Chapter 16 #2
Even though this is precisely what I wanted, my gut twists with unease as I peer into Von Nevus’s rooms. I glance back down the empty corridor, suddenly wishing I cornered him somewhere more public. Or allowed Elodie to accompany me after all.
It’s perfectly fine. Don’t you trust me? Rowenna asks, her voice small and laced with hurt.
In the past, I would have instantly fallen to my knees to begged her forgiveness and offered reassurances, but now I stand there for a long uncomfortable moment, waiting for the fingers of anxiety loosen from around my chest.
Of course I trust my sister. And if Rowenna trusted this boy, I should too.
I proceed into Von Nevus’s rooms with a tight smile.
Unlike my geode chamber and the adjoining glass solarium, Von Nevus’s rooms look precisely how I imagined a mountain fortress would: bleak and ominous, with carpet the color of moss and bronze sconces that provide half enough light for the space.
It doesn’t help that every window is shuttered, making it feel as claustrophobic as a cave. It’s even drafty like a cave.
I wrap my arms around myself as I turn back to face Von Nevus, who has perched on the arm of a wingback chair.
“Sit.” He gestures to the chair opposite. “You look like you’re going to faint or vomit, just like you did in Queen Tessa’s salon. That’s why I helped you. I’ve seen chickens on the chopping block look calmer than you among the courtiers.”
He offers a warm smile, but still I deflate with a huff. I tried so hard to be poised and calm among the Vanzadorian nobles—like Rowenna had been.
Clearly, I failed.
“I also have a soft spot for pretty damsels in distress,” Von Nevus adds with a playful wag of his eyebrows.
I know he’s just trying to lighten the mood, but it has the opposite effect. I’m done being manipulated by charming men.
“Then I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed,” I snap, “because I’m not in distress.”
“Of course not. I’m glad we both agree you’re pretty, though.” He winks, and I sigh loudly.
“Believe it or not, I didn’t come here for idle flirtation.”
“You don’t say,” he says dryly. “Rowenna was clearly the fun sister.”
I narrow my eyes at him and channel my mother’s steady, imposing presence, trying to replicate the way she’d silently take charge of council meetings that slipped from Father’s grip.
“What business did you have with my sister?” I ask again.
“Why do you remember things about her that Queen Tessa and other courtiers don’t? ”
Garitt slides languidly into his chair, legs draped over one armrest, and shakes his head at me. “So serious and unrelenting. Perhaps you and Alaric are a match made in heaven.”
Yesterday, this comment would have sent me through the roof. And I still don’t like or agree with it. But after my confrontation with Alaric in our solarium, Von Nevus’s insult feels more like a prodding finger than a gut punch.
“I won’t apologize for being incensed in the wake of my sister’s death,” I say. “And if you were truly Ro’s friend or ally or whatever you were to her, you wouldn’t be so cheery either.”
This makes Von Nevus bristle. Slowly, he swings to the front of his chair and leans his elbows on his knees. “People grieve in different ways, Little Ro. And maybe I’m not answering your questions because you haven’t asked nicely.”
I heave to my feet. “Forget it.”
“Fine, fine.” He waves me back down. “I’ll tell you what you want to know.”
I sit, arms crossed, glaring until he begins.
“As a member of King Soren’s council, I’m familiar with everyone in the royal household, of course, but your sister and I had a special relationship.”
It could be my imagination, but the way his lips curl around the word special makes my insides tighten.
“Special how?”
“I was her mentor, of sorts. Rowenna had such a keen interest in politics and government. She was curious about everything to do with Vanzador. She wanted to learn and contribute, so she could be an adept ruler alongside Alaric someday.
“On several occasions she asked to attend our council meetings, but King Soren wouldn’t hear of it. To him, Rowenna was Tashiri and not to be trusted. He said she was a silly girl who belonged in the queen’s salon, not his council chambers. You can imagine how well that went over with Rowenna.”
Garitt’s eyes meet mine and I nod. Because finally—finally—this does sound like my sister: learning as much as possible about the inner workings of the Vanzadorian government, raising her voice, secretly scheming and fighting for Tashir.
“So you took her under your wing against the king’s wishes?” I raise a brow at Von Nevus. “Doesn’t that make you a traitor?”
He waves away the implication. “I knew Soren would have to accept Rowenna eventually. It’s not like she could escape back to Tashir—not if she valued the mountains protecting your fields—and someone needed to prepare her to be queen one day.
While Soren may have blind faith and pride in his second son, the rest of us know Alaric was never born to rule like his older brother, Besnik.
Luckily, Rowenna was just the sort of partner he needed.
I simply came to this realization sooner than my colleagues and decided a little risk was worth the reward of being on the right side of Rowenna’s cunning mind. ”
I study King Soren’s “trusted advisor” for a long minute, stunned by his audacity. He’s admitting to outright treason.
Von Nevus rolls his eyes dramatically. “I can see you’re just as narrow-minded as the rest of the council. I’m no traitor. I hardly divulged Vanzador’s most guarded secrets. I simply encouraged Ro to do some light reading in the library.”
“The library?” I deadpan.
I can count on one hand the number of times my sister visited the library in Tashir.
She didn’t have time to read. She was action and resolve, instinct and confidence.
The thought of her being here, in Vanzador, so close to Soren and Alaric’s power and secrets, and choosing to confine herself in the library feels as unnatural as a fox eating cabbage beside a chicken coop.
“You could visit the library too,” Von Nevus says offhandedly. “It’s free and open to all…”
Something about his offer, or maybe it’s the way he says it, feels threatening. Or am I just being paranoid? Seeing menace everywhere because I don’t have a clue who to trust?
“Don’t you want answers?” he presses. “Or are you afraid of what you might find?”
“I’m more afraid this is some sort of trap,” I admit.
He snorts. “If I wanted to hurt you, wouldn’t I do so now—while you’re alone in my chambers, where no one will hear you scream?”
My eyes instinctively dart to the door, and Garitt laughs. “Relax, Little Ro. You’re much more useful to me alive.”
“You sound just like Soren and Alaric,” I say bitterly.
“Except I don’t care about your silly plant. And unlike them, I want you to be informed. I want you to collect all of the available information before you decide who to trust and how to proceed.”
“Nothing in your library is going to make me turn against my own country.”
“Who says you have to choose between my country and yours?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe years of oppression,” I retort.
Garitt shrugs, saunters back to the door, and opens it for me.
“If you want to remain in the dark, go back to your gemstone rooms and spend your days flitting about the queen’s salon.
Accept your fate as a helpless captive, and rot in this palace.
I’m sure Rowenna would understand.” He flashes an acidic smile.
“But if you want to shift the paradigm, there are other opportunities available to you. You just have to be bold enough to pursue them.”
“Rowenna was bold. She followed your advice. And look where it got her,” I point out.
Garitt’s face crumples. “Rowenna’s death was a terrible tragedy, but I swear I had nothing to do with it. Not everyone on the mountain is out to get you.”
“Just most of you.”
“You have to trust someone, you know. You’ll never be able to navigate the Fortress on your own.”
“Fine,” I say as I step back into the hall. “I’ll consider your advice.”
“That’s all I ask,” Von Nevus says with a gracious bow. But I feel his eyes on my back, watching intently until I vanish around the corner.