It was getting too emotional and vulnerable for me as well.
So I smiled into the parchment and let Dax focus on his. The day dragged on. By the time the sky began to shimmer with the violet hue of night, my back hurt from sitting and shifting so much.
I was used to being on my feet, marching from place to place, not hunched over a table.
This little retreat into numbers and archives did nothing for my soul.
“Got it!” Dax announced suddenly, making me flinch. His quill glided faster. “I knew I remembered seeing Uncle Maksim’s name here.”
“It would’ve been ridiculous not to. The man doesn’t survive on air and sun–and he loves his sweets.”
“Just in time, too.” His tone reached an enthusiasm level I’d yet to hear since he’d come here. Had he doubted his own memory that much? “The truth serum reserves arelow. And with no pyrrot coming in, we would’ve been in quite a bind.”
“We still haven’t found whatever my father wanted us to discover.”
Me.
What he’d wanted and askedmeto find.
I wondered if everyone could smell the disappointment that clung to me or if it was just my imagination.
Don’t doubt yourself, Ryker’s voice whispered in my ear, making me squirm in my seat.
Damn even the figment of him for knowing the right thing to say and making me wish he was still here, like a naive girl who couldn’t stand to be parted from her first crush.
But there was an edge to each of my thoughts that floated toward him, like the idea of him had burrowed deeper than normal in my mind. Deeper than should have been possible.
“There you go.” Dax handed me the parchment with the pride of someone who loved being right. I couldn’t fault him; I was sure I was equally as obnoxious when I was proven right.
I whistled as my eyes raced on the page. “We spent this much on missions?”
“These entries are from two years ago. Uncle Maksim pared it back recently since…you know.”
My brows rose. “Know what?”
Dax shrugged. “You didn’t get as many death threats from the Borderline Bands.”
“You’re right.” The top of the parchment flopped over in my loosened grip. “I haven’t even gotten so much as a poisoned-laced letter lately.”
My chest tightened. That was no coincidence.
“Why did they suddenly stop?” I asked.
It was a relief not to be reading about my impaled head every other month, but it had been a long tradition. One that hadn’t scared me–the Borderline Bands refused to join any Clan, were devoid of any power, scraped by with mercenary raids, and seldom left their secret compound in the Defector Lands.
Every Clan heir got threats from them periodically. It was almost a rite of passage.
I wondered if Ryker had been on their morbid roster. He must have.
But I couldn’t ask because hewasn’t here. My heart gave another foolish, lonely echo.
“I have it on good authority they left the Morgana Clan alone, too.” Dax shrugged. “We heard some whispers the Bands had a power struggle in their ranks around that time, but nobodyin their right mind would have entered the Defector Lands to check.”
“It would’ve been good to know why they fought,” I mumbled, eyes still glued to the page.
“Since nobody bothered with wanting you dead, we relaxed the protective measures for Clara when she was off to the Academy and for Dara whenever she went to learn runes from some other eunuch,” Dax went on. “Which they were both very happy about.”
“Two years…” I muttered and snatched the other papers from today. “Are you remembering all these entries in order?”
