She made an amused expression that couldn’t quite mask her underlying concern. “He risks himself all the time, as if he has something to prove.”
My brows arched. “Does he? Does Reagan have something to prove in his sentence, like a trial?”
She squinted, her body stilling. The reaction didn’t escape my notice.
“The whole thing is about him proving he’s worthy, as you know.”
“Yes, but does he have to face ordeals for that? Something that actually helps him break...the sentence? Could it be that what he’s doing right now?”
Gwinifer’s expression remained unchanged, though there was a flicker of something I couldn’t read.
“I only know that he has to complete the actual sentence to end it.”
Neither a confirmation nor a denial. Maybe she truly didn’t know, or perhaps she just wasn’t willing to tell me. Another secret. Either way, I sighed. None of it would matter if Reagan died fighting the Wraiths he was hunting.
I wanted to think about what his death might mean for me, but the thought of him dying—it numbed my body. Death by having a creature drain all his life, likely transforming him into one of them. Like his parents. My chest tightened at the thought, and I tried to breathe through it.
He’d taken down a group of Strzygas, though a much smaller one, and I had helped, if only by distracting one of them for a moment. The more I considered the danger, the faster my heart raced.
He was brave to go alone. Or maybe just reckless. Arrogant, even when he could have taken a group of battle mages with him.
I sounded as concerned as the staff, as if I cared the same, as if he were a friend. But no, I wouldn’t wish death on anyone, least of all someone who had gone out of their way to protect me. Judge’s order or not. But his family—
My eyes drifted to Gwin. She was skimming through the same book again, clearly restless.
“What were you doing in the human lands that day when I met you on the train?”
“Meeting someone,” Gwinifer replied briskly, her attention fixed on the page.
“A human?”
“They are the ones living in that part, yes,” she quipped, throwing me a wry glance. “Good guess.”
Satisfaction stirred within me at the faint lightness that slipped into her tone.
“Can I ask you something personal?”
Her eyes lifted to meet mine, one brow raised. “Go ahead.”
“Finn mentioned that Reagan’s parents adopted you. Do you know what happened to your parents?”
“My parents?” she repeated, surprised. “They’re dead. They died when I was young, and a battle mage heard about a child with unusual behaviour at a human orphanage and brought me to Elinor. She found my parents’ names and their obituary papers. She also discovered that I’m hybrid-born.”
I blinked. “Really? How do you suppose your parents met, if their ancestors haven’t lived in the same lands for a long time? Or are you just from a hybrid lineage?”
“I never knew, but you’d be surprised how often this rule has been broken in the past.”
I hummed, realising I had leaned further over the table, her story pulling both of us away from other thoughts. “So, who were you visiting?”
She inhaled quietly, resting against the back of her chair, her onyx hair cascading over her shoulders. “Someone I rescued on a mission. A human who was taken against her will and forced to serve some sick bastards.”
“Serve how?” I asked, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
Gwinifer’s mouth curved into a sneer. “In any way they wanted. Fetching their glasses, cleaning the mud from their shoes, cooking their meals, and...In the worst ways.” Her voice was cold with disgust and rage. “A servant with no rights, treated as less than a person.”
I fought back the grimace creeping onto my face. “How did you find her?”
“We heard a rumour about a human in a dwelling just outside a town. They tried to pass her off as mageborn to keep theirservant, but I saw through it,” she said, a wicked grin darkening her face. “And I made sure they regretted it. Erica did too. She made them pay for keeping her for almost two years.”
