The cleric sighed, the sound almost lost in the whisper of her robe as they continued to walk. “I think I selfishly hoped you might be able to give me some insight into Ferrin’s final days. But that was insensitive of me.”
Despite Lisbeth’s words, Amryn could sense the woman’s burn of curiosity. But it was the pain that wafted from her, old and deep, that made Amryn say, “I’m sorry. They didn’t tell me anything. I still don’t know why we left home.”
“Of course. You were so young.” Lisbeth glanced away, her profile firming. “Sometimes we hope for things that are not meant to be.”
They rounded another bend, and Amryn realized they’d traveled in a circle; they were back in the small courtyard with the reflective pool.
“I think I was wrong,” Lisbeth said suddenly. Her steps slowed as she met Amryn’s gaze. “I assumed because you looked like your mother, there was nothing of Ferrin in you. But after speaking with you, I see a semblance of my oldest friend.”
The woman might have viewed that as a compliment, but Amryn certainly didn’t.
Luckily, Lisbeth didn’t wait for a response. She touched Amryn’s arm, bringing them both to a halt.
It took a great deal of self-control not to pull away.
“I’m glad we could finally talk,” Lisbeth said. “I wish I hadn’t waited so long to approach you. I suppose I needed some time to gather my thoughts. I loved your father like a brother, and I have mourned his fate all this time.” Her lips pursed as she studied Amryn. “I know you are not a believer. But my faith is what sustains me, even in times of loss and heartache. There is much we can never understand, but the All-Seeing Divinities know the hearts and souls of everyone. In the end, their judgment is all that truly matters. Doing right in their eyes is more important than anything we might do for the regard of mortal men.” Her lips curved into asmile, though it looked wrong when her gaze was so intense. “I hope one day you can know the comfort of such belief, Amryn.”
The fervent words, and the zeal with which Lisbeth had spoken them, lifted the hairs on the back of her neck.
Even when the cleric walked away, a chill remained with Amryn. As if with a single touch, some of the ice that lived in Lisbeth had lodged inside Amryn.
Amryn was still reeling as she made her way back to her suite, her two guards trailing behind her. While she didn’t exactly trust Lisbeth—or any cleric—she’d felt the truth in the woman’s story. Lisbeth’s emotions had been too raw to be faked. Besides, what reason did she have to lie?
What she’d shared had fundamentally shifted Amryn’s perception of her parents, and it had only opened the door to more questions.
She wanted to talk to Rix. Her uncle was coming to Zagrev, since the emperor had summoned him, but a trip of that distance took weeks. There was no telling when he’d arrive. But she longed to talk to him about all of this. Even if he didn’t know everything that had happened between Aileen and Ferrin, he had to knowsomething. Like why they’d left the castle, and where they were going. Or why her parents might have been fighting.
Her mind jumped to Tiras. She wondered what he remembered. He was five years older than her, so his memories of that time would be more reliable. And of course, he knew where their father was now.
Her stomach twisted. She’d told Carver that she wanted to face her father. To demand answers. While that certainly hadn’t changed, she honestly didn’t know if she was brave enough to face the man who had thrown her away.
If only she could better recall that time in her life. If she could remember everything she’d seen and heard as a child, so she could examine them through the lens of adulthood . . .
Ysabel. The empath could see the past with a touch. Could her gift be targeted enough to isolate the memories of when Amryn’s family had fallen apart?
The idea was as thrilling as it was unnerving. She trusted Ysabel enough to ask her about Von’s journal, but to open the door to her rawest wounds? She didn’tknow if she was ready for that, even if it could give her some insights into her own past. Regardless, she wouldn’t ask tonight. She didn’t want to bombard Ysabel with questions, especially if her gift was like Amryn’s and it took a toll to use.
Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t realize Bram was one of the guards at her door until she was standing before him.
Her heart jolted. She hadn’t seen Bram in weeks, not since before the Rising’s attack on Market Square. And even though she’d known he would make contact after the Chosen’s tour of the palace—that Keats would ensure Bram was placed on her room’s guard rotation, so he could easily reach her—she didn’t feel prepared to face him. Bram might not have been at the square, or had anything to do with the attack, but he was a rebel. Looking at him now, all she could see were the dead bodies around her. The rebel who had tried to kill her. The rebel that had nearly killed Carver.
Bram’s familiar eyes were sharp as he took her in. She felt his swell of concern when he spied the yellowed bruises on her face, just as she sensed the tension knotting inside him. It only increased the pressure in her own chest.
Amryn murmured thanks to the two bodyguards who had escorted her as Bram moved to unlock the door.
Before she could step inside, Bram said, “Let me check the room for you, my lady.”
Amryn inclined her head, her spine stiff.
The other guard stayed to keep watch in the corridor while Bram and Amryn stepped into the room. The moment the door closed behind them, Bram took hold of her arm and tugged her to the far side of the room, his worry mounting with every step.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t reach you sooner. I know you were in Market Square during the Rising’s demonstration, and—”
“Demonstration?” she hissed, yanking her arm free. She was so upset, she was shaking. The bloodstone let out a low vibration, underscoring her anger. “Thatdemonstrationwas a massacre.”
Bram had the decency to feel a flash of remorse. Uneasiness cut through him as well, along with a thread of regret. “I swear to you, I didn’t know what they were planning.”
“If you’d known, would you have tried to stop it?”
