His sitting room is empty. I check his bedroom and find it just as empty, the bed made and everything in its place. I look in the bathroom and even open the closet, but he’s nowhere to be found.
I leave his chambers and begin searching the palace properly. The library is my first stop, because he often works there late into the evening, hunched over papers and ledgers. When I push open the heavy doors, the room is dark and empty.
I ask every servant I pass if they’ve seen him, but the answer is always the same: they haven’t seen Lord Aurellion since this morning.
Then I remember how angry he was when he found out I’d visited his mother. Maybe he went to confront her about it. I turn toward the north wing and walk quickly through the corridors, my footsteps echoing off the stone walls.
When I reach Lady Helena’s door, I knock and wait. A moment later, the door opens, and she stands there looking at me. I can tell immediately that something is wrong.
Her hands are moving constantly, rubbing together and flying up to touch her face, then smoothing down her dress. Her eyes are too bright, and her breathing is uneven.
“I’m so sorry to disturb you so late,” I say. “I’m looking for Altair. I thought he might be here with you.”
“No,” she says, shaking her head. “No, he’s not here.”
I study her face, taking in the jittery movements and the way she can’t quite meet my eyes.
“Is everything all right?”
“Everything is fine,” she says, but her voice is strained. “You shouldn’t worry about me.”
She looks at me, and her expression shifts into something I can’t quite read. She seems resolved. Determined.
“I know what I have to do,” she says. “What I should have done a long time ago.”
Before I can ask what she means, she places her hands on my shoulders and pushes me gently but firmly out into the hallway.
“It’s late,” she says. “I need to gather my thoughts. Goodnight, Tressa.”
The door closes in my face, and I’m left standing there, more distressed than before. I walk back toward the south wing, my mind spinning with worry about Altair, and confusion about his mother’s strange behavior.
I’m halfway back when I remember the old servant’s room. Hope surges through me, and I start running. When I reach the door, I push it open and step inside, calling his name.
The room is empty.
I take in the space that once held my family’s life. The two beds are still here, plain and narrow, and the room is clean but barren. There’s nothing left of my parents, no trace of Brandon, and no belongings or personal items that would remind me of the time we lived here.
I should feel something, but I don’t. There’s no space in my mind to worry about myself, when I’m too worried about what Altair might do.
I run back to his chambers, thinking that maybe I missed something, or he came back while I was gone. I can’t sleep anyway, so if he’s not there, I’ll wait for him.
This time, I search more thoroughly. There might be clues. I check behind the curtains and pull open drawers.
I move to the bookshelf that takes up most of one wall and start reading the titles on the spines, running my fingers over the leather bindings. That’s when I hear it.
A grunt, muffled and low, coming from behind the wall.
I freeze and press my ear against the bookshelf. Another grunt, followed by a sharp noise I can’t identify.
My heart starts pounding. I pull at books, testing them, trying to find the mechanism that will open the concealed door. After several minutes of searching, I find the right one. Something clicks, and the entire bookshelf begins to move, swinging outward on hidden hinges. Beyond, I see a cramped room lit by flickering candlelight.
Altair kneels on the floor in the center of the room, shirtless and bleeding. His wings are spread away from his back, and his head is bowed low. He is holding a leather whip.
As I watch in horror, he raises the whip over his shoulder and brings it down hard across his back. The sharp crack of leather on flesh fills the small space.
There’s a mirror and a table covered in candles. Among the candles are scattered toys, small wooden figures and carved animals that I recognize from childhood, from the days when Altair and Brandon played together. In the center of it all hangs a painting of Brandon and me as children.
This is a shrine.
