I took another bite and nodded, pointing to the shortbread cookies. “Once I settle down, this is the first thing I’d like you to teach me.”
Angeline relaxed back in her chair and smiled, seeming happy to grant me the time to fulfill duties she knew were more pressing than my lack of cooking skills.
Chapter 10
Elsedora
In three days, it would bethat day.
Part of me wondered if Krait only had agreed to let Lark summer here so that I wouldn’t be alone, which I’d insisted on the past few anniversaries of the date.
He understood the loss of a Source Match well. With Sybilla, he was finally so happy; I wouldn’t reopen those wounds.
Lark had taken off for the stables early, to groom a dull-gray pony that she’d lovingly named Sparklesdespite there being nothing sparkling about the creature’s demeanor. I’d rescued the animal from an auction in Belray and, as a birthday present, surprised my niece when she’d arrived. When I was a girl, my brother had gifted me a pony. We’d gotten into a good deal of trouble together, Spots and me.
I threw seeds out for the songbirds from a bench overlooking the sun-soaked ever-plum orchard at the Lamoreaux Estate. The twittering little things pecked at the ground and fought one another for the best kernels.
After every treacherous mission that resulted in no trace of Isolde’s last relic, I found peace in retreating here.
I’d been spending less time in Sahlmsara, as Hurley had taken over more responsibility under Krait’s mentorship.
They didn’t need me in Luz either.
Instead, I served as an advisor in Helos, where tensions remained with the lords. My constant presence reinforced trust in the interim leadership of Sybilla and Krait. The people of the North Corridor found me more relatable—someone who resided among them, who had grown up here.
Most days, I traveled to the North’s capital to spend a couple of hours settling disputes before venturing elsewhere. Thankfully, the Egress within the hallway of a thousand doors still functioned.
The grand hall had once housed those fleeing from Phynx’s cruelty against Source-wielders. Hundreds of families could Egress in and find a place for a safe night’s rest. It used to be warded behind a stone wall—a secret my family guarded during the Great Wars.
During renovations, I’d broken down the wall and replaced it with a door for easier access and travel. Construction to reinforce the original structure of Lamoreaux had gone well, and now only cosmetic details remained. Revived to its former glory, the sprawling manor had become a home again. The turreted roofs held no leaks, and ivy crept up the brick, already overgrown.
A crash sounded near the south wall of the estate. The birds flapped away haphazardly.So much for a peaceful morning.
Someone yelled, “I told you not to set that there, boy!”
Today, workers painted the trim. I rushed to see what the commotion was about.
“Stupid boy, you’ve gone and got paint on the new brick.”
I rounded the corner to find Garish, the old grump who managed the renovations, dressing down a young worker. It seemed someone had painted more than the trim. A bucket had fallen, and a splash of white paint poured down the brick wall.
I smirked. “Garish, give the poor lad a break. You’ve all been working yourselves to the bone. Nothing a wire brush can’t fix.”
“Lady Lamoreaux,” Garish said, and they both straightened. It took everything within me not to wince at the title.
Iwasthe noblewoman of the estate.
My mother had been “Lady Lamoreaux,” though.
The young man who’d spilled the paint couldn’t be much older than Lark—fifteen maybe.
“Start scrubbing,” Garish barked as he flung a wire brush in the teenager’s direction. The boy caught it and ran a hand through his dark brown curls, leaving a streak of white paint there with a sigh.
“We’ll have this cleaned right up,” Garish said and marched away toward where other workers had begun to raise an arched garden trellis. He yelled, scolding them, “Wrong direction, other way!”
I thought it looked lovely, regardless.
“What’s your name, kid?” I asked, hands on my hips.
