But we had none.
Not yet, at least.
My gaze lingered on his name on the page. Alaric “Alar” Vegheara, good leader, good husband, good father. I wondered if he would have become great if he’d been allowed more time.
Who’d embodied some of the best Protectorate ideals, down to saving as much gold as he could. Who bought one good pair of shoes every decade and argued when he had to change–
My eyes narrowed on the parchment, which detailed summer expenses. There it was, a pair of leather shoes for Alar Vegheara,bought from the oldest shoemaking family in Aquila, who always bent the sole at the perfect angle for each foot.
Apair.
My stomach dropped as a roar blared in my ears. The bedroom and Dax turned hazy in the sudden whirlwind of my thoughts.
I jumped to my feet, breathing heavily, and started to toss papers and journals aside.
I’d seen it.
I knew I had.
“What?” Dax asked. “What did you find?”
I couldn’t answer, my hands shaking. I moved through the parchments so fast, one of them dared cut my finger. It didn’t matter. These numbers were already bloody.
“Tell me.” Dax rose as well. “I can help you find it.”
He’d already had.
My frantic gaze snagged on my father’s name once more. I snatched the parchment, eyes flying over it.
There it was.
Another pair of shoes.
“You said–” I licked my lips, heart thundering. “You said these expenses are from the past five years.”
“Yes?” he asked, still confused.
“And in order.”
“Same order I read them in.”
I slapped the two pieces of parchment onto the table. Shoes, on both. The same ones.
“What exactly am I looking at?” Dax raised his brows. “Other than Uncle Alaric having great taste in footwear.”
“A lie.”
No other expenses matched.
Nobody else would have noticed this, except my father–and his daughter.
My fingers trembled as I glided over both numbers, as if I could hold onto those memories for a while longer.
“My father didn’t buy one of these,” I whispered, trembling. Maybe neither. “He always changed his favorite pair of shoes once a decade. Same model, made by the same hands.”
Dax hesitated. “If one of them got damaged.”
“No,” I said, voice not leaving room for argument. “I knew my father. This is false.”
