Page 34 of Elf Prince

Illyna sent him a look that all but ordered him to leave. “Farrendel, unless you need anything, you might wish to step out and come back in an hour or so.”

For a moment, he hesitated. Should he leave Essie alone with Illyna? It was not like Illyna would hurt Essie. But she was bound to low-key interrogate her, given the chance.

But Essie willingly fell into step with Illyna, her gaze already focused on the rows upon rows of jars.

She would be fine. And Farrendel would not mind a few minutes to himself to work through everything that had happened over the past few days.

Farrendel quietly slipped out of the door to Illyna’s shop and drew in a deep breath in the silence that closed around him. That silence was welcome, and yet he strangely missed Essie’s chatter at the same time.

Iyrinder waited at the bottom of the stairs to Illyna’s shop, leaning against the tree’s broad trunk and not even trying to hide the fact that he was waiting for Farrendel. Farther down the path, Fingol and his wife, two of Farrendel’s friends, were loitering near one of the shops, also waiting.

Farrendel suppressed a sigh as he strode down the stairs and halted in front of Iyrinder. “You can tell my brother that I do not need a babysitter.”

Iyrinder’s mouth quirked in the hint of a smile. “I already did, in a very respectful and tactful manner, but there is not much I can say when I am given an order by my king.”

True. While Farrendel had the luxury of talking back to Weylind about his hovering, Iyrinder did not. “What will you tell him when you make your report?”

Iyrinder’s smile curved wider. “I will tell him that Prince Farrendel and his human princess seem to be happy together, and that Princess Elspeth has been genuinely kind to all the elves she has met.”

Farrendel relaxed and shook his head. “He will not believe you.”

“He cannot blame me if he does not like what I have to report.” Iyrinder shrugged.

There was a reason Farrendel liked working with him, even if he ultimately answered to Weylind.

Farrendel glanced toward Fingol and Fydella, who had edged closer while he had been talking with Iyrinder. Like Illyna, they would be curious about Essie.

Turning back to Iyrinder, Farrendel gestured toward Illyna’s shop. “Could you please guard Princess Elspeth while I am gone?”

After all, if Iyrinder was here, then Farrendel might as well make use of him. Turn the annoyance into an asset.

As if knowing exactly what Farrendel was thinking, Iyrinder gave another wry smile. “I have technically been ordered to keep an eye on Princess Elspeth. I would be derelict in my duties if I did otherwise.”

Good. Iyrinder would keep Essie safe, even if he had not come right out and said it. That itchy feeling had gone away, but Farrendel could not afford to let his guard down completely. There were enough people in Estyra who did not like humans and might take the opportunity to hurt Essie if given the chance.

With Iyrinder guarding Essie, Farrendel was free to stroll down the street.

While Fydella hung back, Fingol strode to meet him, limping only a little on the leg he had permanently injured in battle. He raised his eyebrows as he studied Farrendel. “You seem happier than you were at your wedding.”

Farrendel ducked his head, struggling to put into words what exactly had changed between the time he had married Essie to now.

They had talked. She had not flinched away from his scars, but instead had talked several times about making this marriage into something real and lasting and good.

If he was going to make this marriage real, then Farrendel needed advice. He was not about to ask Weylind. Weylind was too grumpy about this whole arranged marriage thing. Machasheni Leyleira had already given her advice, cryptic as it had been.

But Farrendel needed practical advice, and Fingol happened to be the only married friend he had.

“How…” Farrendel could not meet Fingol’s gaze and instead gazed at the sky, the branches overhead, the grass covering the ground. “How do you actually go about falling in love?”

Fingol made a choking cough. “Pardon?”

Farrendel opened and shut his mouth, his head buzzing. He had to somehow spit out the words from the jumble in his head. He waved from Fingol to Fydella and back. “You are married. You fell in love. How did you do it?”

Shaking his head, Fingol shifted, not looking at Farrendel. “Can you not ask your brother?”

For a moment, all Farrendel could do was gesture wordlessly. What could he say? While Fingol was a friend, Farrendel still could not disparage Weylind. Finally, Farrendel shook his head. “No, I cannot.”

“I…see.” Fingol sighed, lines creasing his face as if he was facing a battle rather than a mere conversation.

---