Page 83 of Pretense

“Elspetha has never mentioned that.”

“She doesn’t know. She was hustled off, and then she stayed with Paige and her family. Paige’s father was the general overseeing the castle guard at the time.” Edmund tugged back the collar of his shirt and dusted the powder on his neck. “That’s how Paige and Essie became such good friends.”

Jalissa stretched, trying to keep herself awake. “How many secrets have you kept from Essie?”

He gave a wry chuckle as he dusted the back of his neck. “Too many, probably. She would have been much more prepared for her life in Tarenhiel if Averett and I had told her a few of the secrets we knew. But she was only five when our father died. I guess that made us a little overprotective of her. She’s our baby sister. Don’t tell me you’ve never kept secrets from Farrendel for the same reason.”

It was almost as if Edmund knew she had kept secrets from her family.

But it was true. Her family worked hard to protect Farrendel. He was their little brother. The tiny baby who had come into their lives so suddenly and yet had become the glue that held them together through all their tragedies.

Edmund leaned closer to the mirror again, cutting off most of him from her view. He continued speaking, as if taking her silence for her answer. “Still, that incident brought me to the attention of the Intelligence Office. They initially started training me for work inside the palace, protecting Averett. But I had a gift for languages and by the time I was nineteen, I was fluent in elvish. Tensions were escalating, and so few humans could speak elvish the way I could. The Intelligence Office was desperate enough that they agreed to let me spy in Tarenhiel.”

Her chest tightened. Why was it so hard to picture Edmund as her kingdom’s enemy, even now? “I can imagine that your brother was not in favor of that.”

“No, he wasn’t.” Edmund reached over and picked up a long, blond wig. Its color sent a twinge through her, though Jalissa was not sure why. Edmund fitted the wig onto his head, the strands flowing down his back. “But kings have to be willing to sacrifice a great deal for their kingdoms, even their own brothers.”

Jalissa understood that, even if she did not like it. Weylind had made that same tough decision over and over again, sending Farrendel into battle to save Tarenhiel.

She took a deep breath and asked a question that she was not sure he would answer. Nor was she sure that she wanted the answer. “Did you ever learn anything that hurt Tarenhiel?”

Edmund paused, then leaned on the tabletop, his shoulders hunched. “Yes. I knew enough to put together this assassination plan. I learned the locations of your family’s rooms and your normal patterns of movement. I kept Averett apprised on your ongoing war with Kostaria. I gave Averett the information he needed to pressure your brother into that first diplomatic meeting.”

Had she expected anything less? This was Edmund. Of course he had been an excellent spy.

“It…” She swallowed. “It is a good thing Tarenhiel and Escarland never went to war again.”

“Yes.” Beneath his fake hair and elven tunic, Edmund’s shoulders shuddered. “I knew I was protecting my kingdom. I didn’t want my brother to be killed in war the way my father was. But there was always this constant ache, knowing that the information I learned would harm those I had come to know in Tarenhiel. I came to love Tarenhiel, and it was my hope every day that, by spying, I could prevent a war and protect those on both sides of the border. I was a little surprised when the result was Essie’s marriage. I can’t say I’m too sad about that, even if I was horrified back then.”

“I think we were all a little horrified at first.” Jalissa smiled, thinking about that first moment when Farrendel introduced Elspetha to the family. “Except for Farrendel and Elspetha. And Machasheni Leyleira. She had a lot more confidence in them than the rest of us did.”

“Yes.” Edmund stood with his hands still braced against the tabletop. He paused for a moment, drawing in a deep breath. “Jalissa…I wasn’t just a spy in Tarenhiel. I worked my way into Estyra. Into Ellonahshinel itself.”

She froze, now wide awake. Something about the tone of his voice sent chills down her spine and squeezed her chest.

“Of all the things that I did while spying, what I regret most is hurting you.” His shoulders were so tense the tunic stretched taut over his shoulder blades. With his head down and the door partially blocking him from view, she could not see his face.

“What do you mean?” Her mouth had gone dry, her fingers numb. He sounded like he was talking about something specific, not just hurting her because he had hurt her kingdom.

Slowly, he straightened, though his shoulders remained the slightest bit hunched. Something about him changed in an indefinable way. His movements, his posture, the way he held his arms and his head.

He turned and faced her, his eyes down. His cheekbones appeared higher, his cheeks thinner, his skin tone silver. When he spoke, his voice was softer and slightly higher pitched as he spoke a greeting in elvish. “Elontiri, Jalissa Amirah.”

No. It was not possible. Jalissa shot to her feet, pressing her hands over her mouth.

Elidyr Ruven stood before her. Everything about him was so achingly familiar, from the way he held himself, his eyes downcast, to that gentle, soft-spoken voice.

If she had not seen Edmund transform himself before her eyes, she would have said a completely different person stood before her.

“No. No. He died. You died.” Jalissa squeezed her eyes shut, her legs going so weak that she had to grip the chair she had been sitting on to keep herself standing. This did not make sense. It was some kind of cruel joke. Had Edmund seen Elidyr and dressed like him to take his place? There was no way Edmund was Elidyr. “His eyes were green. I know his eyes were green. Yours are blue.”

“My eyes are a muddy green-blue.” Edmund still spoke in elvish—in Elidyr’s voice. “I can change how they look by what color clothes I wear. If I wear green, my eyes look green. If I wear blue, black, or gray, my eyes look blue.”

“A handy trait for a spy.” Jalissa spat the words, her whole body shaking as she gripped the chair’s back with white knuckles.

“It is.” He peeked up at her in that hesitant way Elidyr used to. “Besides, it was always dark in the library. You rarely got a good look at my eyes or my face. I was only nineteen at the time. I had an easier time passing for an elf back then.”

Jalissa flinched, staring down at her shaking hands clutching the chair.

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