19. Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Nineteen
V iridian is gone when I wake.
An emptiness permeates me, and I reach my hand out across the mattress where he would have been if he’d stayed. The emptiness is replaced by an ache.
I wish he had stayed.
I sit up and wipe my face, brushing my hair back.
I know it was likely nothing but a figment of my imagination, but I can’t help replaying my dream in my head again. Could it be a coincidence that my dream came after praying to the gods for guidance? Was it really Nemos, the God of Death, who spoke to me last night? Why not Theelia? After all, it’s her fault that I’m in this mess. Her fault that I’d been taken from my home and brought to High Keep to begin with.
I stand and cross the room to my vanity table. I sit and look at myself in the mirror.
I expected to see dark circles under my eyes, but I don’t. Though, I don’t see the old Cryssa staring back at me, either.
I’m not the same girl that was brought to High Keep.
When my chamber door opens, I look away from the mirror.
Tiffy comes in. “Good morning, Miss.”
I smile. “Good morning, Tiffy.”
I stand and follow her into the washroom, where she and two of my other ladies’ maids wash me. I’ve come to know our routine, and I glide through the motions as if I were dancing.
Perhaps I’m more like a lady than I used to be.
That thought would have distressed the old Cryssa. But now, it brings me a sense of triumph.
Tiffy guides me back to my vanity table to comb my hair.
“Tiffy,” I start, glancing at her reflection in the mirror. I know it may be a longshot, but I have to try. “Do you know anything about the last ball hosted by the crown?”
The Heads of House may be tight-lipped, but perhaps the servants still gossip about what happened here one hundred years ago.
“You mean, before your engagement ball?”
“Yes,” I say.
“Not much, I’m afraid.” Tiffy cocks her head and purses her lips. “But I have heard rumors.”
That sparks my interest. “Rumors?”
“Yes.” She nods slowly. “My great-grandmother worked as a housekeeper here, at the castle, when the late High Queen was still alive. She told us stories she’d heard from her time in service to the crown.”
Adrenaline thrums through me. “Do you remember them?”
“Yes,” Tiffy says, pausing briefly as she braids my hair. Her eyes move in the mirror, to the other ladies’ maids behind us. They tidy up my bedchamber, and then disappear into the washroom.
“What you share with me stays in this room,” I promise, hoping that will ease her fear. “I won’t tell anyone what you’ve told me. Your position here is safe. You have my word.”
And I mean it. I’ll share what I’ve learned with Viridian, but I’ll keep Tiffy anonymous. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to her because of me.
That seems to loosen her tongue. “It’s only servants’ gossip, mind you, but…” she hesitates. “Well, people used to say that there was…an unwanted visitor at the last ball. Someone the High King feared.”
“Someone he feared?” The High King is one of the most—if not the most—powerful individuals in all of Inatia, politically speaking. And it is common knowledge that the noble fae possess potent magical power, even if no human has ever seen them wield it. Who could be formidable enough to make the High King, a powerful noble fae, fear them? “Did they know who?”
Tiffy shakes her head. “No, Miss. The servants who were there were too afraid to speak of her.”
“Her?” I ask.
“Yes,” Tiffy says. “All I know is that they described her as a walking storm. They say wherever she went, thunder followed.”
“And she brought that thunder to the High King’s doorstep,” I murmur.
“Yes.” Tiffy finishes my braid and drapes it over my shoulder.
“Thank you,” I tell her earnestly. “Your story is safe with me.”
And Viridian. He has to know.
“Thank you, Miss.” Tiffy bows her head.
“Of course.” I smile.
The other two ladies’ maids emerge from the washroom. I stand, and then they help me into my gown.
All three curtsy before me, while Tiffy and I share a knowing look. They rise and leave my chamber.
But Tiffy’s words run wild through my mind.
I need to find Viridian.
If we can learn the identity of this stranger, this woman that even the High King fears, then maybe, we can discover what’s at the heart of the dark magic poisoning our land from the inside out .
Swiftly, I exit my chamber, skirts swishing behind me while I round the corner. I’m so focused that I nearly topple into Myrdin.
“Oh, I’m—” I stammer, touching my fingers to my forehead. “I’m sorry, Myrdin, I almost crashed into you.”
“No need,” Myrdin assures me. “I should have been paying more attention to where I was going.” His brows scrunch together. “Something troubles you.”
“I’m looking for Viridian,” I say. “Do you know where he is?”
“He’s locked in a room with the High King’s advisers,” he says. The tone of his voice tells me he’s not at all envious of Viridian’s situation.
“I see,” I muse. “All of whom are harassing him with questions he can’t answer.”
“Precisely,” Myrdin sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. Each breath seems to be laced with frustration toward his uncle—who, I often forget, is the High King.
“Have they been targeting you, too?” I ask.
“Unfortunately,” he groans. “Though, not nearly as severely as they do to Viridian. I am only Vorr’s nephew, after all.”
My own aggravation brews. Vorr simply up and left, leaving the burden of running the kingdom to Viridian. And to some extent, Myrdin. Without any warning.
Unless the High King is careless, only something grave would have drawn him away so quickly.
Something connected to the stranger from the ball.
“Where are they?” I ask Myrdin, bringing our focus back to Viridian and his father’s advisers.
“The council chamber,” he answers. “Across from the first-floor library.”
I give him my thanks before taking off down the hall.
I glide down the staircase and round the corner, keeping up my pace until I reach the council chamber. The door is shut, and a mix of masculine and feminine voices sound through the wood.
Crossing my arms, I pace in the hallway.
I lose track of how long I trek back and forth before the door opens.
I pause. A slew of well-dressed fae trail out, and I stay in place, waiting for Viridian.
He emerges last, with a worn look hanging at the edge of his features. But his eyes brighten when he sees me.
“Cryssa. It’s—it’s good to see you.”
“Viridian, I have news.”
“News?” He raises his brows. Then, he glances both ways before retreating back into the council chamber. “Come, quickly.”
I duck into the room after him, and he closes the door behind me. There’s a long table in the center, with chairs positioned all around it. Bookcases filled with stacks of parchment line the back wall between leatherbound volumes.
“What have you learned?” he asks, pulling out two of the chairs.
I sit across from him. I trust him not to expose Tiffy, but still choose to keep her anonymous, just in case. “There was a stranger at the last ball. Someone that the servants were afraid to speak of.”
Viridian’s gaze finds mine. I hold his stare.
“Someone it’s rumored that your father feared, too.”
He presses his mouth into a fine line, a pensive look clouding his eyes. “So, this stranger is the key.”
“Yes,” I say. “I know it’s been helpful thus far, but I don’t think we’ll learn anymore from gossip.”
“Neither do I,” Viridian agrees, rising to his feet. “Now, we need to look for a paper trail.”
“But how?” I ask. “If your father truly wanted to bury any trace of what happened, he would’ve had the evidence destroyed.”
“That’s true,” Viridian admits. “But it’s nearly impossible to destroy everything. Something must have survived.”
I consider his words. “Perhaps.”
“I know it, Cryssa.” He says it with such strength that it’s hard not to be swayed. “And we will find whatever scrap of evidence is left. In fact,” he says, moving toward the bookshelves. “I’ve been meaning to look through the council records.”
“The council records?” I arch a brow.
“Yes,” he says, looking back at me over his shoulders. “Balls are costly, are they not? The council holds all the records from the royal treasury here, in this chamber.”
My eyes widen. I fall into place beside him. “If we can find those, maybe we can find something else. Another lead.”
Viridian nods, looking at me. He gestures to the shelves in front of us. “Shall we?”
“Of course,” I say, not wanting to waste another minute.
A smile tugs at his lips, and he turns to the far-right side of the shelves. I do the same, to the far left. I pull out a few leatherbound volumes—detailing supply inventories, servants’ wages, even monetary aid dispersed through the five Courts—at a time and bring them to the table, where I leaf through them, scanning the pages. Across from me, Viridian does the same. Every so often, I feel the heat of his stare on my cheeks. Seeming to have a mind of their own, my eyes dart up from the pages to look at him, and then back down, just missing his gaze. Our eyes are like ships passing in the night. It rustles the butterflies in my stomach, and for the first time in years, I feel like a much younger girl again.
“Anything?” he asks, breaking the silence.
“Not yet,” I say, while turning another page. “So far, from what I can tell, all I’ve found are supply inventories.”
He huffs. “As have I.”
“We’ll keep looking,” I tell him. “If there is something here, we’ll find it.”
“Of course.” Then he furrows his brow, focused on the stack of parchment in his hands.
I stand, clutching a small stack of heavy volumes, and return them to the shelf. When I slide the last one back into its place, a piece of parchment slides out from behind it.
Pulling it out just enough to fit my hand through, I reach behind the volume and grab the loose parchment. With my attention fixed on it, I sit back down.
The parchment is small—much smaller than the size of the pages in the volumes or stacks of loose papers.
Upon further inspection, I see elegant calligraphy in the center, with neat, hand-written notes in the margins. The ink has bled through the parchment, making the margin notes illegible. But even though it takes me a while to decipher it, the calligraphy is readable.
It’s then that I realize what I’m holding.
“Viridian…” My eyes widen. “I found something.”
He looks up from the volume he’s reading and stands. He makes his way around the table and stands by me, looking over my shoulder at the piece of parchment in my hands.
I read the calligraphy aloud. “The High King and Queen cordially invite you to High Keep to celebrate the birth…”
Viridian’s mouth opens slightly. His face hardens to stone.
“…of the Crown Prince,” I finish.
He backs away, with a hand pressed to his mouth.
The last ball hosted by the crown.
“You were there,” I murmur, connecting the dots. “You were there when it happened. Whatever it was.”
Viridian says nothing, his expression unreadable .
“What is it?” I ask, voice laced with concern.
“Do you…” he stumbles over his words. “Do you think it’s my fault?”
“What?”
“That ball was for me,” he says, avoiding my gaze. “Do you think I’m to blame for whatever happened there?”
“No,” I shoot out. “Of course not. Viridian, you were an infant.”
Why would he blame himself?
He nods, though I can tell he doesn’t believe me.
“Look at me,” I say softly. Closing the gap between us, I gently cup both of his cheeks. “You are not responsible for what happened that day. Or the aftermath.”
His eyes find mine, deep amber brimming with pain. My chest aches when I see it.
“Please,” I say. “Don’t blame yourself for things you have no control over.”
He searches my expression, and then takes a long breath. “Thank you.”
“For what? I’ve done nothing.”
“You have, Cryssa.” His voice is tender. “More than you know.”
I hold his stare, knowing my eyes are telling him everything words can’t say. An overwhelming desire warms my chest.
And this time, I give in.
Lifting myself up onto my toes, I move my hand to the back of Viridian’s neck and bring his face down to mine. I touch my lips to his.
Our mouths lightly brush, at first.
But then, he reaches for my face, holding it between both hands. He deepens the kiss, sliding his hands back, so his fingers stretch behind my ears. Entangling them in my hair, he pulls me closer, lips claiming mine with need.
Fire burns everywhere he touches, and my insides become liquid flame.
His lips part from mine for a moment before his mouth finds me again. Sensation thrums through my body. My hands reach for his chest, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and tugging him closer. It’s as if I’ve been underwater all this time, holding my breath, and now, I’m breathing air for the first time.
I let out a small gasp.
Viridian breaks from me and takes a step back with his hands at his sides.
I watch him, breathless.
“I… I have to go,” he says, catching his breath. It feels good seeing that our kiss has the same effect on him as it does on me. “More meetings to attend.”
“That’s unfortunate,” I say.
“It is unfortunate.” Viridian practically growls, looking at me through hungry eyes. “Will I see you tonight?”
“Yes,” I tell him.
“Wonderful,” he breathes, seeming as if this is the only place he wants to be. “Then I will see you tonight. ”
With a bow of his head, he leaves me alone in the council chamber.
I close my eyes and touch a hand to my lips.