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My breath caught in my throat, and my skin tingled. “Oh my gods. This is it. This belonged to Hans.”
“Who is Hans?”
“The portal engineer. He created our portal centuries ago, and his research was thought to be lost.” I waved the book, giving her a triumphant look. “This is it. Gorem’s been hiding it here in this locked room for who knows how long.”
“Is that enough evidence?” Her soft voice was full of hope.
My excitement ebbed. “No. Just because he has Hans’s notes doesn’t mean he was doing anything illegal, per se. He could easily talk himself out of an arrest, claiming he recently unearthed it from his family’s possessions.” I looked at Cerise. “Can you cast the spell again?”
She shook her head. “My magic sought out the one item that aligned with my intentions the most, and this was it.” Her lips puckered in a frown as she gazed around the room. “But there’s sure to be something damning in here, especially if he was keeping this place locked.”
Together, we started sifting through papers and drawers as silently as possible. A howl echoed from outside, and we both froze, eyes wide. But after a moment, silence fell, and we continued our search.
“I’ve been thinking,” Cerise said, her voice quiet as she rifled through a stack of documents on Gorem’s desk.
“About what?” I asked distractedly, scanning some notes about Gorem’s investments.
“I think you should tell everyone I’m a Wolven Mage.”
I stilled, alarm jolting through me as I looked up at her. “What?”
“Everyone is calling you an improper king because you’ve been working closely with a witch.” She grimaced, guilt shadowing her expression. “But if they knew you were helping a Mage, I think that would help your case. Wouldn’t it?”
I swallowed, my heart racing. “It would,” I admitted. “But Cerise, I don’t want to expose who you are unless you’re completely comfortable with it.”
She huffed a dry laugh. “I’m not sure if I’ll ever be comfortable with it. I haven’t fully processed it myself. But, Alaric, this is your crown we’re talking about. It’s far more important than my privacy. If this helps you, I want you to do it.”
I took a shaky breath, hope blooming in my chest. “Are—are you sure? Absolutely certain?”
She gave me a soft smile. “Yes. I don’t care what people think of me, but if it helps you, it’s worth it.”
Emotion filled my throat, and I found it difficult to swallow. “Thank you,” I said in a strained voice.
Her eyes crinkled, and she nodded once. We continued our search, but I couldn’t ignore the warmth that settled inside me from the certainty of Cerise’s words.
If it helps you, it’s worth it.
Gods, I did not deserve her.
I had just moved on to another stack of documents when Cerise hissed, “Look at this!”
I circled the tiny desk to where she was holding a charred scrap of paper.
“There’s no fireplace in here,” she said breathlessly. “Which means he intentionally burned this with his own candle.”
I squinted at the barely legible scrawl on the paper.
Dear Sparrow,
The portal cannot be disassembled with witch magic. You must—
The sentence was cut off, the edge of the note having been scorched.
“This is Elvira’s handwriting,” Cerise whispered, her hand shaking as she clutched the scrap of parchment in her hand. “Do you still have the letter we found in the cottage?”
“Yes. It’s in my chambers.”
“We can show both to the council. They’ll be able to see the matching code names. Will that be enough evidence?” Desperation tinged her voice.
