A sinking sensation struck her gut—a clairsentient nudge. She pried a hole in her shields, just enough to sense Danforth’s emotions, and found him lacking sincerity. He was…hiding something. She glanced from Danforth to Ulrich, then to Kevan. They wore smug expressions and writhed with greedy energy.
She could feel the truth then.Theywere continuing the hunt. They’d probably only issued warrants to lessen competition. Her mouth fell open, her tongue tingling with accusations…
But what could she possibly say? What could she accuse them of without confessing to her Art?
She’d have to wait and bring the subject to her brother alone. Not that he’d ever listened to her clairsentient warnings before. He may not have condemned her strange abilities the way Linette had, but he hadn’t understood them either.
Damn it. I’ll have to warn Valorre.
“Now, Highness,” Kevan said, tone mocking, “do you have any other pressing matters to bring to the table? Perhaps the welfare of dragons and pixies?”
A rumble of laughter echoed over the table. He could laugh at her expense all he wanted. She was about to see that jovial expression stripped clean off his face.
Sitting straighter, she locked her eyes with his. “I do, actually. I’d like to discuss the North Tower Library.”
19
Silence fell over the council table. Not all eyes turned to Cora, for only the men who’d already been at Ridine knew the significance of the North Tower Library. But the faces that had locked on hers were ashen.
Lord Kevan, on the other hand, grew flushed. He spoke through his teeth, each word clipped. “What about the library?”
She kept her tone neutral, her composure steady. “I’d like to oversee its…” She paused to consider the best word to complete her sentence, knowing she needed to tread carefully with this topic. “Renovations.”
Kevan scoffed. “There will be no renovations of the North Tower Library. The door has been locked and the stairwell leading to it will be guarded night and day.”
“How long?” Cora countered.
“I just stated night and day?—”
“Yes, but for how long? Forever? Shall guarding the stairwell become some grand tradition passed down through every ruler to come?”
With the hole still open in Cora’s shields, she could feel his growing discomfort. Not because the topic was related to his daughter’s death, but because he had no answer to give.
She arched a brow. “You haven’t thought it through, have you?”
Ulrich lifted a hand from his slouched position. “Is this stairwell the same that Lady Lurel took a tumble down?”
Cora flinched at his careless tone. Even she would have had more tact out of respect for Kevan’s emotions. She wondered how much love the brothers shared. Perhaps very little.
Kevan glanced across the table at Ulrich. “Yes, and I am determined to see that her fate goes unrepeated. Meanwhile, Her Highness wants to gallivant around hanging tapestries.”
“You mistake me, Lord Kevan,” Cora said. “When I said renovate, I did not mean redecorate. I meant that I want to dispose of every item in that room.”
Kevan had nothing to say to that. She slid her gaze to Dimetreus. He’d been quiet since she’d brought up unicorns and now the library. But when she met his eyes, he gave her a solemn nod.
Emboldened by his approval, she addressed the council. “What most of you don’t know is that the North Tower Library was once the duke’s private study. It is full of deadly items.”
“What kinds of items?” one of Ulrich’s men asked, tone skeptical. “Knives? Swords? A guillotine?” He grinned at the councilmen across the table but none shared his amusement.
“Grimoires,” Cora said. “Poisons. Traps. You may have decided to dissociate the duke from magic, but that won’t change the things he left in that room. We must get rid of them.”
Ulrich waved a flippant hand. “So we’ll haul everything out and burn it.”
“Not everything can be burned. Besides, some things are too dangerous to be touched by those unaware of the threats the objects pose.” She was tempted to tell the truth about Lurel’s death, but it wasn’t her place. Kevan was the girl’s father, and regardless of how much Cora despised him, he was grieving. She couldn’t bring herself to illustrate the gory truth if Kevan didn’t want it known. She’d let him stick to his tale about a tumble down the stairs if that’s what he needed. So long as it didn’t prevent her from doing what needed to be done, that is.
Kevan spoke, and this time his tone was tired. Empty. “Which is why I’ve decided to keep the room locked instead.”
“Which is admirable,” Cora confessed, “but not sustainable. The only way to make that room safe is to destroy everything inside it.”
