Page 114

Areanel placed the parchment down on the desk and reached for the next object. The sound of Rymedur’s soft snores settled her nerves as her fingers gripped the small statue. It was difficult to tell in the darkness, but as Areanel’s thumb moved across the ridges and dips, she knew the small idol that sat in the palm of her hand like a weight dragging her down was an exact replica of the one she had knelt before on so many occasions. Why did Caius have a statue of Edre?

In all the years she had known him, he hadn’t been religious. Her brow furrowed as she raked through her memories of all the times they had spent together. Had he? And more importantly, why had he hidden the miniature statue in the false base of the drawer? Was it shame?

Shaking the thoughts clear, Areanel moved a strand of her damp raven hair behind her pointed ear. Placing the god Edre’s statue atop the parchment, Areanel continued her inspection. Every object caused her furrowed brow to deepen. Questions battled their way through her mind, eager to find rhyme or reason in what she discovered and why they had been hidden from view. A small, curved blade with a plain, dark hilt had curious runes messily carved into its handle. The length of a red ribbon unfurled, and as Areanel pulled it towards herself, it stretched taut. With a little tug, Areanel heard something slide against the false base before it landed in her outstretched palm.

Eyes widening, Areanel felt her heart race into a frightened gallop when she recognised her own handwriting scrawled across the first letter in the bundle, wrapped in red ribbon and attached at the centre…

Areanel froze. She swore her very heart stopped beating. Every fibre of her being halted in an icy chill as she stared at the way the dapple of moonlight glinted off the small green gems dotted around the simple band of two matching rings. That lead weighing her down grew into chains shackling her.

Caius had kept them, along with her letters. But why?

Bile quickly raced up her oesophagus, burning a path across her throat. Did he…? No!

The bundle of letters slipped from her fingers, and her breath stuttered when they landed on the desk with a light thud. The letters. The rings. They shouldn’t be here.

Guilt and shame snapped like pincers, sharp and relentless, at her conscience. Areanel couldn’t tear her gaze away from the all too familiar scrawl. These should have been burnt, tossed away—just as he had done with her. But he had kept them?

Whatever reason he had, Areanel wished she hadn’t seen them again.

Her guilt whispered in her mind, and Areanel’s gaze flickered to where Rymedur still lay asleep, blissfully unaware of her discovery. Good. He didn’t need to see these.

With shaking hands, Areanel hastily dropped the letters back in the drawer like they had seared her. Quickly sweeping the rest of the contents back as well, she shoved the false bottom closed, not wanting to see any of it anymore.

Slam! Areanel jolted at the sound of something clattering in the distance, sending her heart leaping into her throat. Head whirling, strands of raven hair stuck to the sweat rolling down her temple, as she turned towards Rymedur. Her heartbeat galloped, thinking he had woken, but there he lay, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm—still asleep.

Areanel’s breath steadied, easing at the sight. Another thud came from her left, and she realised the sound had come from beyond the bedroom. It must be Ryyen. But why had they returned so soon? Had they seen something amiss when they had been spying on her brothers and the rest of the caucus?

With one final glance at the drawer, Areanel turned away and tiptoed to the door, thoughts of past letters and rings pushed to the back of her mind. That was not what was important right now. She needed to focus on the other things she had found within that false bottom.

Did she really trust Caius? What was he hiding?

Perhaps Ryyen knew why Caius had hidden such documents. What were the blueprints for? Was her father planning something? And, if so, why had he not informed her?

The tank-like contraption was like nothing Areanel had seen before. It did not look Andrean-made, but like something that came from Cal Cathlar. Almost human, yet not entirely. Did this have something to do with the additional accords in the treaty?

Another thud had Areanel moving. Retrieving the shirt she had dropped by her feet, Areanel pulled it over her head before crossing the room, letting it fall past her hips. With a quiet snick, the door opened and closed behind her as she made her way to the main living area of the apartment. A frigid tingle travelled along her toes as her bare feet padded against the worn floorboards.

It was second nature, finding her way through the darkness, as though the path had been ingrained into her mind, even after all these years. Everything had been left the same. Areanel gravitated towards the open space by the mantel, finding it cluttered with knick-knacks, clothes, and well-read books left on every surface—even piled on the floor due to the overflowing shelves that encased the fireplace on the far wall. But that was not what caught Areanel’s eye. The streak of silver bathed in moonlight had Areanel’s steps faltering. She hadn’t expected to see him after his sudden disappearance three hours ago. Where had he been, and what had he been doing in that time?

Caius sat perched on the edge of the window, one leg straddling the windowsill and one hanging out of the open window as he nursed a glass of amber liquid. An empty bottle lay discarded at his feet. That must’ve been the thud she heard earlier.

He looked almost peaceful in the dark room, like he had always belonged there—solitary and moonlit. A winter breeze whooshed in, sending a shiver across her exposed skin. Puffs of smoke escaped his lips, travelling in her direction with every drag he took from the thin brown roll he pinched between his fingers. Areanel was not sure what it was, but a sweet, musky aroma emanated as another frigid gust of wind swirled in from the window and towards her.

The winter wind had Caius’s almost perfectly set hair blowing back and away from his face. She had not realised it before, but he looked so sombre.

Had he always looked like that?

‘Can’t sleep?’ A warm whisper broke the cold winter’s silence.

Areanel drew closer to the sweet, honeyed tone, yet some part of her couldn’t help but find it almost artificial. Purposeful. Like she was being drawn into a trap. The winter breeze brushed her skin again, and she curled her arms around herself as she took hesitant steps forward. Crossing the room felt like an eternity and a matter of seconds all at once. Not enough time, and yet too much. Slowly, she lowered herself onto the windowsill at his side. It creaked with her weight, yet Caius still did not look her way.

‘We’re sleeping a door away from Brutus and Vas.’ Areanel’s voice came out as a whisper, almost wary of breaking the quiet peace Caius seemed to have found for himself. ‘Would you be able to?’ She chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood. ‘They’re so damned loud.’

Areanel could almost hear her heart beating in the silence that followed. But then Caius spoke, tone solemn and restrained. ‘Sometimes, I can’t tell whether they’re fucking or fighting.’ Something almost like nostalgia burned in his gaze.

‘Knowing Vas,’ Areanel huffed in mock exasperation, ‘probably both.’

Low chuckles filled the empty space, and Areanel couldn’t help but notice how something that had been so normal in their past had become something so rare between them now. Where had it all gone wrong?