Dacha and Muka made their welcoming gestures, though Dacha’s brow had furrowed at the rather interesting monikers for Stickyfingers and Tiny.
A pang filled her heart. If only Pretty Face were here. But there still had been no word about him. He must have been captured by the Mongavarians.
If he was still alive.
She shook off the melancholy thoughts to focus on the flyboys and flygirl here. They’d gotten up early so that they could meet her parents before their standby shift started and before her parents’ train departed.
She glanced down the street again, but most of it was blocked with the large army truck waiting to take her parents to the train station. Where was Fieran? He said he’d be here for the farewells.
She turned back to where Muka had somehow gotten into a discussion of dwarven brews with the flyboys. Sticky’s eyes had gone wide while Lije’s mouth had dropped open as Muka described the mushroom and rock salt brew that was the traditional drink in Dalorbor.
Pip resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Would the flyboys turn to brewing once the sourdough craze faded? The army would probably have a thing or two to say about that.
An open-topped army truck rumbled down the street. Pip only gave it a passing glance as she moved out of the way. But when it parked behind the larger army truck, she looked again.
Fieran hopped out of the front passenger seat, grinning at her before he turned back to the vehicle. He said something to a person sitting on the other side, blocked from her view by the larger vehicle parked in front of it.
Then Prince Farrendel Laesornysh stepped around the front of the army truck, dressed in full elven armor and carrying his swords on his back.
Her chest seized. Fieran had brought his dacha—Prince Farrendel Laesornysh—to meet her parents. She opened her mouth. She should warn them. Tell everyone who was about to show up.
But nothing but a breathy squeak wheezed out of her.
Then Fieran was there, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders as he leaned closer. “I brought a surprise. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Nope.” She muttered the word too fast, her knees still locked.
Prince Farrendel halted next to Fieran and gave her a nod, not a twitch to his face to betray his thoughts. “Pippak.”
Fieran’s dacha had yet to call her by her nickname. Fieran assured her that his dacha liked her, but he was so hard to read that she couldn’t tell. He’d seemed to find her magic impressivethat one time she joined morning practice, but he hadn’t invited her and Fieran to dine with him in his quarters as her parents had Fieran.
Then again, Mongavaria had been attacking so constantly up until a few days ago that there hadn’t been time for dinners with parents.
What did it mean that Prince Farrendel was here? Meeting her parents? That was the gesture of someone who approved of the relationship, wasn’t it? But how was she to know?
Prince Farrendel faced her parents, giving a nod.
Pip was still so frozen that she couldn’t force herself to move. With a low chuckle, Fieran used his grip on her shoulders to turn her around just in time to catch the look on her parents’ faces as they registered the fact that Prince Farrendel was standing there.
Her dacha’s eyes widened before he bowed with the graceful flourish of the elves. “Amir, it is an honor.”
Muka pounded her fist over her heart before she bobbed her head in the dwarven gesture of respect for one of high standing.
Fieran kept his hands on Pip’s shoulders, rubbing his thumbs gently over the tops in that soothing gesture. She worked to unlock her knees and unglue her tongue from the top of her mouth, but her parents were going to be on their own for a bit.
To one side, the flyboys had eased back a step after they saluted, though they weren’t quite as in awe as Pip’s parents. Prince Farrendel was becoming a familiar enough face that it was more the respect for a general rather than abject terror.
Prince Farrendel glanced at Fieran, then back at Pip’s parents. “You run the western rail terminal.”
“Yes.” Pip’s dacha bobbed his head again, his voice stilted.
“The original trading hub there provided some of the first plans for a Tarenhieli rail system, did it not?” Prince Farrendelstepped forward, something in his voice smoothing the more he spoke.
Dacha’s mouth worked as he shared a look with Muka. Muka thumped her fist on her chest again. “Yes, we did. I’m surprised you’d remember such a thing.”
Prince Farrendel gave a slight, elven shrug. “I found trains fascinating. My dacha gave me the plans to read over.”
Pip saw it then. The resemblance to Tryndar in the look in Prince Farrendel’s eyes. Or, rather, Tryndar’s resemblance to him when he’d held that little metal aeroplane she’d made for him.
