40. Chapter Forty
Casynox wasn’t in the manor. He wasn’t in the home where we’d placed Isaac and the cartographers. It was foolish to think he was, given the state of those decapitated heads. Lyra wasn’t in her room either—and that, in a way, petrified me more given her state of wellbeing prior to leaving.
Her nurse was nowhere to be found either. The manor had been cleared, bloodied, and ruined.
In fact, if it weren’t for hope, I wouldn’t act a fool. If I were wise, I wouldn’t race through town on horseback while Sapphire scrambled to clear the manor. I wouldn’t be putting trust in the woman who lied to Aurelie her entire life but, as of right now, she was the lesser of two evils. I wouldn’t be chasing after somebody I knew wasn’t here.
My heart had never pounded so loudly. I felt as if I could crumble into pieces and turn to an emotionless stone statue, guided only by vengeance and power. There was nothing but hope guiding me, forcing me along a path of dirt held together with string. It was all sifting through the cracks—it was all falling apart.
When I made it back to the manor, I grabbed two changes of clothes, a dagger, sword, and a cloak. When I looked for Aurelie’s sword, though, it was gone. I didn’t have the time to worry about that though—not now, not with everything at risk. Casynox, Lyra, and Aurelie were all missing—likely forced into the darkest, dankest corner of the Summer Court.
The other two were already on horseback when I joined them outside. Sapphire glanced at me, her lips dry and eyes puffy. “Evander will allow us refuge in the castle for a few days.” When I gave her a knowing look, she winced and turned away. “He owes me that much.”
We wouldn’t be able to stay longer than two days, according to Evander, who promptly greeted us at the bailey gates. He was hesitant, but as Sapphire had estimated, his hands were tied. I guess that was expected when you slept around and disrespected your mate. She’d already been in one arrangement that resulted in infidelity.
I just hoped she didn’t fall into that trap again—even if it was her mate. Prince Evander was a decent man, would be an even more decent king, but a lover? No. He simply knew all the right words to say.
Azalea hadn’t even taken her cloak off when we were thrown in a room with cots lined against the wall. It was the servants’ quarters—I knew it had to be. We weren’t worth the more luxurious of chambers, apparently. Even his mate. Something about that roused anger in my belly, but I wasn’t going to act on it. Not with Aurelie’s situation clouding my judgment.
“They aren’t fools,” I muttered and threw my satchel on the cot closest to the door. “They know you’re human.”
Azalea sighed and took a seat. “I don’t care what they know. It’s not the crowned prince I’m worried about. It’s his little bees buzzing around.”
I rolled my eyes. “Figures. Worried about gossiping servants, but not your daughter.”
“Never did I say that,” she bit back.
“It’s what you didn’t say,” I snapped. I couldn’t help it—her negligence in this situation was gnawing at me. If she hadn’t been so stupid, Aurelie would have spent her growing years learning about magic from the most powerful sorceress still alive, save for the Elders tucked away in—well, wherever creatures like them existed. I doubted it was a lodge on the edge of town.
Part of me expected them to bury themselves in a cave, only waking when they needed to make judgment.
That part of me smiled. It was small, and the larger part of me felt guilty for the inkling of warmth that bubbled in my chest at the poor joke. Sapphire stepped in, capturing my attention, forcing the guilt down my throat.
“There’s a lot of resentment right now, and I don’t think we should act a fool and pretend it will go away for certain. But—but, if we want Aurelie back, which is the only common goal between you two right now, then you have to play nice and figure out a way to get along. Are you capable of doing that, Eero?”
I scowled but knew full well why she was singling me out. I wasn’t the sort to give up on a grudge. It took me two hundred years to accept my fate and crawl back to Novus, after all.
It would have been longer if Sapphire didn’t threaten dismemberment. Something along the lines of, ‘They may sever a finger for thieves, but I’ll sever a hand for cowardice. What’ll it be, Eero?’
If she wasn’t the way she was, I would have called her bluff, but she was serious. At the very least, I had all ten fingers still.
“I do not intend to waste my efforts on her if she refuses to admit her involvement in Aurelie’s downfall.”
“My involvement?” Azalea gasped and stood to her feet, finally removing the cloak. Her wavy brown hair was tousled in all directions, her amber eyes pointed at me like the tip of a dagger. “You speak loudly for a fae who should be dead.”
“Oh, there it is,” I hissed and faced her head-on. “You believe Yenira wasn’t in the wrong during my assassination attempt, do you? Is that why you saved her?”
“Keep her name out of your mouth!”
“Enough,” Sapphire boomed. “Azalea had no control of their queen’s sentencing. She could have trained her, told her the truth about her magic at the least…but do not blame her for any more than that. That is unfair, and even you know that.”
I flicked my gaze to Sapphire and frowned. “I will blame her as I see fit, and right now, she’s nothing more than a dirty little liar.” I returned to my cot and unhooked my sheathed dagger, letting it flop onto the pillow. “The only reason she’s here with us right now is because Aurelie would want it.”
Her name evoked silence. So much of it that I tensed and closed my eyes, breathing deeply to calm the nerves. I was making so many assumptions—about her whereabouts, about where Casynox was, whether he was alive. Lyra’s involvement was just about the only thing I wasn’t drawing immediate conclusions about, even if I should.
I just didn’t have the energy to add her to the equation.
“If you really wanted to help, Arcane Mistress,” I said, using her title as an insult, “you would go into that dungeon and interrogate Julius, just as Aurelie had intended.”
There was more silence, and I wondered if the hesitation was permanent. I scoffed at her cowardice and turned toward the exit doors, preparing to make my leave and find the Spring Queen, but Azalea’s small voice made me halt.
“Is he truly lost?” she asked. “I mean, has he lost himself?”
I turned over my shoulder and crossed my arms. “Why don’t you stop asking questions to me and go find out what your little soldier did to your daughter?”
A mask of terror washed over her, and for a moment, I felt the guilt claw back up my throat. I swallowed it, turned around, and walked out the doors. I didn’t have time for her remorse. I didn’t have time for the bickering. If she wanted to help, she would.
My sympathies would have to wait until I, at the very least, spoke with the Spring Queen and asked for her help once more.