He shrugged, flipping through several other pages. There were stars on many of the other trees, always more than three or four generations up.
“Are the names of any of the current guests in here?” she asked. “See if you can find Nero’s.”
Ronin expelled a tiny huff at the Beastrunner’s name as he searched the back of the ledger. “Here.” Similar to Larissa’s, Nero’s chart went up several generations, but there were no stars. Though there was a question mark next to one. They studied several more entries, finding them similar to Nero’s, with question marks instead of stars.
Frustrated, Mireille returned to the shelves. Perhaps there was some kind of legend or index that would reveal the meaning of those stars and question marks.
“Mireille.” Ronin’s voice was thick with dread. “Come back and look at this.”
His pale face froze the blood in her veins and her limbs grew heavy. Crossing to the desk felt like walking through syrup.
She glimpsed the final entry in Otto’s ledger, and her mouth went dry, her throat closing.
Her own family tree.
Though only one side of the page was filled, four generations tracing up from her mother’s name.
The space where her father’s name should have been was empty, save for a question mark.
“What does that mean?” She could barely get the words out.
“Have you…” Ronin hesitated, as if he didn’t want to dredge up her pain. “Have you ever felt stirrings of elemental magic? Like what we saw Mattias demonstrate?”
“Never,” she choked out as Ronin gripped her shoulder, the gesture calming her, slowing the rapid pounding in her chest.
As she examined the names on her mother’s side, she realized she’d never heard a single one. Vivienne had never shared any of them. It rankled thatOtto, of all people, had more information about her own family than she did. And when had he collected this information? It must have been before she’d even arrived at the estate. Before she’d told him all those lies at dinner. The names on the tree were Valois, not Valette. Dread trailed icy fingers down her spine.
“Valois,” Ronin whispered. “Is that your real last name?”
She nodded. “My mother’s. I changed it before I came to Kheimos. But kept the first three letters the same, just in case he…”
She pushed the fear down, tucked it alongside that long-buried grief that had been prodded far too often by this assignment.
Had her father wielded elemental magic? She supposed that could be the reason her mother had fled from him and her pack, not wanting her and her daughter to be hunted down by the Empire because of it.
Her father’s words from that night floated into her mind.
…needs to understand who she is…
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, searching through herself for any hint of hidden magic. Nothing called back.
“Are you alright?” Ronin asked.
She smoothed over her expression, burying her pain and confusion and readjusting her armor. “Yes. Just put it away and let’s keep looking.”
They searched through every drawer, every box, every hidden corner of Otto’s office but found no signs of any relics of the Fallen Goddess, nor even the box with the glowing anastasium stone containing the diva’s soul.
Ronin flopped into a chair. “This is pointless. I don’t think we’re going to find anything else. We should leave before someone finds us in here.”
“You sure you don’t want to spend a few more hours reading through an encyclopedia on the history of Ethyrios?”
“That sounds more likeyouridea of a good time.”
She smirked at him. “I’d ask what yours is, but I think I can guess.”
A low whistle trilled from outside the door and Ronin shot her a panicked look.
But there was no one except the servant in the hallway when Mireille whipped open the door.
