Chapter 14
Theo
Theo dove forward to catch Amaris. She was agonizingly stubborn. The pressure in his head grew as he heaved her up. She was heavier in his arms than he expected, with more muscles than soft curves. With his head pounding, he hadn’t noticed the other night when he’d thrown her over his shoulder.
In a short time, she’d already started to get on his nerves, won Esaias’s affections, and managed to piss off most of the army.
The audience with his father had been a disaster.
If she didn’t have such a sharp tongue, he would’ve felt more inclined to side with her against the allegations made of her.
The sweet smell of vanilla wafted from her hair as her head bobbed against his chest. A few groans slipped past her lips as he carried her through the empty halls.
The curtains had been drawn for the night, and the servants were going around lighting the torches.
The few they passed paid them no attention as he lugged her through the darkened halls toward the library.
His eyes skimmed the portraits outlined in golden frames. His mother always hated this wing. She used to say she was being watched by the beady eyes of the portraits gazing down on her. Theo had never taken issue with them before, but since he’d returned, their eyes followed him, knowing, taunting.
He forced open the door. It didn’t need to be decorated in vines or elaborate renditions of past battles to stand out among all the rest. In fact, he preferred the simple nature of the solid wood with brass handles.
His mother may have hated walking down the hall of piercing glances, but she’d always said it was worth it to reach the treasures at the end of the hall.
She would’ve spent her entire life behind the library’s doors if she could’ve.
Theo was greeted with the lovely scent of old leather, musty books, and candle wax.
All the librarians were either still eating or had gone home for the night, but one woman always stayed later after supper than anyone else.
Along with being a librarian, Pricilla was capable of healing small ailments and had begged to take over the duties of the mystique until a new one came along.
Her fascination for the mystique world had always baffled Theo, and the old mystique spent a great deal of time shooing her away.
She wasn’t much older than Theo, but with the number of books she digested, she was one of the smartest people in Luana Bay.
It was a good thing Amaris was unconscious.
Not only was Pricilla intelligent, but she was also the sweetest and most gentle creature he’d ever met. Amaris would’ve eaten her alive.
He followed the fortress of towering bookshelves leading to the mystique tower at the back of the library.
He found it hard to believe anyone other than an accomplished reader wouldn’t get lost in here.
In the center of the library, a frosted-glass ceiling overlooked a wide gallery of the librarians’ desks and other tables.
Theo used to find home at a small table shoved at the back near a shelf of books on sailing adventures.
He hefted Amaris tighter to his chest and continued his trek through the endless rows of stories and adventures to the back staircase.
He approached the open arch, but scaling the tight spiral staircase would prove to be a challenge with Amaris in his arms. He moved slowly, using the tip of his boot to feel each step with the light of the few torches lining the walls.
It didn’t make sense to place the infirmary five stories up, but the manor was several hundred years old and hadn’t been built with that in mind.
The door was already open, with candles illuminating the center of the room. He stopped in the doorway, clearing his throat. Pricilla stood nose deep in a book perched on the worktable.
She lifted her head of snowy-white hair, smiling sheepishly as a glassy daze settled over her violet eyes. At the sight of Amaris, her smile faded, and her eyes were alert and fixed on her, cradled in Theo’s arms. “What happened?” she asked in her light and airy voice.
“She fainted, but her hand is what concerns me.” Theo placed Amaris on the small bed by the hearth, her figure crinkling the pressed white linen.
A fire glowed beside him, sending the aroma of a campfire to settle through the room. The popping and cracking of embers sounded in his ear as he kneeled beside her to brush a clump of hair clinging to her lips.
Pricilla kneeled beside him, bowing her head with a graceful nod before she studied Amaris’s bandaged hand.
Her fingers moved in slow, fluid movements as she unraveled the loose linen.
A yellow substance seeped from the wounds on her knuckles, and her fingers were red and swollen with bruising.
He should’ve been more attentive to her injury.
“Do we know what caused this?” Pricilla studied her hand gingerly as she turned it over to assess the swelling of her fingers.
“A mirror.”
“Who is she?” Pricilla didn’t lift her gaze as she dragged her thumb over a cut, leaning closer to analyze it.
“Amaris.”
The only people allowed in the throne room had been soldiers, and they’d been given a direct order to keep the accusations against her within the confines of the army.
No one was to know of her identity until his father was satisfied and made his decision.
She would be under guard at all hours of the day and locked in her room at night.
Bennet disagreed, but his father provided a valid point.
If the people of Luana Bay believed the new mystique was being investigated for murder, they wouldn’t seek her out for medical attention.
“She is to be the new mystique,” Theo added.
Pricilla released a deep sigh. “I knew this was only temporary, but I didn’t think the duke would find a replacement so soon. I haven’t even had time to organize Cornelius’s possessions.”
Theo gazed around the filthy room and the large pile of chests and bins yet to been cleaned out. Cornelius had never been one to care about the cleanliness of his study, and upon his death, the room further fell into disarray.
“Her wound has festered. I can use the yuxiway leaves and assess as she heals,” she said, pulling back his attention.
“Will she lose her hand?” Theo had had a soldier under his charge who’d been shot with a rifle.
The injury had become inflamed, and they’d been behind enemy lines and without proper herbs to tend to it or the ability to remove the musket ball.
He’d ended up losing part of his leg when they’d returned to camp.
Pricilla offered a gentle smile. “It’s always a possibility, but I wouldn’t think so.” She strode to the wall of shelves with jars upon jars of herbs.
Theo left her to collect the necessary items. He didn’t know how to begin identifying herbs. He was only familiar with fade chicory and its ability to stanch bleeding. It’d been the only herb they carried with them on missions.
Theo took a seat in one of the upholstered chairs by the hearth, across from Amaris.
He studied her hand but found his eyes wandering to her face with the cut and bruise on her cheek.
Initially, the cut had appeared like the other scrapes across her arms, but with the newly sprouted bruise, it told a different tale.
A strike to the face? He cocked his head and further studied the cut. Maybe from a ring.
“Crack in the realm,” Pricilla muttered from across the room.
“What is it?” Theo shot from the chair.
“I’m out of ude stalk.” She planted her hands on her hips, shifting the white dress spilling to her shins and marking her as a servant. With a sigh, she grabbed a bowl off the counter and placed it under his chin. “Spit into this.”
“You want me to do what?” The bowl was filled with crushed-up leaves resembling a small pile of dirt.
“I don’t have any more ude stalk to give the leaves the consistency I need.”
“Why don’t you do it?” He threw back at her.
She thinned her lips and eyed a glass bowl on the worktable.
“Is your throat dry from smoking uppaway, Pricilla?” Theo teased.
She scoffed, “If I’m not mistaken, it used to be a fun pastime of yours.”
Theo dipped his chin and spat into the bowl. Pricilla narrowed her eyes, and at this distance, a thin red ring lined her irises. She whisked the bowl away and blended the concoction furiously.
“Grab the linen from the table,” she ordered.
As she kneeled beside Amaris and began rubbing the mixture onto her hand, Theo crossed the room to the worktable.
He smiled at the rolled leaf resting in the glass tray, long since extinguished.
After he officially became a soldier, he’d elected to avoid the herb to keep a clear head at all times.
He found the small cloth squares set in a basket with several rolls of linen, but his eyes stopped on her book.
“What are you reading?” he asked, admiring the large text with vivid colors.
“A bit of light reading,” Pricilla said without a glance over her shoulder.
Theo would hardly call the massive book light. A beautiful ocean was painted across both pages, with a small vessel floating on the surface.
He went to turn the page, but his eyes caught a smaller tome open on the edge of the worktable.
It was written in the old Gorrin language.
He skimmed the open page but stopped on the phrase aslorn per cuitnun.
Isabel had been speaking Gorrin. He recognized per cuitnun.
It meant “for cover,” but aslorn remained a mystery.
“Pricilla, what does aslorn mean?”
“Brace.”
“Brace for cover?”
“Captain, quit reading and bring me the bandages,” she huffed.
Theo gave her a shrewd look. She’d never once referred to him by name, preferring his title, as she was a servant of the manor.
She brushed off his look. “Hold her arm steady.”
He took Amaris’s hand in his own, holding her puffy fingers and forearm as if they were made of glass. Pricilla began wrapping the linen around it.
“Have you ever heard the phrase aslorn per de eclahard?”
“I thought you were taught Gorrin by your fancy tutors?” Pricilla smiled and tied off the end of the bandage.
As her adoptive mother was the head librarian, Pricilla had run around the library as a child and had often thrown folded paper at him when he’d been at a desk studying.
“Brace for her something, but I don’t know what eclahard means.
It sounds like one of the older Gorrin terms. It probably died before the language itself was put to rest.”
At the dead end, Theo sighed and returned his attention to Amaris.
She slept with her lips slightly parted, and the air whistled as it swept through them.
His fingers hovered over the scab on her cheekbone and the ugly bruise tainting it.
Something didn’t sit right, and he doubted the injury was from Freville.
“From the same incident?” Pricilla asked, standing and striding for the worktable.
“If I were to guess.” He refrained from further questioning aloud the possible origins of such an injury. Amaris hadn’t said anything about another altercation. With the freshness of the bruise and her hand, though, they couldn’t have been that far apart.
His eyes slid down her arm to where her left hand draped across the bed.
A ring sparkled off the flames. Theo kneeled beside her and examined it.
She’s married? Amaris’s story was certainly growing more perplexing.
Why hadn’t she come forward with that information?
His father could’ve sent for her husband to speak on her behalf. Unless he’s the one she’s running from.
“I’ll look after her,” Pricilla said, turning a page in her large book.
“Are you sure?” Theo glanced at the small clock resting upon the mantel. It was growing rather late, and exhaustion was setting in. Amaris would sleep through the night, and hopefully well into tomorrow. A guard wouldn’t be necessary.
“See to your duties. I’m sure you’re busy.”
His headache flared between his eyes. Amaris had known from the few interactions what had been ailing him, whatever she called it.
He turned back to Pricilla. “Do you have a remedy for headaches?”
She inclined a brow, and her eyes wandered to where the cut was likely peeking through his parted hair. Her smile was a friendly reminder that not everything within the walls would add to his aching mind. She rifled through a cabinet, pulling out a vial with a dark-blue tonic.
“Take this when you feel it begin to start up again.”
“What if it’s never gone away?” Theo took the vial and smelled the contents. It was potent and smelled of soil.
“Then I’d be concerned, depending on how long you’ve had it. Try this, and if it doesn’t work, I’m sure Amaris will have a better option.”
“Thank you, Pricilla.” He offered her what he could of a smile and turned down the stairs.
Hopefully, it would work, and he wouldn’t be asking Amaris for any assistance. With her skills, she’d have a remedy for the pounding in his head, but he feared she’d be the top contributor to any future pains his mind was to endure.
Once he was back within the library, he couldn’t help himself as he passed several intriguing titles.
He collected several books and pulled others out, so as to easily spot them later when he finished the first few.
Most of the librarians knew to leave them sticking out, as he was bound to grab them within a day or two.
With his small stack, he grabbed a lantern off a table and set himself up in the back corner behind an empty cart. He sneezed and dust flew up around him. Squeezing his nose, he waited for it to settle before cracking the first spine.
He slid his finger across the page and whispered the Gorrin words, testing them on his tongue.
Even if he couldn’t find the meaning of eclahard, he’d derive it from its root.
He couldn’t put to words why he needed to know, but something within him craved to decipher Isabel’s secret.
Besides, it kept his mind from wandering to the twist of his stomach at the idea of who Amaris could’ve been running from.