The scrolls she’d ordered manifested on the altar. She moved to get them, but Colin held up a hand. “Make yourself comfortable. You’re the only one who can read these things. The least I can do is carry them over to the table.”
Nothing about this situation was comfortable for Leena, but she took a seat at one of the large library tables. Colin gathered the scrolls carefully in his arms and brought them to her. She chose one and scanned the contents but struggled to concentrate on the words.
What was she looking for again? Graves. Which graves were constructed within the years relevant to their search? She shuffled the scrolls in front of her and found the one she was looking for, unrolling it on the desk.
“I have the list of graves. Unfortunately, the notes say there was a plague that year. Firesickness. Curable now, but it killed hundreds then. The library found over five hundred crypts registered within the years we’ve time-boxed.”
“Goddess, this is hopeless.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair.
She’d always known it was a long shot. “I’ll keep rereading the history. I might find a clue in the other writings about Medea and Tavyss. There are several perspectives here. Maybe with context, we can narrow it down. Otherwise, we wait for the three sisters.”
“And hope they return before the first shots are fired.”
“Anyway, you should go. I can do this alone. You can’t read Elvish, so…”
He didn’t go anywhere. She stared at him. He stared back.
“Do you think the reason you wanted to experiment with me was because you were orphaned as a child and never had an adulthood outside the temple?”
She tipped her head back and groaned. “Not this again.”
“I’m curious.” Colin pulled up a chair across the desk from her and sat down. “And considering I’m the one you experimented with, I think you owe me an explanation.”
Maybe he was right about that. She had used him. Even if he was willing, she’d taken what she needed and given him little back. Only, her family history was a secret she would have liked to keep buried forever. She still didn’t understand why her Quanling had shared that she’d been orphaned. She must have realized that Colin would be curious, that she’d feel pressured to tell the rest of the story.
She didn’t want to talk about this. She never wanted to think about it. But it crossed her mind that this might be a lifeline from the goddess herself. If she told Colin the truth about her past, he might understand why she wasn’t a suitable mate. If she could push him away, he’d be so much easier to resist. Telling the truth might make it simpler for both of them.
Leena frowned. “Marjory told you I was orphaned at nine and that’s why I came to the temple. That is only partially true. Strictly speaking, I’m not an orphan at all. My mother is still alive.”
“Then why were you left here?”
“The year I was nine, my mother was pregnant with my little brother.” Leena shifted, hating this story. It was best to get it out. Get it over with. “The animus competition I told you about was the last significant time I spent with my father. The day after, my mother went into labor. The midwife was called, but there was something wrong. Something was wrong with the baby.”
Leena swallowed, the library melting away, replaced by a memory of hiding in the room that used to be hers and listening to her mother scream. Her heart thudded in her ears. “My brother died in the womb, and the midwife had to use magic to help my mother expel his body. But the pain and anguish, it drove my mother mad. There’s a rare condition among my kind, a mental break that occurs in some women who experience this. Her body and her mind could not handle my brother’s loss.”
It was so quiet in the library she could hear her breath flow from her lungs. Colin held deathly still on the other side of the desk, his face impassive.
“My father and the midwife tried to comfort her, tried to give her herbs to help her recover, but the midwife had made a fatal mistake. She’d left one of her tools, a special blade she’d used to help extract the infant, and my mother took hold of it.”
“I wasn’t in the room. I didn’t see what happened next. All I knew was that the midwife ran into my room, her clothes soaked in blood, and swept me from the house. I tried to protest, but when archers were called, I knew whatever had happened was serious. Later I learned that my mother had stabbed and killed my father and then turned the knife on herself.”
She watched Colin carefully, waiting for any reaction. She expected shock. She didn’t want his pity. Any normal person would want to distance themselves from her and her awful past. But his face remained expressionless and attentive. Damn it. She’d have to tell him the rest.
“The midwife kept me at her house for a few days, and then the authorities brought me here. I was led to believe both my parents had died. From that day on, I grew up here in the temple. I’ve been happy here. I feel loved.”
“Marjory is a true mother to you, then.” He studied her, nothing but kindness and empathy in his expression.
“She is. But when I was sixteen, she told me that before I took my oath to become a scribe, it was important I know all the facts. She wanted me to be sure. I couldn’t devote myself fully to the goddess until I knew the entire truth about who I was and how I’d come to be here. Because even though I thought the temple was my only choice, it wasn’t. I could have left if I wanted to.”
“Where could you have gone?” Colin asked. There was a note of disbelief in his voice.
“There’s a place just outside Asfolk that we call the Borough. It spans a city block and is constructed of simple dwellings financed by the high lord to support elves who can’t support themselves. I am told that the people who end up there are often elderly, ill, or are physically or mentally unfit.” Elves lived a few hundred years, short lives compared to dragons. Leena wondered how much she should explain. “I suppose dragons do not have such a place, being immortal as you are.”
Colin scratched the side of his jaw. “But we do. Immortal we may be, and physical deficiencies are extremely rare among our kind, but we are not immune to mental problems. Dragons tend to be obsessive about things, some to the point of becoming destructive. We have homes and caregivers that specialize in the condition. A few witches who live permanently in Paragon have had success healing their minds.”
She nodded. “Then you do understand that the people in the Borough have terrible personal problems, some that they were born with, some that they bring upon themselves. As it turns out, my mother did not die from her injuries as my father did.”
Confusion muddled Colin’s expression. “What happened to her?”
