As to why the monastery had collapsed, Evander could only guess it was due to Winchester’s magic or the convergence collapsing once the Codex fragment it existed to protect was torn away.
One thing still puzzled him though. And that was how theDas Blutbuchhad ended up in the very monastery where the First Archmage had hidden the main body of the Crimson Codex. Laurenz Helnwein had expressed genuine shock when Evander had asked him the question before leaving Vienna.
Was it truly just a coincidence?
Rufus interrupted his uneasy musing.
“We’ll reach Munich by nightfall,” the inspector reported, returning from a conversation with the conductor. “From there, the night train to Brussels.”
“We need to stop in Paris before we cross the Channel,” Evander said quietly. “I need to speak with Leon.”
Viggo stirred a little but he said nothing. The tension that had once existed between the two men had mellowed over the course of their investigation, though Evander suspected it would never disappear entirely.
Solomon sat holding Ginny’s hand opposite them, their proximity something that would have raised eyebrows in London society. Whatever had developed between them during their time abroad, it seemed to have solidified into something neither was willing to hide any longer.
Shaw dozed in her corner, her splinted arm cradled against her chest. Even in sleep, the forensic mage’s brow was furrowed, as if puzzling over some particularly vexing piece of evidence.
Fairbridge sat next to the window, ostensibly reading a German newspaper but his eyes lifted frequently to gaze outside. The spy had said little since the monastery. Whatever report he would deliver to General Hartwick and the Queen, Evander suspected it would be rather different from the one the Ministry of Arcane Affairs had originally hoped for.
What remained of the Codex rested in a warded case underneath Evander’s seat, its presence a constant thrum against his magical senses. He hadn’t attempted to read it yet. Half of him feared what he might find within those ancient pages. The other half wondered what the text might reveal about the change inside him.
For now, he let the rhythm of the train lull him into a state of quiet contemplation, Viggo’s shoulder warm against his own.
Brussels materialisedfrom the winter mist a few days later, its familiar spires and grand façades a welcome sight despite the dismal weather.
Princess Eloïse met them at a private residence Inspector Willems had arranged on the outskirts of the city, away from prying eyes and the complications of royal protocol. She wore asimple day dress rather than court finery, her brown hair tied in a loose bun at her nape.
Rufus and the others waited with Willems in the dining room while Evander escorted Lina to the parlour.
The princess went utterly still when her friend walked into the room behind him. Her face, usually so carefully controlled, crumpled with emotion—sorrow, regret, joy.
Then she was moving, rising from her chair and crossing the room in swift strides that spoke nothing of royal dignity and everything of desperate hope.
“Lina,” she breathed, opening her arms.
Lina met her halfway.
The two women embraced fiercely, clinging to each other as if afraid the other might vanish. Eloïse cried, tears streaming down her cheeks without shame. Lina’s shoulders shook with silent sobs.
Evander looked away, aware he was intruding on something intensely private.
Eloïse’s gaze found him over Lina’s shoulder. The gratitude in her eyes was so profound it humbled him.
“Duke Ravenwood.” Her voice was thick with tears but steady. “I don’t know how to thank you. For bringing her back. For stopping those monsters. For everything.”
“No thanks are necessary, Your Highness,” Evander said quietly. “I’m only glad we found Miss Velghe in time.”
Eloïse shook her head. “You risked everything. You and your team. Inspector Willems told me what happened at the monastery.” She straightened, some of her usual composure returning even as she kept one arm firmly around Lina’s waist. “Please, stay. Rest and refresh yourselves before continuing your journey. It’s the least I can offer.”
Evander accepted, partly out of politeness and partly because he and his team were still worn out. He found himself alone withEloïse briefly that evening after dinner, when the others had retired and Lina had finally succumbed to the exhaustion she’d been fighting.
“She’ll need time,” he said carefully. “What she endured—it leaves marks that don’t show on the surface.”
Eloïse nodded, her expression grave. “I know. I’ve arranged for the best healers, both physical and mental. Whatever she needs, she’ll have.”
“Good.”
A silence stretched between them.
