Carversteppedoutofthe jeweler’s shop wholly satisfied. Though the errand had taken longer than anticipated, the jeweler had been thrilled to create such a unique piece. They’d talked through many options, and Carver had looked at different settings, styles and gems before settling on a design he thought Amryn would like. While the gift served a practical purpose, he wanted her to enjoy wearing it. The jeweler assured him the commissioned piece could be completed in a couple of weeks, if he prioritized it above all his other projects. Carver paid him handsomely to do just that.
When he reached Piera Denvoux’s shop, he wasn’t surprised to find Amryn and the others had already left. He turned toward Market Square, knowing that’s where Elowen would have pulled them all.
“Carver!”
He pivoted, fighting back a curse as he spied Rhone Quinn in the crowd. The man was dressed in the customary red uniform that marked him a knight of the Order. The garish color made him stand out.
“Rhone,” he greeted with curt politeness.
“What brings you into the city?” Rhone asked as he came to a stop before him.
“Just some errands. You?”
“The same.” Rhone offered a smile. “It’s rare I have time to myself, but when I do, I like to visit old collection shops. It’s a particular hobby of mine to searchfor forgotten treasures. You never know what might be hiding, just waiting for discovery.”
He couldn’t picture Rhone rummaging around dusty shops of antiques, but then again, Carver had a hard time imagining him being anything other than a knight. When Carver had met Rivard so many years ago, his older brother had already been fully knighted.
“Have you come alone?” Rhone asked.
Carver nearly saidyes, but it didn’t seem worth it. He didn’t want to be caught in a lie, no matter how seemingly innocent. “No. My wife, sister, and Ford are here. Ivan Baranov as well. I had a separate errand to run, but they’re expecting me.” It was a subtle cue that he didn’t want to linger.
“Ah.” Rhone’s unwavering smile remained in place. “I don’t wish to keep you from them. Perhaps I can walk with you?”
It was the last thing Carver wanted. Even if the bloodstone shielded Amryn from detection, he didn’t want her anywhere near Rhone. But there was no polite way around it. He nodded, and they began making their way toward the nearby square.
“I’m relieved you and Amryn are both all right after the attack in your room,” Rhone said. “Have you made any progress figuring out who hired the assassins?”
“No.” The frustration he felt made the word come out hard. Carver had been interviewing everyone Trevill had named, as well as the people the emperor had shared Jayveh’s letter with. The list Hector had given him was longer than he liked. Thankfully, his father and Morelli had both stepped in to help whenever their duties allowed.
“I’m sorry,” Rhone said. “Let me know if I can assist in any way.” When Carver merely inclined his head, the knight changed the subject. “I heard Berron is at the palace, but I haven’t seen him yet. How is he?”
Carver thought of his brother’s dark gaze. His biting sarcasm. The constant pain Amryn said he was in. “He’s been better. But he’s also been worse.”
“Sonneis a curse.” Rhone shook his dark head. “I saw horrible changes in my brother as well. It’s difficult to witness.”
Carver didn’t reply. There wasn’t really a need. Especially when the truth hung over them: Rhone’s brother was the one who had first givensonnetohisbrother.
Rhone sighed. “I know this is a difficult topic for us, but I want you to know I understand your position, because I lived it with Rivard. It’s difficult watching your younger brother struggle. If you ever need someone to talk to about your frustrations, I’m here.”
As if he would ever confide in the knight. Still, he murmured,“Thank you.”
The crowd thickened as they drew closer to the square. Carver was trying to think of a polite way to disentangle himself from the knight when Rhone said, “I’m curious about something.”
Carver glanced at the man beside him. “What?”
Rhone sidestepped a mother gripping the hands of two small children. The mother paled when she spotted Rhone’s red uniform. She quickly tugged her children a different way.
She wasn’t the only one who shied away from Rhone. Knights might be a rare sight, but everyone in Craethen knew what that uniform meant. Truthfully, if Carver was in his uniform he’d probably garner the same reaction.
People had an innate aversion to dangerous men.
Rhone clasped his hands behind his back, seemingly untroubled by the reactions of those around him. “Now that you’ve had more time to consider your time in Esperance, I was curious if you’ve recalled anything that might be helpful in our hunt for the empath.”
Carver should have expected the question, since Rhone had asked Amryn the same thing only yesterday. Still, muscles in his back tensed as he said, “Nothing that comes to mind.”
“A pity. Sometimes, clarity comes with time and distance. When I asked Prince Samuel the other day, he confided a new detail.” He shrugged, the motion almost nonchalant. “I thought I’d ask, just in case.”
Carver kept his eyes trained ahead. He probably shouldn’t ask. It risked showing interest. But he’d already demonstrated curiosity during his interview with the knight, so . . . “What did Samuel recall?” he asked, trying to keep his tone casual.
