Chapter 20
A blustering wind blew open Castien’s coat as he trudged toward the training grounds.
Icy slush crunched beneath his boots. Dreadful weather for class, but Ivanhild was not one to cancel on account of such trivial matters.
Dueling was to begin shortly. He hadn’t planned on arriving early, but he’d gotten restless in his room with the walls covered in evidence that taunted him.
The longer the killers went undiscovered, the longer they believed they’d gotten the best of him. Castien would not stand for that.
He stepped onto the grounds and lifted his chin.
Frigid mist pelted his face. He was forced to squint to make out the three figures in the middle of the field.
But he would recognize Wren’s moonlight hair anywhere.
She was sparring with Kierana, wielding Castien’s dagger with less precision than he typically did but more than he thought she possessed.
Kierana lunged with a dagger of her own, and Wren attempted to dodge but wasn’t quick enough.
Kierana stopped just short of nicking Wren.
Cyprus studied them from nearby, his arms crossed and his brow stern.
“I didn’t know class was beginning early,” Castien called out as he approached.
Wren looked at him over her shoulder. Her hair was wild, the curls whipping around her face in a way that likely inhibited her.
She wore a long-sleeved academy dress with a deep-emerald ribbon around her waist that seemed unusual compared to the pastel tones she usually chose.
Castien frowned when he noticed she wasn’t wearing a coat.
Even with the exertion of fighting, it was much too cold to be without the garment.
“Kierana says that my weapon must be an extension of myself,” Wren said, her breathing slightly uneven. “I will need much more practice if I am to even believe that is a possibility.”
Castien barely resisted the urge to chuckle. He wouldn’t have resisted at all if they were alone.
“Wise words,” he said to Kierana.
The Stonemouth warrior raised a brow.
“Words she should have been told before receiving such a beautiful gift,” Kierana replied with a pointed look.
So she’d noticed he’d given Wren his dagger.
Good. Castien had hoped as much when he gave it to her.
That others would look upon it and know that Wren was under his protection.
His blood went cold when he realized the implication that now held.
Kelda and Alysia had lost their lives for less of a connection. Had he made a fatal mistake?
“Yes, perhaps more instruction was warranted,” Castien replied, panic swirling in his chest.
Wren studied him, worry lining her expression.
He noted the dark half-moons beneath her eyes.
Castien needed to pull himself together and ensure his walls were fortified.
She did not need to add concern for him to her burdens.
Besides, he would not allow any harm to come to her. He would die before that happened.
“Are you up for a change in partners?” Castien asked, unsheathing the dagger he kept at his hip.
Her pale pink lips turned up at the edges. Before she could reply, Cyprus spoke up.
“She has already practiced for over an hour, and we still have class. She’s probably tired.”
Castien eyed the man. His stance was as rigid as his tone.
Cyprus was no threat to Castien, given his low rank in both the Order and in society.
He was not Gifted—which made him useless in the eyes of many—but he had worked hard to earn his place at the academy.
Castien admired that sort of tenacity. He had noticed Cyprus’s proximity to Wren on different occasions but never suspected anything more than friendship between them.
The man’s protective words seemed to speak of something more, though.
Castien glanced at Wren, who looked confused.
“I think Wren is rather capable of answering for herself, don’t you?” Castien challenged.
As Castien expected, Cyprus cowed almost immediately, though he wouldn’t have minded if the man had put up a fight.
“Yes, of course. Forgive me if I overstepped.” Cyprus directed his words toward Wren.
Wren gave him a polite smile.
“No forgiveness needed. You were looking out for me as a friend. I am well, though, and would like to spar again.” She turned to Castien, her eyes alight with an excitement that made Castien’s chest warm.
“Shall we spar then, Cyprus?” Kierana asked. Cyprus’s brow furrowed, but he gave her a gruff nod.
Castien led Wren away from her friends, creating enough distance for privacy without suspicion.
“You are not wearing a coat,” Castien pointed out as he faced her.
A smile played on the edges of her mouth.
“Are you worried about me, Your Highness?”
Always, he wanted to say, but did not.
“Only one of us can be Tidesick within a fortnight,” he replied, eliciting a laugh from her.
“Has your station gone to your head so much as to make you think you can dictate when someone becomes ill?”
“Would such a power be so bad? I would stave off sickness for my kingdom.”
She shook her head.
“I feel as though you are far too strategically minded for a control of that magnitude. I cannot imagine how trade negotiations would go.”
Castien smirked. “Very well, for me.”
She gave him an exasperated look, though she was still smiling.
“Are we going to spar, or am I risking Tidesickness for nothing?”
It was Castien’s turn to spear her with a look.
“Be honest with me—are you cold?”
She hesitated for a breath too long before shaking her head. Castien sheathed his dagger, then shrugged off his coat.
“You cannot go without a jacket either,” Wren scolded him. “If you fall ill again, Heathford is liable to have my head.”
Castien crossed the short distance between them and draped the coat over her shoulders. She slid her arms inside so she was wearing it properly.
“Heathford takes orders from me, and he is under strict ones to protect you.” Wren’s eyes widened at his words. He wrapped the coat further around her, holding it by the lapels. “I’ll take the coat at the start of class. Use it until then.”
She stared up at him, her eyes a powdery blue that reminded him of a rare kind of lily his mother grew in one of the castle greenhouses. Castien saw her hand move in his peripheral vision, then felt the cool edge of a blade against his neck.
“What a creative way to thank me,” he teased.
Her smile widened into something playful that made his stomach flip.
“I do not think I’ll ever have the opportunity to best you, so I thought I’d pretend I did for a moment. I would say I’m shocked you did not stop me, but I know how little of a threat I pose to you.”
He smiled down at her, incapable of holding back in the presence of her joy.
“You are more of a threat than you know, dearest.” In one swift motion, he released the lapels of his jacket and disarmed her, stealing his dagger and pressing the edge to the smooth skin of her throat. “But you are correct that when it comes to a blade, I fear little in the way of anyone.”
Something clouded her expression, and her beautiful smile fell. Castien pulled back the dagger.
“Your words reminded me. I discovered something in the notes from Heron you dictated for me.”
Castien’s eyebrows rose. He’d thought that the messages were mainly emotional. Things to comfort Wren. Not anything of use for the investigation itself. Castien waited for her to continue.
“The book he referenced, Seawanderer, was given to me by Ambassador Westover on my first day here. Heron either gave it to him, or he stole it. Either way, Westover must be involved.”
Though Westover was eccentric and erratic, it still surprised Castien that he would have any connection to the murders.
“I can look into it, or perhaps we can confront him directly. We do have evidence, after all.” Wren nodded. Castien tilted his head to the side. “What about my words made you think of this, though?”
Wren wilted. Castien immediately hated himself for asking.
“You mentioned not fearing anyone. He spoke on the subject of fear in our meeting,” Wren said in a small voice.
Castien’s distaste for the man grew into something bitter and vengeful.
“Cyprus said you’ve sparred for over an hour?” Castien asked.
Wren’s brow furrowed, but she replied, “Yes. I also sparred in Kierana’s chambers this morning over breakfast.”
Pride at her dedication rose up within Castien, but he did not have time to dwell on it. They had someone they needed to see.
“Then I think we should pay Ambassador Westover a visit in his office. You don’t need more dueling for today, and I will not miss the extra training.”
Wren bit her lip as she considered his suggestion. After a moment, she nodded her head once.
“As long as we’re careful, then I agree that we should speak with him.”
Castien imbued his gaze with sincerity.
“I won’t put you in danger, Wren.”
She gave him a soft smile.
“I know.”