Theo followed her through the manor. The servants were active and moving with exuberant energy. He didn’t want to think about why, but his brother’s Conjugation was in a few weeks, and his stepmother would no doubt begin pestering him about escorts.
The dark-green curtains were pulled back, casting rays of light through the halls and the paintings lining them. The vaulted ceilings always were a breath of fresh air, keeping the space from feeling as if it were pressing in on him. But today was different.
Theo had spent hours replaying the events with Amaris but had come to no natural conclusion. He’d even pondered Isabel’s words,aslorn per de eclahard,but he hadn’t had the energy to take a walk to the library and scour the shelves for an answer. He knew Pricilla, one of the librarians, would help aid in his search for the phrase, but he hadn’t wished to bother her last night.
Upon his return, Pricilla had handed him a list of books she’d made while he’d been away. Before he’d left, they’d shared their favorite titles with one another, recommending their latest reads. She had interesting tastes, but she’d never failed to pique Theo’s interests.
They rounded the next corner, and he felt the ceiling shrink as they grew closer to his father’s study. He wished for a moment to breathe, to hide in one of the alcoves or find a space to retreat in the library. Hedidn’t want to think about the threat looming over Duncaster or the new nightmare plaguing his mind from last night.
The God of Death’s talons scratched along the edge of his mind, whispering judgment in his ear. He’d been there. Kedes’s claws had wrapped around his soul, digging out all he’d done.
Theo released a hot breath as Gris stopped at the door. She turned to look over her shoulder, and her hazel eyes shone back at him. He couldn’t tell what she meant to convey in that single glance, whether it was a plea or simply an apology for what they were about to endure.
When they entered his father’s study, Bennet was already seated before his father in a heated discussion, and Gerard had taken up a space beside a bookcase with a gold clock set into the wood. Gris slid to the back corner, crossing her arms and legs as she leaned into the wood paneling.
Theo approached his father, who gave him a disdainful look as he settled in the seat beside Bennet. Brushing his hands through his hair, he attempted to look somewhat presentable, but he knew his father tracked every wrinkle.
A small bouquet of snowdrops with drooping white pedals sat upon the desk and seemed far more interesting to Theo than his father’s glare. A beautiful flower able to be grown even under the coldest of conditions. Theo had once picked snowdrops every week with his mother to set them in that very vase.
Theo remembered a particular time when the crisp bite of Whitereign was settling upon Luana and, with it, the foreshadowing of a disastrous Darkreign with heavy snowstorms.
Do you know why we plant snowdrops?his mother had asked him. Theo, only a child at the time, had grinned as she wrapped him in his cloak and slid mittens over his small hands.Because Father loves them.
He’d beamed with a half-toothy smile. He’d lost a tooth the night prior, after sneaking a piece of hard sweets from Ms. Borstad in the kitchen.
His mother had laughed and flourished her radiant smile at him,throwing her own cloak over her shoulders. She’d kneeled beside Theo and placed her hands against his rosy cheeks.Your father only loves them because I do. I want you to remember, Theo, when you find that special someone, remember every single detail about her. Write down her favorite flower, the way she takes her tea, the crinkle of her features when she laughs.
That’s a lot to remember, Mama.
Yes, it is, but it will show her you care. His mother had stood and braced her newly showing pregnant belly as she took his hand and led him into the cold.
“Not only are tenants disappearing,” Bennet said, pulling Theo back into the stifling heat of his father’s study, “but we came upon Lord Freville on our travels back. He was murdered.”
Theo’s muscles stiffened. Hearing it again was all too real. He expected to come home from the war and spend the next few years training to take Bennet’s place, not dealing with the beginnings of another fight.
“She was standing over the body and everything,” Gerard said, smirking from his spot against the bookcase.
Theo couldn’t understand how Gerard managed to wiggle his way into Bennet’s graces. More superior men would’ve made a fine second. Theo wasn’t sure how he became a lieutenant either.
His father leaned back in his chair, running his hands along the edge of his graying beard. Rings of purple sat above his sun-spotted cheeks, making his mismatched eyes more menacing. His eyes used to both be the dark brown his left one was, but an unfortunate scar marred the right side of his face, taking with it the vision and color of his right eye.
“Where is this supposed murderer?” his father asked.
“In the dungeons. We attempted brief questioning, but the woman was spouting lies and nonsense,” Bennet answered.
Theo felt his father’s gaze fall to him, and when Theo raised his head, he narrowed his dark eye at him.
“What did you discover?”
“She’s adamant she didn’t murder Lord Freville, and I don’t know if she possessed the strength to—”
“Of course she does,” Bennet interrupted. “Randolf, this woman is a lying wench who played into her dramatics. She was covered in Freville’s blood with no other explanation for the scene we found.”
“We are sure she’s the murderer?” his father asked.
“No,” Gris interrupted, pulling herself from the wall before Theo got a chance to speak.
Theo whipped his head in her direction as she strode to Bennet’s other side. Bennet gripped the edge of the chair, his nails digging into the armrests. Crinkles set in above his father’s brows at Gris’s disrespect for the chain of command, but Theo bit his tongue.
