Chapter 34 Isi #2
The room felt too quiet now, that aching, heavy kind of silence that let every suppressed emotion crawl out of the shadows and poke you.
So I listened instead. To the soft creak of timber beams shifting overhead. The dull moan of the wind brushing the glass. Somewhere far off, a door thudded closed. Faint footsteps retreated into silence.
The castle had started to sink into sleep.
I wasn’t going to think about how Trew made me feel.
Yes, he’d kissed me like I was the only star in his sky. And yes, I’d kissed him back like he was the air I breathed.
What happened was an indulgence. A lapse in judgment.
I wasn’t here to be swept up by Trewyn Valdris, even if he did look at me like I was the answer to every question he hadn’t dared ask before. No matter how his laugh felt like every sin I’d ever craved.
This was about justice and revenge and answers.
He must know things. He’d hinted at it too many times, dancing around the truth like it was a game we were both pretending not to play.
I would not keep pretending.
I looked down at the pendant still clutched in my hand.
If I wanted the truth, I had to go to the source.
Finally, the castle settled like a sleeping beast.
Dressed in my boots that didn’t squeak, plus a comfortable tunic and pants, I stepped out into the hall and shut the door behind me with a soft click. For a moment, I simply stood there, bracing my back against the wood.
My pulse betrayed me, beating too fast, as if Trew stood right here beside me. As if he was behind me now, and I was leaning into him instead of the door.
I’d turn, look up at him, my lips parting in anticipation of his kiss.
He’d driven me to a half-dazed hunger in the sparring ring. And I’d let it happen. But he wasn’t here now.
I ran my fingers over my mouth, finding my lips still slightly swollen.
My body throbbed. I’d found complete pleasure. He had too.
“Stop it,” I hissed to myself. I bumped off the door and started down the hall.
I’d search the castle, though I doubted I’d find evidence of Addie’s presence left behind in a library or parlor. No, I’d bet anything the best place to look would be Trew’s study or office. He must have one.
If anyone questioned me, I’d pretend I was wandering. That I couldn’t sleep. That I wasn’t entirely and utterly unraveling.
I padded through the castle halls, my fingers curled tight around the hems of my sleeves. The halls had quieted. Only a few guards passed me, and the distant clang of cutlery from the kitchens had faded.
The hallways echoed with silence. Even the low torchlight seemed tired. The air in the corridor had chilled. Somewhere, a clock chimed.
I didn’t know where I was going, but I’d start on the first floor.
There, I turned a corner and collided with a steward carrying a tray of used teacups and pretty little plates, his brow furrowed. I stepped back quickly, keeping my face composed.
He blinked at me, startled, then squinted as if trying to place me.
“Sorry,” I whispered with a sheepish smile. “I got turned around. I was looking for, um…” Think fast, Isi. “The tapestry hall. I thought there was one nearby?”
The steward shifted the tray in his arms and gave me a skeptical look. “It’s not on this level. You’ll want the gallery for that. Second floor, west wing.”
“Ah, yes. Of course. Second floor. Thank you.” I bobbed my head, already moving past him, starting up the stairs to the next landing. I could feel his gaze between my shoulder blades until I reached the second floor and strode toward the west wing.
I stopped a cleaning maid collecting laundry and another steward lighting a lantern with a long-tipped taper, asking them if they knew where the king’s study was. I kept my voice light, casual. Both shook their heads, their eyes going wary the moment I said “king.”
Frustration tightened its fist around my heart.
This place might be a maze of stone and secrets, but I wasn’t giving up.
On the third floor, I came across a woman with ink-smudged hands and a sheaf of papers under one arm. She wore the robes of a clerk and looked both overworked and mildly annoyed, which made her ideal.
I caught her as she turned down a narrow corridor. “Excuse me?”
She glanced my way, her eyebrows lifting.
“Can you direct me to the king’s study?” I kept my tone light. “He asked me to bring him something, but forgot to tell me where to find it.” I gave an apologetic little shrug, like men, right?
She frowned, adjusting the stack of papers in her arms. “North wing. Sixth floor. End of the corridor. Big double doors with beast-head handles. Would you like me to take you there? He might be gone, and the door will be locked.”
“No, no, that’s fine. If he’s not there, I’ll find him there tomorrow.” I beamed. “Thank you.”
She nodded and strode down the hall.
I took the stairs up three flights, encountering no one, and turned toward the north wing.
The deeper into the castle I went, the colder it became.
The torches here were fewer, flickering low in their sconces.
Some had burned down to nubs, and wax puddled on the iron brackets and the flagstone below.
I walked slowly, counting my footsteps, aware of how they echoed when the stone corridors opened wide.
Windows stretched tall on one side of the hall, moonlight stabbing pale blades across the floor. It felt like I was walking into the heart of something alive and listening to it breathe.
Goosebumps pricked across my skin. I was being ridiculous, spooked by shadows and flickering torchlight, but I curled my fingers around the hilt of the dagger tucked up my sleeve.
I was about to try to sneak into Trew’s office. Not the study of a random old man, but the king of this court. My father would kill someone for doing a thing like that.
Would Trew?
He hadn’t given me that impression, but what did I truly know about him—and what he might be holding back?
My heartbeat quickened.
It was foolish to think of him as a threat when I’d let him touch me like that. But it was even more foolish to forget why I was here in the first place.
Trew knew something. I was sure of it. And if he didn’t…
I reached the north wing. The corridor narrowed, flanked on one side by dark windows and on the other by solid stone walls broken only by the occasional tapestry.
And then I saw a door that held a carving in the shape of a cinderhawk on the left and a firecat on the right, twisting out of the wood with eerie realism.
Their eyes gleamed in the low light. The door itself had been constructed of pale wood, and it looked older than most of the palace. Tall, it made even me feel tiny.
I stood in front of it, shifting on the balls of my feet.
Was he inside?
I didn’t knock. I reached up and laid my hand flat on the surface. Behind me the castle stretched silent and endless.
I didn’t know what I’d say if he was inside.
I didn’t know if I’d demand answers or deny everything or—stars help me—kiss him again just to feel something besides confusion and pain.
This is about answers, I told myself again. I’d whispered that line as I strode through the halls, letting it settle into my spine.
I counted to three, and then I tried the handle.
Locked. Of course.
Glancing over my shoulder, I found nothing but shadows and flickering torchlight. No one storming this way.
Gathering my courage, I knocked, rapping hard on the wooden surface.
Silence ruled the hall.
I knocked a second time. Louder. If he came to the door, I’d make up some excuse but…
He didn’t.
Aw, he wasn’t here. “Damn.” My snort rang out.
Stooping in front of the lock, I slid the slender blade that Trew had given me into my palm. Rather ironic that I’d use his blade to break into his study. Although, it was my blade now. He’d given it to me.
It wasn’t the best tool for locks, but I’d made do with worse.
My father kept all his private rooms locked.
I’d only snuck in a few times, determined to find out what he might be hiding, if anything, but I’d soon realized my father was boring.
No evidence of crimes. No exciting paperwork that would reveal anything important.
I hadn’t tried to get inside one of his private rooms in years.
With my heart in my throat, I wedged the tip into the lock, fumbling with it for what felt like too long. My pulse beat loud in my ears, every tiny click inside the mechanism echoing through me. I thought of Addie. Of the cut jewel in my chambers. Of what Trew might be hiding behind this door.
A soft snick rang out as the lock gave way.
I stood, my breath catching in my throat, and tucked the blade into the sheath strapped to my waist. After sucking in a few gulps of air, I slowly turned the door handle.
The cinderhawk didn’t blink. Neither did the great cat.
The door creaked open at my touch.