Ellowyn
My boots padded silently over the cobbled courtyard at the back of the manor. It’d been over two years since I’d stepped foot in what was once my homeland, and the time away seemed to have taken a toll both on the manor in Katiska and my own soul.
I was not the person who left this place, yet my chest constricted painfully as memories swam like ghosts, recreating both the most beautiful and most painful moments of my upbringing. Now, though, even the pleasant memories were tainted by the knowledge that my father never truly cared aboutme, only what I could offer him in terms of power and influence.
I felt no regret in leaving him and my mother to rot in the dungeons beneath the Academy. Cruel? Perhaps. But no less than either of them deserved.
I was not a pawn to be used for others’ whims and personal gain.
I was a queen, a wife, a goddess.
Torin showed me that.
Iproved my own worth.
So I moved through the outskirts of the manor with a detached curiosity, noting the dilapidated walls and overgrown flowers without feeling anything toward them. It was no longer my home—Torin held that responsibility now—and I viewed it as simply another house.
One that I happened to know intimately.
I crossed the courtyard quickly, keeping my face and hair tucked beneath a brown hooded cloak lest a servant recognize me. That would derail our plans completely and was not something I could afford.
With deft movements, I quickly called upon my Destruction Magic to eat away at a portion of the vines crawling along the stucco and stones of the manor’s exterior. It was as easy as breathing, my magic responding to every minute thought and gesture without breaking a sweat.
My power receded into my veins, exposing a small section of wall and a tiny square fissure.
I depressed the small square, reveling in my triumph as a hidden door popped open with a dullclunk. Debris and dust fell from the opening, crackling against the ground as remnant vines snapped and dangled loosely.
Clearly, this hidden entrance hadn’t been used in quite some time. Funny, because it was the only pathway I used to visit the lavender fields out back.
Perhaps Dria hated them—or simply didn’t know this existed.
Snickering at the idea that the house kept secrets from its newest occupant, I slipped inside after checking my surroundings to assure myself I wasn’t being followed. Satisfied, I closed the door with a dullthunk, encasing myself in the darkness of the servant’s passageways that lined the interior of the home.
It took a minute for my eyes to adjust and to gather my bearings, but I quickly ascended the narrow wooden staircase, taking care to keep my steps light despite my speed. My feet moved with an assuredness that only came from countless years of taking this very passageway. This—not the manor to my right—was where I always felt most at home, in the shadows and belly of the beast.
I laughed quietly. How could I not see it before, that I didn’t truly belong here? That my mother’s hatred was not normal?
What a fool I was . . . or maybe just a girl who so desperately wanted to be loved by the people who claimed to be blood.
On I climbed, making my way toward the highest floor, where I was certain Dria kept her room. If I could corner her there, without any prying eyes, then our conversation could be quick and perfunctory. All I needed was to scare her a bit; flex my powers as the Goddess of . . . well, many different things, and ensure that she kept Hestin’s borders closed to any incoming force.
I came upon a split in the hallway, the staircase leveling off to a small wooden platform. To my right were the bedrooms for the ruling family, while the left held servants’ corridors. I turned right, but movement to my left caught my attention.
Frowning, I paused to listen and caught a streak of familiar brown hair. Whoever it was moved just as silently as I did, belaying their years of experience sneaking from place to place.
Servants—at least when I called Hestin home—whistled and clunked through the walls, always announcing their presence before they appeared in one room or another. I needed to continue onward, but something in my gut told me to follow the flash ofbrown hair.
“Really, Fate? Now?” I grumbled quietly, cracking my knuckles and neck in frustration before giving in to the pull and making my way down the left hallway.
There was a faint scent here, almost like the incense that burned in the Temple of Fate, and it only grew stronger the further I walked. I strained my ears, desperately searching for even a hint of sound that would indicate where the mysterious person disappeared.
A softclickfrom up ahead had me grinning in wicked victory, and I turned just in time to see a door shut.
I approached cautiously, making sure to keep my steps and movements silent, and pressed myself against the wall adjacent, listening for any movement inside.
After a moment, I frowned. The lack of any noise at all indicated that an Air Ward was in effect inside the room, and my hackles suddenly rose.
What is Dria hiding?
