeks. They had been an intense three weeks, from the treaty negotiations in Escarland to Farrendel’s capture and the fight across Kostaria.

During those weeks, Jalissa had found herself leaning on Prince Edmund of Escarland. But surely it was nothing more than that. A bonding over a shared, traumatic experience that had brought their two families together.

Jalissa handed her glass of punch to a servant, her stomach roiling too much to take another sip. If the feelings she felt when around Prince Edmund were merely fleeting emotions, then why did her heart ache even five months later?

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