Chapter 37
Nothing felt odd about awakening next to Linnea. Halsten was accustomed to slipping out of bed and sneaking away once the woman he had relations with fell asleep, but he never once felt the urge to do that with this one.
The night before had completely broken him down and rebuilt him as a man. All he desired in life from here on out was the magnificent woman sleeping soundly next to him, her fiery hair a mess and her nightgown disheveled.
These Orntali women were different from any women he or Kaid had encountered before.
He kissed her bare shoulder. “Good morning, sleepy head. It’s time to get going.”
Linnea groaned, turning over slightly to peek an eye open and look at him. She covered her face with her arms and sighed.
“The men will know what happened since you didn’t sleep in the room,” she stated.
Halsten’s brow furrowed. “If you intended to keep this a secret, you should have told me before we were so loud every room on the floor could hear us.
She blushed a deep beet red. “That bad?”
He swooped in and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Nothing bad about it. And just so we’re clear, I never planned on keeping this a secret. I planned on walking out of here holding your hand and never letting go.”
The ride from the inn to Blomvin Manor would only take a few hours and they were off to a good start seeing as they were saddled and ready to go by the time the sun came up.
With every hour they rode, Halsten could see Linnea’s posture becoming more rigid.
This day would not be easy on her. He didn’t know the full extent of the abuse she endured in the manor, but he picked up on enough.
He had only seen two scars on her, one on each wrist. After last night, he knew her legs did not hold any physical evidence of the worst parts of her life, but that was what strategic abusers did.
If they did leave physical scars, they put them where no one would see them.
And that did not even touch on the subject of mental scarring.
She had only left those scars on Linnea’s wrists because she knew the end was near.
She knew Linnea would somehow escape, and she wanted to leave her with a parting “gift” to remember her by.
If her mother even so much as took one step in Linnea’s direction, Halsten would end her. Hell, he would have to fight back the urge to do it just from laying eyes on the wretched woman.
Linnea let out a shaky breath. “Just up this path,” she gestured by nodding in the direction of the gravel path jutting off the main road.
Halsten did not know what he expected to find at the end of the passage, but it surely wasn’t a polished manor with manicured lawns and lion busts. Judging by the confused look on Linnea’s face, she hadn’t expected it to look so well-kept, either.
“This isn’t right. She’s not supposed to have anything,” she muttered to herself more so than to everyone around her.
Gyrial dismounted his horse, putting a hand out to help Linnea down. Liva stabilized Niklas as he took an uncoordinated leap from his steed, catching his glasses in one hand and grabbing Liva’s forearm with a deathgrip in the other.
Before anyone could fully settle from dismounting and tying up their horses, Linnea marched right for the main entryway. Instead of using the knocker, she slammed the side of her fist on the large oak door.
A servant answered, one who clearly did not work in the manor when Linnea lived there, because there was no sense of recognition. Linnea shoved past him, sending him stumbling backward.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she whispered sweetly before turning back and entering the foyer.
Halsten ran in behind her, followed by Gyrial, Liva and Niklas. She was already charging up the stairs, determined to reach a destination no one else knew about.
Following closely behind her, Halsten saw when she threw a door to a room open that was clearly not used often by the amount of dust coating the air.
The entire manor was slightly chilled due to fall beginning, but this room was cold. Beautiful tapestries of what Halsten now knew were sirens and sea dragons were strung on the walls.
Niklas whimpered and squeezed past Halsten. “Queen Else’s room,” he muttered.
A fascinated Niklas ran his fingers over every surface and fabric he could find while Linnea went straight for the vanity and began digging through drawers.
Halsten stood beside her while Gyrial and Liva guarded the door.
“They’ve got to be here,” Linnea grumbled.
The comb and mirror.
They had traveled all this way in hopes that Queen Else had left the siren artifacts here in her old home, farther away from the sea to protect them. Her small note she had left in a research journal was vague.
Comb and Mirror
Origin: siren
Magic: unknown
Possession: attained
Importance: essential
Greer.
Halsten had never learned what “Greer,” meant, but clearly it led them to the Blomvin Manor. It made sense to Niklas and Linnea, but no one else.
Linnea slammed the last vanity drawer closed in frustration. “It’s not here.”
“It has to be,” Niklas declared. “She specifically wrote Greer!”
Linnea closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath.
“Okay, I’ll ask since the two mute guards over there aren’t going to,” Halsten jested, referencing Gyrial and Liva. “What is Greer?”
“Not what. Who,” Linnea said flatly. “My mother.”
Niklas pushed past Halsten to investigate the vanity himself. “Nothing in your aunt’s journals were wrong. They have to be here.”
Halsten had an idea. “Let me check something.”
He opened each drawer and knocked on the bottom, closing them when he didn’t find what he was looking for. When he got to a bottom drawer, he knocked and a hollow sound reverberated through the vanity.
He ran his fingers along the inside of the drawer until he found a divot. His finger was too big to loop under the indent, so he had Linnea grab it. She pulled, lifting the false bottom out of the drawer.
“You did it,” Niklas was hypnotized by what was in the drawer.
Halsten shrugged. “I made a false bottom to hide my rum from my parents when I was younger.”
A hand mirror encased in a gold handle covered in ornate carvings sat there, untouched and hidden for decades.
“It’s only the mirror, though.” Niklas ran a hand through his curls.
Linnea slowly shook her head. “I know exactly where the comb is.”
“You do?” Halsten asked. “Where?”
“Hidden in plain sight. Directly on Asta’s vanity.”
Gyrial stowed the mirror in his pack to keep it safe since he was probably the most lethal of the group. Well, on land, anyway. Get Liva to any body of water and she would take down troops in one swipe.
“How did Queen Else get ahold of such a precious siren artifact?” Liva questioned. “This has been lost for thousands of years. We were always taught that the fae took our most powerful weapons and hid them in an attempt to keep the peace between the two merspecies.”
Gyrial shrugged. Halsten always forgot how thick his Spellid mountain accent was until he spoke. The fae was of few words unless he was around Asta.
“No word of your comb and mirror have been passed down to the most recent generations. The first I heard of them was when Niklas mentioned them. The trident, on the other hand, is something any fae will willingly admit we keep hidden. Though the vast majority of fae don’t know where it is, we all know we have it. ”
“Do you know where it is, then?” Liva pressed.
“Of course not, or else I would have retrieved it by now. I would like this war to end once and for all, as well. Asta is not safe until it is.” Gyrial challenged the sea dragon with a hard stare.
Either way, the trident was likely not in the Blomvin Manor and they had been blessed by having this much time going undisturbed.
Halsten twirled his finger in a circular motion. “Let’s wrap it up. We can rehash century-long feuds on the ride home.”
To Halsten’s surprise, everyone agreed and emerged from the room. As they came down the stairs, the exit in sight, a figure stepped into their path.
It was a woman, finely dressed in a thick green velvet gown that complemented her auburn hair. A thick smattering of freckles crossed the bridge of her nose, but did nothing to conceal her wrinkles and age spots. Especially her frown lines.
She stood between them and the doorway with a wicked grin on her lips.
Linnea stepped down a few more stairs ahead of the group. “Beautiful dress. Who paid for it? It certainly wasn’t the Blomvin trust, seeing as King Botmar is currently storing that until I’m old enough to manage it myself.”
Greer smiled sweetly. “Didn’t you hear? I remarried after you left me. Duke Tiernan of Besniell. He so graciously repaired the manor you left in shambles after robbing me.”
So, that was how she twisted the story. Her evil daughter robbed her blind and ran away with the Blomvin trust, leaving her with nothing.
Greer stopped a servant nervously passing through the foyer. “Be a dear and stoke the fires. It’s a bit chilly, and I would hate for my daughter to get cold during her visit.”
Judging by the way Linnea’s fists balled, Halsten knew Greer struck a nerve. He stepped forward and placed a hand on the small of Linnea’s back. She leaned into his touch.
“So you’ve tricked someone else into your twisted games. Tell me, who do you chain to the grand fireplace now that I’m not here?” Linnea sucked in a shaky breath but concealed it well.
Chained to the grand fireplace? Every muscle in Halsten’s body tightened with restraint to stop himself from strangling this woman.
The scars on Linnea’s wrists were from heated metal.
From the corner of his eye, Halsten could see that Gyrial now had his hand on the pommel of his sword, also using an extreme amount of restraint to not slaughter the woman.
A short, stout man with a full face of hair sauntered into the room, a stunned expression on his face when he noticed the crowd on the stairs. “My love, I wasn’t aware we had guests coming today.”