“Ashlin?” Aden asked, referring to the servant girl who had stolen his older brother’s heart. “Is she alright?”
“I hope so.” Onric’s voice had completely changed. He swallowed. “There were some... complications after you were attacked. I need to go find her and make sure she is safe.”
“Go.”
Onric’s footsteps shuffled toward the door. “Aden, we will figure this out. I promise.”
Aden nodded in response. He had nothing left to say.
“Oh.” Onric opened the door. “Just so you know, I did order the guards to kill you at the ball. That was before I knew it was you, of course.” He sprinted away, calling down the hallway as he ran, “Sorry about that!”
Aden growled in response, letting the rumble in his throat explode into a full roar.
He heard the clinking of armor again.
“It’s fine. He’s fine. Leave him be,” Onric yelled to the guards as he ran past them.
Aden eased himself back onto the bed, relaxing his tired head against his generous stack of pillows. Onric’s humor had eased his soul a little. They would figure this out.
Chapter 3
Isa knocked on the doorless entryway to the small study. Although she could fully see inside, she did not want to enter uninvited.
A head of gray hair bent over the single table in the room. Brother Elias had not heard her knock. Perhaps she had been too quiet. The gentle sound of a sonorous chant filled the air. The other monks were singing their prayers in some other room of the villa-turned-monastery.
Isa rapped on the side of the doorway again. The creamy brick might look warm and inviting, but it was definitely not kind on her knuckles. She cleared her throat.
The old man looked up from his parchments. His eyes found her, then crinkled into a smile. “Come in, child.”
Isa smiled in response and entered the room. Stacks of scrolls and parchments covered every available surface. A few hardbound books were stacked in a place of honor at the corner of the desk. She felt right at home in the chaos.
The owner of the study, however, looked a little out of place. His wrinkled skin was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, and his eyes seemed lost, as though he were not fully aware of the physical world around him.
“I see you have not taken up my suggestion for linen robes instead of wool?” she gently chided.
“I cannot conjure up an entirely new set of clothing for nine monks in a few days, my dear.”
“What if I conjured them up for you?”
He brushed away her offer with his hand. “You have already given us so much.”
“Were they not so generous in Iseldis?” Isa attempted to hide her kindness so the perspiring old monk would accept the much-needed gift. “This is the Allysian way. You will just have to get used to it.”
“Perhaps it is just the Bielsa way.” He smiled knowingly at her. “Your family has welcomed us here so graciously. How is your father?”
Isa kept the smile on her face, though there was no longer any sincerity behind it. “No change.”
For a moment, the uncomfortable weight of reality broke through the comforting walls of parchment around her. She had arrived home from Iseldis the previous evening and had spent the entire morning at her father’s bedside. His fever remained constant, and he rambled unconsciously. Her poor father was frequently ill, but he had never suffered this severely for an extended period of time. She shoved those thoughts aside and changed the topic of conversation. “How goes the sorting?”
“I never found the final scroll ofThe Queen of Silverreign,” the old man replied. His eyes roamed the room, rescanning each pile as though he might find the missing book from his chair.
“You have checked everything?” She could not hide her disappointment.
“Everything,” he confirmed. “It was all so rushed when we left; we had no time to properly transport the entire library. A collection of centuries, filled with countless treasures.” He sighed. “I am afraidThe Queen of Silverreignis not in this house at the moment and probably never made it to Allys at all.”
Isa sighed. “I was dearly looking forward to finishing the story.”
“If I remembered it, I would recount it. But I was younger than yourself the last time I read it.” He absently wiped the perspiration from his face with the corner of his billowing sleeve.
