Durvla stands absolutely still, her defenses up. Briefly, her lips part, then close tightly again.
I exhale. “I’ve heard that over the years, the rules have gotten stricter, but…” I walk toward the velvet loungers beside the round table at the center and sit on the arm, crossing my legs.
Durvla inches closer.
“When I was a child, my mother regularly read to me from theErleyan Book of Folklore and Fairytales. We kept it a bit of a silly tradition as I grew older. It’s still my favorite book, but also it’s—like you said—tales for children. Nothing I’d consider treasonous. There’s a difference between that and, say, a book of spells.”
Durvla fiddles with her sleeve cuff for a moment before finally speaking up. “Is magic prohibited in Mainland as well? In the Grounds, we don’t believe that magic even exists anymore, yet… People are still apprehended on the accusation. Does magic exist here?”
I laugh. “It depends on what you mean by magic. There are no raids in Mainland, but if anyone is suspected of magical practices, they face the same disciplinary action as Grounders. As for the existence of magic, as far as I’ve been told, the Purge wiped out all the magical bloodlines a millennium ago. Some people believe that talismans and amulets can still channel the magic that exists”—I wave my hand around in random patterns—“in the universe, I suppose. Theoretically, scrolls, spell books, amulets with distinctive gems, and other things can, for example, allow a lowborn or lesser noble to gain wealth or higher status. Maybe even overthrow the crown. At least, that’s the reasoning behind the law.”
“But Mages don’t exist here, right?” Durvla asks carefully.
“Only in fairytales.” I shrug. “Unfortunately,” I add with a teasing smirk. I’d love to have the mind reading or divination of a Mage, or any elemental wielding powers.
Durvla barely blinks. I can tell she wants to say something more, but she bites her lip instead.
“The point is: your little fairytale book isn’t unlawful.”
“You’d think not,” she mumbles.
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve seen villagers dragged out of their homes because they owned some meaningless object. A milkmaid in my village had her mother taken away because she owned a book similar to mine. She couldn’t evenreadit.”
That doesn’t make sense. “A book offairytales?”
Durvla nods.
“Perhaps you’re mistaken. It must’ve been a spell book.”
“It was a book about heroes and mythological creatures. Not a spell in sight. Similar to the one back in my home. My mother used to read me the tale of the Heirs of Agryna all the time. It’s my favorite.”
My heart stutters. “The Heirs of Agryna?” I echo.
“Yes, it’s about?—”
“I know what it’s about. It’s my favorite as well.”
We stare at each other, the swell of surprise and curiosity palpable. This woman is aGrounder; she’s dirt poor, has lived a humble life, endured raids… and she cherishes the same book that I do. For Rhianu’s sake, she has the samefavorite taleas I do. Meanwhile, her people are being apprehended and hanged for owning a book with children’s stories? My mother can’t possibly be aware of this. I hop off the arm of the lounger and smooth out my dress, unsure of what else to say on this subject.
I should get to the bottom of this issue. I should go right to Iywan.
Later.
“I brought you here because Ellynne says you seemed excited about it. So…” I walk toward the shelf and pull out a couple of my other favorite books, trying not to think of what Durvla shared with me. I bring the books back to Durvla and hold them out to her. “For when you’re not dressmaking. It can be terribly boring around here. I know that idle time can coax out idle thoughts. And those can be dangerous.” So bloody dangerous.
Taking the books, Durvla smiles and thanks me.
Maybe she isn’t so daft after all. Just nervous, like Tiernan suggested, or perhaps just coy. I can work with that.
Iywan is just closing the door to his study as Callum and I arrive. He turns and flinches as he sees us. “Princess,” he says with a bow. “Sorry, I did not see you there. Do you require my attention?”
“Yes, actually. I have a few questions.”
His lips pinch tight for a moment, and he nods before opening the door and stepping aside to let me in. The scent of burning wood, wax, parchment, and ink fills the chamber. I don’t bother to sit as Iywan steps inside and closes the door behind him.
“Are Grounders being arrested for owning fairytales?”
