Chapter 13 Sharp Edges
Wren clutched the strap of her school bag.
The fear of Castien’s dagger falling out or poking through the bag was irrational, given the fact that she had wrapped it several times over in one of her shawls, but she still felt worry niggle at her with each jostle.
Hopefully, her problem would be resolved shortly.
She stepped into the hallway where Kierana’s chambers were located.
It was early. Breakfast had not yet been served.
To visit Kierana at this hour was improper, but Wren did not want to continue on without proper securement.
She suspected that her friend would not mind anyway, as the warrior princess cared far more about blades than she did propriety.
Wren counted the doors, then stopped in front of the one Blossom had told her belonged to Kierana. She reached up and rapped lightly on the wood in an attempt to not disturb or draw attention from the surrounding rooms.
The door opened to reveal an older woman with severe eyes and slicked-back gray hair. She said nothing in way of a greeting, so Wren spoke first.
“Good morning, I am here to see Miss Kierana. My name is Lady Wren Kalyxi.”
The woman’s dark eyes narrowed slightly before she nodded.
“One moment.”
She shut the door in Wren’s face. Wren blinked in surprise. That was not common behavior of a lady’s maid, though she supposed Kierana was not technically a lady. Stonemouth did not have the same societal stations that other islands had adopted.
The door opened again, the same woman appearing before Wren. The only emotion Wren gathered from her was annoyance.
“Would you like some tea?” she asked, sounding as though the words pained her to say.
“No, that’s all right. I don’t want to trouble you,” Wren replied with a meek smile.
The woman huffed, then spoke over her shoulder. “She refused.”
“Probably because you’re scaring her,” Kierana scolded from somewhere inside the room. “Fetch us some peppermint tea and move aside so she can come in.”
Wren’s eyes widened at Kierana’s tone. The woman let out something akin to a growl before stepping back and holding the door open for Wren.
“Thank you,” Wren squeaked, and quickly passed the woman.
As soon as she was inside, the woman left, shutting the door much more softly than Wren anticipated, based on her mood.
The entire room looked as though it were dripping in a mixture of blood and ink, red and black.
Kierana’s bed was similar to Wren’s except the frame was ebony and the canopy was lace the color of night.
The bed itself was topped with wine-colored blankets and gray silk pillows.
“I’m sorry about her,” Kierana said from where she was sitting on a red velvet chaise by the fire, polishing a long sword. “Nanny doesn’t like mornings.”
“Nanny? That is her name?” Wren asked, disbelief coating her tone.
Kierana laughed. “No, her name is Helgar.” Much more appropriate, Wren thought. “But she has tended to me since I was an infant, so I call her Nanny.”
Wren nodded, not voicing her thoughts, which were that she would not have liked such a harsh woman as a caretaker. Perhaps that was why her friend was as strong as she was, though.
Kierana looked up from the gleaming blade, her gaze keen.
“I have not seen you since the ball.”
Her words were part question, part accusation. Wren could not blame her. Wren had run away from the ball, and then Alysia was found dead. Not to mention the suspicious cryptura attack that Wren had not yet ruled foul play out of.
“I have been recovering from another spell. I apologize for not seeking you out sooner,” Wren told her, still standing just inside the door. Kierana had called for tea, and Wren felt no strong emotions from her, but she still was unsure how welcome her presence was.
“You look as though you are here for a reason. Do you know something about the murders that you wish to share?”
Wren’s abdomen tightened. She knew a great deal more than Kierana did, unless Eindar had broken the pact and spoken with her. Wren doubted that, though. Castien would not have trusted him if Eindar wasn’t loyal. It saddened Wren that there was a chance her friend trusted a man who would lie to her.
She shook her head. “Likely not more than you. I am here for a reason, however. I received a gift that requires both accessories and aid.”
Kierana raised a brow. Her friend’s excitement sparkled in Wren.
“Do tell.”
Wren walked farther into the room and gingerly set her bag on Kierana’s bed. Then she reached inside and pulled out the wrapped blade. Carefully, she unrolled it and grasped the hilt before presenting it to Kierana.
Surprise flickered through the warrior. She set aside her sword, then held a hand out.
“May I?”
Wren handed it over. Kierana weighed it in her palm for a moment before spinning it in a manner similar to the way Finn had in the gallery.
“Which Valengard boy bestowed this upon you?” Kierana asked.
Wren’s brows shot up.
“How did you know it was from a Valengard?”
Kierana’s answering smile was wry.
“I have a list of reasons. One, I recognize the blade as I’ve seen both Finn and Castien using it on the training grounds.
Two, the Valengard crest is on the pommel.
” She tipped it back so Wren could see a fox with emerald eyes wink at her.
She had missed that detail when Castien gave it to her.
“And three, they are the only two people on this island besides myself who would hand you a dagger while people are dropping dead.”
Wren’s mouth opened, then closed.
“You do realize that the entire academy is suspicious of you, right?” Kierana continued.
“Your brother dies in an ‘accident’, then you show up only for two high-ranking female students to die. The only way to make things more dubious would be if Callalily died next. They might lock you up if that happened.”
“I gathered that I was a suspect during my interrogation after the ball, but I suppose I did not think that everyone would feel similarly.” Wren wrung her hands.
“They probably wouldn’t, if it weren’t for Calypsia spreading rumors.” Kierana rolled her eyes. “ I heard her prattling about in the drawing room yesterday. Someone should investigate her. She’s a bloodthirsty Grimhaven princess. They should lock her away based on that alone.”
A laugh bubbled out of Wren.
“I take it you don’t think me a killer, then? You let me in your chambers.”
Kierana’s grin had an edge to it.
“I don’t think you’re the killer, no, but even if I did, that wouldn’t stop me from letting you in. I’ve got enough weapons to equip an army.” She gestured to the trunks in the corner. Wren tried not to think about how many weapons they must hold.
“That’s precisely why I came to you,” she said, returning back to her mission. “I need a way to carry the dagger without stabbing myself.”
Kierana laughed.
“I can assist you. I have a great many belts and scabbards. Nanny says I brought too many, but I like to have options depending on my mood and dress.” Kierana set Castien’s dagger to the side next to her sword on the chaise.
She tipped her head to the right. “It was Castien, wasn’t it? He gave you the blade.”
Wren averted her gaze to the floor. She stared at her pink slippers poking out of the bottom of her academy uniform.
“Yes, he did. After the ball.”
That was vague enough that she wasn’t entirely lying.
“The way he ran out after you …” Wren looked up in time to catch Kierana shaking her head. “It makes sense that he’d want you to be protected.”
Wren frowned at Kierana’s tone. She could not make out the meaning of it, or rather she did not want to.
It would make her think of sitting beside the fire while Castien slept.
About his hooded eyes and murmured endearments.
She had worked to rid herself of the images, but they seemed to be seared in her memory.
Kierana bent down beside one of the glossy black trunks on her floor. She opened the lid and exposed a pile of leather pieces that she then began to dig through.
“Would you like to hide the dagger or have it on display?” Kierana asked as she pulled out various pieces with complicated straps and intricate engravings.
“I am not sure,” Wren admitted.
Having it on display seemed to be more threatening, but it might be better to keep it stowed away, so as to not arouse more suspicion from her peers.
“I will give you a belt to go over your dress and one that straps around your calf. You can choose based on your mood or situation, as I do.” Kierana smiled up at Wren.
Wren could feel her friend’s bubbly excitement. It was similar to how Blossom’s emotions felt the night she was preparing Wren for the ball.
“Thank you, Kierana. I very much appreciate this. It is difficult to imagine myself using the weapon, but at least now I know I can wear it comfortably.”
Kierana shut the trunk, a few options beside her on the floor.
“You will never be comfortable until you see the blade as an extension of yourself. Without that ability, it will forever feel like a foreign weight attached to your person.”
Wren glanced at the dagger. It gleamed in the flickering light of the fire.
She would not be able to save herself from the fate of Kelda or Alysia without learning to wield some kind of weapon.
Her brother’s justice depended on her survival.
Though she despised the idea, she looked back at Kierana resolutely.
“Will you train me, then? Make me the best warrior I can be. I will be more dedicated than before, I promise.”
A wicked grin spread across Kierana’s face.
“It would be my pleasure.”