“I—” Rose tried again. “This is the first thing directly linked to me and my answers. My shadows have kept this hidden . . . for whatever the reason, but they entrusted it to me. I should keep ahold of it.”
Captain Sayla slowly dropped her hand. “As you wish.”
“Why do you think the shadows hid it in the first place?” Micah asked.
Rose settled the leather-bound book against her legs and ran her fingers over the old leather. “If I said it was because of a feeling, would you think me terribly crazy?”
King Micah smiled and slowly started chuckling. “No. Of the things I’ve seen in the last few days alone that would not even make the list of things that are crazy.”
Rose nodded. “I have this feeling that this . . . whatever this contains wasn’t meant to be. The wolves said D’ray follows the path of another from long ago, and that he shouldn’t be trying to do whatever it is. I don’t think people should know whatever is written on these pages. This book makes me nervous.”
It should, Stalker. It should.
Rose snapped her head around looking for the speaker and saw was a pair of red eyes glowing in the dark corner of the room. Captain Sayla followed her line of sight and turned back to Rose with a slight frown.
“So, any ideas on what the king’s role is?”
Rose felt a blush creep up her neck at the captain’s tone. “No. I have no idea.”
Captain raised an eyebrow at Rose and she glared. “It’s not like I have an open dialogue with the shadows, woman! Until a week ago they hadn’t spoken more than a few words to me. Before I came here I didn’t even know they could speak.”
The captain turned her critical gaze to the king who looked just as petulant as Rose felt. “They said nothing more than that to me.”
Captain Sayla raised her hands in defense. “I was merely asking.”
“No, you were not.” He scowled at her, and she had the grace to look guilty. Rose watched the looks exchanged between the two. There was a conversation in that look, one neither were happy about if the scowl was anything to go by, and Rose wondered at how it involved her.
Rose set the book back onto the table and sank back down on the bed with a groan. The room spun and her stomach rolled. Rose moaned and closed her eyes against the lurching room.
“I’ll find Madame Rita,” the captain said, and Rose heard the chair creak as she stood.
“There is no need, Captain,” King Micah stalled her.
Rose felt him lay the damp cloth back against her eyes and he pressed it gently against her forehead. “You moved too fast,” the king told her.
Rose was having a harder and harder time remembering he was a king.
He pulled back from her. “Captain, unless you have any other pressing questions, I believe we can wait until Rose has recovered fully.”
We each have our questions. We’ll each ask them later, Rose thought at her, hoping she would hear.
Captain Sayla nodded once and turned to follow the king out.
Rose stared at the blurry ceiling. Too often she found herself in this room since coming here. Frustration and boredom was making her twitchy. She needed to be out, away from this room that made her feel like an invalid. Her eyes were healing, but everything was still a bit fuzzy. It made her feel weak, and vulnerable. Rose ground her teeth and fisted the sheet in her hand. She couldn’t stand the feeling.
A soft knock sounded at the door, so soft she wouldn’t have heard it had she not already been counting her breaths in the silent room.
“What?” she grunted at the door.
It creaked open and Rose squinted at the newcomer. She pushed herself into a more upright position when she recognized the king. “I am not intruding, am I?”
“No,” Rose muttered. Truthfully, she was thankful for the interruption. “Can I help you with something?”
She watched him as he sat, almost hesitantly, in the small chair wedged in the corner.
“No, I—” The king cut himself off with a sigh. “I wished to talk.”
“About?” Rose asked when he said nothing further.
The king stared at the wall. Rose pulled her knees up and hugged them, resting her chin on her knees.
“You don’t like authority,” he blurted, but it didn’t sound like a judgment.
Rose snorted. “I have a hard time recognizing any authority but my own.”
“The captain has noticed,” he said with a smirk. “But, you don’t seem to care I am king, you don’t speak to me like I am. You don’t have a political agenda.”
Rose wasn’t sure if she needed to defend herself or explain herself as she sat there crippling for words.
The king must’ve seen the conflict on her face. “That is not a criticism. Just an observation.”
Rose wasn’t sure that was any better, but she chewed her cheek and waited.
“I wanted to talk, simply talk, and have honest answers. Not someone who curtails their words to what they think I want to hear.”
“Isn’t the captain a close enough friend to be that person?”
The king smiled softly. “She’s like my sister, but she is also a very good captain. When the crown fell on me she knew she could not treat me the same she had before.”
Rose hummed softly and straightened her legs back out.
“The guards have not found any promising leads for the spy. There are so many people at the castle, how can they possibly narrow down to who it is?”
“Have they spoken to Sasha?” Rose asked.
“Who?”
“A seamstress. She was asking about the guards and what they were looking for when they’ve been interviewing everyone. There is the rumor circling they’re looking for a spy.”
“And you think this Sasha is worth speaking to?”
“I don’t know enough about her history here to judge but,” Rose chewed her lip, “she’s in a perfect position for it.”
“How so?”
“If I were going to spy on someone well-guarded and hard to reach I would put myself somewhere I have access to those around my target. As some sort of servant. A seamstress in the castle would have reasonable access to anyone’s rooms.”
“Why a servant?”
Rose cast a sardonic look at him. “Because they are never noticed and are given nearly full rein of their master’s homes.”
The king looked a little sheepish.
“And,” Rose continued, “she is Erik’s lover. And he has just been promoted to an even higher rank with more access to sensitive information. I do not know how long she’s been here or when the spy was placed. This could all be nothing more than suspicion and coincidence.”
“I will have my men speak with her.” The king paused before asking, “How many times have you spied like that?”
Rose blinked and silently played the conversation back to herself before realizing how much she’d given away. Internally she was kicking herself. This man managed to get her to say things she never would otherwise. He seemed to pull words out of her.
The king chuckled softly when she continued to stare. “I’ll have your secrets one day.”
Rose gave him a close-lipped grin, though it probably looked more like a grimace. “No. You won’t. You’ve no idea how stubborn I can be.”
“Neither do you.”
The king paused when the soft tolling of the evening bell sounded from the courtyard. “I’m sorry,” he said when he was finished counting the bells. “I’ve stayed longer than I intended. I should leave you to your evening.”
Rose was surprised when he let the subject of her spying drop, but she was starting to suspect he was far more patient than he appeared. “I appreciated the distraction.”
The king nodded his head. “As did
I. Good night, Miss. Trewin.” He slipped out of the room as quietly as he had arrived.
Chapter 34
Faster, Tiny, faster. You need to hustle.”
Rose puffed, unable to form any reply. After the days spent under Rita’s gaze, and orders to rest, she was finally free to return to normal activity. All those days recovering had left her feeling weak. Archie’s treatment was laps and sword fighting drills. Right now, she was lucky she was still breathing. Rose turned the corner on the track and tried to pick up her feet any faster. The damned man was making her run to her death, she was sure of it. Sweat ran down her back and into her eyes, her legs cramped, her lungs burned.
Her toe dragged in the dirt when she failed to lift her foot enough and she stumbled even more. This is hell, she thought, this is the most evil of hells.
“Pick it up, Tiny!”
His shout echoed across the field and the others running past Rose turned and gave her sympathetic looks. If she could breathe Rose would’ve shouted a sharp reply back. As it was, the best she could do was gasp. Monster.
“Try to time your breathing with your steps. It helps.”
Rose turned to the young man running and talking effortlessly next to her and huffed. “It . . . does?”
He smiled and jogged off while Rose still tried to breathe. She rounded the curve and stumbled to a stop in front of Archie.
“You’re not finished.”
“Yes . . . I . . . am.” Rose leaned on the fence heavily, it being the only thing keeping her upright.
“How many laps was that? Six?”
“Eight, you sly bastard.”
Archie chuckled and started talking but Rose was watching a cart pull into the courtyard. It stayed near the gates and didn’t venture much further into the yard. She wiped sweat from her eyes and squinted at the horse-drawn cart. “What is that?”
Archie grunted and sighed at her when he realized she hadn’t been listening at all. Turning around, Archie followed her gaze and spied the cart. A deep sigh escaped him. “A fallen soldier. They are returning a body to us.”
Rose straightened. A body cart?
“Oh gods.” Archie cursed.
Rose noticed the bright golden hair of Captain Sayla marching across the courtyard as Archie spoke. The captain strode briskly to the cart. In the dim light created by the overcast clouds it was just dark enough for Rose to listen through the shadow.
“Sir?”
The old, bearded man walked to the back of his cart. “Found the body near the road. I recognized the uniform, brought him here.”
Captain Sayla was silent as she climbed up the back to look in. Rose heard the woman gag at the smell and saw her quickly back out of the cart. “Thank you for bringing him here. I’ll send the Undertakers to you.” Her voice echoed through the shadows.
“Are you listening?”
Rose jerked away from the scene unfolding in front of her and turned her attention back to Archie. “No, sorry.”
He sighed. “I was saying you can be finished for today. A dead soldier has ruined my day.”
Rose nodded wearily. “You should spend the afternoon with Clara before the weather changes.”
Archie turned away before turning back to her. “Tiny . . . I,” he took a big breath and rubbed a hand down the thick scar running down his cheek. “You and Clara. She likes you.”
Rose pushed off the fence and faced Archie. “Sure. She’s a cute, little girl.”
He rubbed the scar again. “I have not seen her for a long time. She . . . her mother . . . I left to work here some years ago and now . . . I don’t know how to talk to her.”
Rose folded her arms while she listened.
“She asks about my scar all the time. I don’t know how to answer her.”
Rose sighed and dropped her arms. “She’s a smart girl. She understands more than you’d guess. But you could start by telling me.”
“A bad training accident. It was my sword master test. I was fighting a group of sword masters, was nearly finished, too. I missed a blade coming from my left. I was too focused on the attacker to my front. I ducked, just in time to avoid losing an eye, but,” he gestured to the scar, “didn’t quite duck quick enough.”
Rose smiled gently. “I think you tell her that, Archie. You passed? Your test?”
Archie grinned and nodded. “I have the red stripe on my blades to prove it.”
“Then tell her that. And show her the red stripe.”
Archie smiled hesitantly at her and nodded. Rose waved her fingers at him and turned to leave. Shakily, she ducked through the fence. She walked toward the castle and paused as she passed the death cart. Who is in there?
The winds shifted and the foul smell from the cart hit Rose in the face. Holding back a gag, Rose darted into the castle. She stopped at the baths before heading to the Common Room. Rose slipped quietly inside the room and saw Erik sitting in front of the fire.
“Erik?” He turned slowly to her. “I saw the cart in the courtyard. Who . . . ?”
He straightened. “Did you ever meet Jon?”
Rose shook her head. “If I did, I do not remember him.”
Erik shrugged. “He was sent nearly a month ago to Amora with Luci. And a third, Shaun, was sent a few weeks ago.”
Rose remembered the king asking Captain to send more officers weeks ago, in the meeting. “They were sent as spies, weren’t they?”
Erik nodded. “Jon must’ve been caught. Soldiers found his body along the road leading into Amora.”
Rose clenched her teeth. They should not have sent others. “And the others?”
Erik turned his gaze back to the flames. “Captain sent orders to recall them. We haven’t heard back from them yet.”
“How did word get sent to them without revealing them?”
Erik rubbed his head, his blond hair sticking up when he finished. “Shaun is telepathic, much like the captain but not as strong. Luci can project her thoughts. She is positioned in an outpost near Amora and has been relaying orders. We haven’t heard anything from Shaun yet.”
Rose clenched her jaw. All this happened in the days I was resting? “I am sorry, Erik.” I should’ve done more.
Erik sat up and scratched his head again. He nodded at her and went back to watching the flames. Rose quietly retreated from the room, leaving him to mourn on his own terms. Outside in the hallway she let out a large breath. Her hands shook. They sent inquires to an unknown professor about her life. They’d told some stranger her secrets. They sent more spies. Rose leaned against the wall. Why hadn’t she been told? Why were they keeping things from her, things that involved her? She ground her teeth. Rose stormed off down the hallway, her anger growing.
They should’ve told her, talked to her. Then she could’ve told them they were making a mistake. No one else should’ve gone into Amora. D’ray could find people in darkness just as easily as Rose could. They hadn’t listened to her report. They hadn’t been listening to her at all.
Rose stormed down the hallway toward her room. She slammed the door shut behind her. Fuming, Rose glanced around her room looking for anything to distract her, something to break, anything. Instead, all she saw was a barren room with thin sheets on a small bed, one small trunk with her few things and a small vase of dying roses. With a sad sigh all her anger dissolved.
No, they wouldn’t involve her. She was no one. She was a body holding a room, someone passing through. Take her items out of the trunk, discard the vase, and it would be as if she was never here at all.
Rose rubbed her eyes and sighed again. I always was better off on my own. The thought made her throat tight and her eyes moist. When she opened her eyes they landed on the mysterious book. Let’s get this over with so I can move on. Her answers lay here, and she would stay until
she had them, but whether or not this place became a home to her like Nico had said, she wasn’t sure. She grabbed the troublesome tome and started down the hallway.
She easily found her way back down to the records room. The cold made her skin pucker and the hair on her arms to stand on end. Dust from the old tomes and scrolls made her nose itch.
“Oy! You! What are you doing here?”
Rose’s heart skipped a beat at the sudden shout. “Wha—” She peered down the rows of scrolls for the speaker. “I’m looking for someone to translate a text for me.”
Peter appeared from behind a stack of parchments on a small table, this time without the monocle perched on his nose. “Translate what? Did you send down a request? Everything must have a request. It is the rule.”
Rose hugged the book to her chest and did a quick check for ink bottles on his desk. “No, sir. I just came by.”
Peter sighed through his nose and clacked his teeth. “I am busy.”
“If you could just look at the text and tell me if you recognize it? If you know anyone who could translate it?”
“I am the best translator here.”
“Will you look at it, then?”
Peter glared at her. “Let me see it then, girl. Don’t just stand there.”
Rose jerked and placed the old thing on top of the stack of parchment. She opened it to a random page for Peter. He glanced at it briefly but then he leaned in close, surprise covering his face. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his monocle. He placed it on his nose, still staring at the page.
“Where did you find this?”
Rose licked her lips. “It’s a little complicated to explain.”
He gingerly turned a page and spoke without looking up at her. “Un-complicate it.”
“In the burnt section of the castle.”
“In the old library?” Peter asked.
Rose shrugged even though he couldn’t see it, his eyes affixed to the pages.
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