But why? What would doing so accomplish for her? How much does she know?Castien pinched the bridge of his nose. His head throbbed.
“Regardless, we need to keep an eye on her,” Castien said wearily. “She cannot get any closer than she is now.”
“Have you considered simply telling her everything?” Finn suggested. “Tell her that her brother was in the Order and we are hunting his killer down too.”
Castien looked across the desk at Finn. His expression was genuine.
“She doesn’t trust anyone,” Castien told him, recalling Wren’s admission in her letter. “She is unlikely to believe me. I can’t tell her about the Order and risk her exposing all of us.”
Finn nodded. “Understood. Then we will remain close enough to watch her and far enough that she doesn’t learn anything more.” His gaze gleamed in the lamplight. “I’m certain that won’t be too hard for you.”
“Finn,” Castien warned.
His cousin held up his palms. “Don’t be angry with me. It is your own doing. I have heard that your butler stops by Wren’s chambers quite often these days. All I will say is you should be careful of appearances, cousin; they can have dangerous consequences.”
Castien clenched his jaw. Finn was right, and Castien hated it. He had become too forward with Wren. The thought of pulling back felt like cutting off a limb. Even his Gift seemed to rebel at the thought, writing reasons to continue their letters in the air. Castien blinked them away.
“I will be careful. Thank you for the warning,” Castien said tightly.
Finn pushed up out of the chair. “I will continue to gather what information I can. Let me know any other ways I can be of service.”
Castien dipped his chin in acknowledgement, turning his attention to his desk, though he wasn’t really reading the papers in front of him. He was thinking of Wren, wondering how shemight be feeling after the night before. Castien hadn’t shown up to breakfast, so he had no way of knowing for himself.
“I’ll see you in dueling class, correct?” Finn asked as he stood with the door open.
“Yes, you will.”
“I may ask Bernadair to procure a suit of armor for me. The longer this investigation continues, the more violent you become.”
“Given your propensity to toy with my last nerve, I think it would be wise of you,” Castien said in a dry tone.
Finn chuckled as he shut the door behind him. Alone once more, Castien scrubbed his face with his hands. He would see Wren again soon, in dueling class. Would she pretend she hadn’t written her soul upon another page for him? He hoped she would. Finn said heheardthat Heathford was visiting Wren’s chambers. That meant word was spreading. Wren’s very presence elicited attention, and Castien’s position was no different. The two of them did not need more eyes watching them.
Since the idea of parting with their letter exchanges physically pained him, Castien would craft a new way of contacting her. A method that no one but them would know about. Another secret, but this time one they would share.
Wren walked onto the training grounds feeling ill-prepared to use a sword. She was weak from fighting off demons all night. Her eyes fell shut several times during poetry class. She slept through lunch, and didn’t feel up to eating more than a piece of buttered bread before heading to her dueling class. Blossom was concerned, but Wren didn’t have the energy to assuage her.
“There you are,” Kierana said as Wren approached. Kierana stood next to Cyprus, who gave Wren a shy smile as she approached. “You missed breakfast and lunch. I was beginning to worry.”
Wren mustered up a smile. “I did not sleep well.”
“I can tell,” Kierana didn’t mince words. Cyprus scowled at her in disapproval, but Wren simply laughed under her breath.
“Perhaps a bit of sparring will enliven your spirits.” Cyprus gave Wren an encouraging look.
“Unlikely, considering my distaste for weaponry,” Wren replied.
Cyprus’s surprise reverberated through Wren, while a stab of apprehension came from Kierana, who was likely reliving the night she brought up this topic.
“Good afternoon, students,” Ivanhild bellowed from the center of the field.
Wren turned her attention to the professor, as did the majority of the other students in the field. On the other side of Ivanhild stood Finn and Castien, with Percilean close by, scribbling in a book. Finn grinned at Wren, while Castien did not so much as nod to her. The words she poured into her letter came back to haunt her. She worried that she’d said too much, but there was no way to take it back.
“Today we will be going over your stance. It is important in swordfighting to have a strong, but not stiff, stance. Three of the best students will aid me in critiquing you.” Ivanhild surveyed the field. “Kierana, Cyprus, Castien. Come forward.”
Castien walked to the center of the field, chin held high. The fog was not so thick today, but the sky still cast everything and everyone in shades of grey. Castien was no exception. He looked statuesque with his black uniform, inky curls, and dark eyes. There was a hardness to his expression that made him look more warrior than student.
Kierana and Cyprus walked side by side to join Ivanhild and Castien. Ivanhild instructed the three of them in tones too low for Wren to make out.
