Chapter 40
I lean against the bookshelves with my arms folded, watching as Rydian makes another x across the map, crossing out one of the tunnels. We’ve discovered five, including the one by the kitchens near the ballroom that I happened to discover when running into Ren.
Ivy and I Veiled into the tunnels a couple of hours ago, remaining quiet and unseen. Although I’ve finally been able to hold myself in the Veil for extended periods of time, it quickly drains me. We just completed our seventh walkthrough, unable to find anything.
But something is missing. We just can’t figure it out.
“This one,” Ren says, pointing to the map, dark hair falling over his brow, “leads to the dungeons, but those were empty. No need to keep anyone in there when he has us do his dirty work.” He scratches the back of his head.
“What about this one?” Orin asks. “Maybe there’s a hidden entrance to another location in the tunnel behind the throne.”
Ivy sighs. “We checked. No matter how many times I’m going to feel up one of those dingy walls, there’s nothing there.” Her voice drips with irritation.
We’re all frustrated, and after having the map for a little over a full month, we still haven’t found anything regarding my mother’s whereabouts. I’m almost convinced she’s not there—but the feeling in the pit of my stomach tells me my thought is wrong.
She’s in there, but where?
Rydian leans forward on his hands, then drops his head, defeat and exhaustion coating his features. He sighs. I shake my head and push myself off the shelves without a word, turning for the stairs. If we’re going to sit around, we might as well have some tea or something.
Starting the kettle, I grab a couple of mugs when I suddenly feel Rydian step behind me. My breath hitches at the closeness.
“Talk to me,” he says quietly, brushing my hair off my neck, and I freeze at his touch. It’s as if he knows the mental turmoil going through my head. “You’ve hardly said anything since you and Ivy arrived. What’s wrong?”
I shake my head, placing the mugs on the counter as the porcelain clinks against it. He grips my shoulders and forces me to face him, tilting my chin up. He studies me, then slides his hand to the back of my neck before leaning down, softly grazing his lips against mine. A question.
And against my better judgment, I welcome it.
My fingers graze the hair at the base of his neck, leaving him to let out a soft groan. Over the last week, I’ve intentionally stayed at the castle and have chosen to keep my distance—emotionally and physically. Especially after what I discovered.
“Talk to me,” he repeats, his voice warm and inviting.
I sigh and step back, my frustration suddenly bubbling over.
“I just—I know she’s there, Rydian. I can feel it.
Something is missing, and I’m getting impatient.
What else are we going to do? We’re working, yes, but we have nothing to go off of.
Nothing,” I say firmly, turning to snatch the kettle off the stove.
“I know,” he mutters. “I’m frustrated too. We’ll figure it out. We just have to be patient a little longer.”
He says his words so confidently, and I’m reminded that this is the closest he’s ever gotten to discovering the whereabouts of my mother. After twenty years of searching, his eyes continue to spark with hope.
“How do you do that?” I ask, and his brows knit together. “Remain hopeful. After all these years, you still search.”
His gaze only softens. “Because my hope led me to you, and I refuse to give up on your mother. She deserves that, don’t you think?”
I study him and find myself nodding because he’s right. She does deserve that, and if it weren’t for him, I would never know how crooked King Elion is. I walk past and up the steps again, reaching the top only to find Ivy rolling her own copy of the map with the updated marks.
“Orin and I will head back to Aurelia to study the map further with the council now that it’s updated.
We can be back in a few days to continue the search.
Maybe we can discuss the options of searching outside of the castle.
Find out if King Elion has any private locations that only he has access to. ”
Then Orin clears his throat. “Wayd and Kaeda are becoming… impatient. What do you want me to tell them? They offered to help.”
My brows furrow when Rydian’s jaw clenches so tight it looks like he’ll shatter teeth. Like the sound of those two names already irritates him.
“Tell them if they step foot in this realm, it’ll be the last time they do it. A little longer,” Rydian says, but Orin only chuckles and nods. “I’ll see both of you in a few days. Send Ire if you discover anything while you’re there.”
They nod, Veiling out of the loft, most likely already at the border. Our gazes swivel to Ren standing at the other end of the table, hands in his pockets. A sudden wave of awkward tension passes through the air, and I find myself fighting the urge to fidget.
Ren has remained quiet about both my power and my past whereabouts since he caught me almost two weeks ago, and I don’t know what to make of it. His knowing gaze meets mine.
“I think I’ll head back to the castle,” Ren says finally, stepping around the table.
“I can Veil you in,” I say, placing my mug down.
“No need. I want to walk.”
With my back to Rydian, my eyes narrow. Whether it’s intentional or not, Ren leaving me alone with Rydian is surely a bad idea, and he knows it. What is he trying to do?
Ren smirks, catching my expression. “You know, I think the chill air is just what I need to cool down. See you tomorrow.”
I fight a groan, watching as he descends the stairs, when I have the sudden urge to chuck my mug right at his head. Within seconds, he exits the loft, and I face Rydian in silence.
“I guess we’re done for the night. I’ll need to go back to the castle—I have training with Ezra in the morning.”
Rydian narrows his eyes slightly, stepping into me and closing the distance. “Are you lying to me, little fawn?” Gods, does he know?
“No.” I swallow, eyes locking on him.
“I thought Ren said Ezra left the castle?”
Oh. I exhale and let out an uncomfortable laugh. “I must’ve forgotten. Still, I should go back tonight and keep up with the routine. I wouldn’t want anyone searching for me, let alone King Elion.”
“You’re avoiding me.” His gaze flicks to my lips.
Then he crowds me, slowly walking forward, forcing me to stumble into the table.
He reads me like a damn book. “Why don’t you stay tonight?
I can light a fire, and we can have a glass of whiskey—relax.
You need rest, especially after spending so much time in the Veil earlier. ” I hate it when he makes sense.
“I don’t have any change of clothes,” I say.
“Who needs clothes?” He chuckles again just as my eyes snap up. “Relax, I’ll lend you one of my shirts. You can have the bed if you want. I’ll sleep on the settee.”
And although I smirk, the composure I’m barely holding together almost cracks under his stare. “Fine. I’ll stay if it means you’ll get out of my face.” I lift a brow.
He steps back, hands up in mock surrender with a smug grin. “I’ll be in the bath. Come down when you’re ready.” He grabs both our mugs, then stalks past, descending the stairs.
I frown at the thought of him not sharing a bed with me, listening as he places the mugs into the basin below with a clink. His boots thud against the brick floor before entering the bathing chamber below.
For a moment, I chew on the inside of my lip as the weight of everything begins to press down. The silence in the air feels heavier somehow, and I hate where my thoughts go when I’m alone.
My mother. Who we’ve continued to search for, yet everything we could find has led us nowhere. I shove down the dull ache forming in my chest as it’s easier than admitting defeat. Because that’s what it’s starting to feel like.
And Theo. Ren has kept tabs on him since he was given to King Elion a month ago.
Thankfully, I was right in my assumption of how Theo would remain unharmed…
for now. Last we heard, he was working in the kitchens with the rest of the staff while also training with some of the orphans in the brotherhood.
My thoughts begin to spiral, leading me down an endless path of chaos whirling in my head. Breath catches in my throat, feeling as though I can hardly breathe. With a shaky exhale, I find the courage to saunter down the steps even though my turmoil continues to simmer.
My steps remain light as I walk to the kitchenette for water, just past the bathing chamber. That’s when I notice the door was left slightly ajar.
I arch a brow with a hum, curiosity getting the best of me when I slow my pace. A quick glance through the small gap in the door has my steps faltering, falling silent as I’m suddenly captivated by the massive king before me.
Dammit, I shouldn’t have stopped.
My lip pulls between my teeth as I study him. With his back to me, he rinses in the tub before dropping his head. His arm reaches across his back, scrubbing himself.
I can’t help but stare, practically breathless, as the muscles feather and ripple with each movement. I’m captivated by every strong muscle on his body in the soft lighting of the chamber.
Ink snakes up his neck, and I can’t help but become dazed at the sight of him. My eyes drift when I notice it—just beneath the damp strands of his dark auburn hair, located at the nape of his neck.
Is that what I think it is?
My breath hitches, freezing at the sight of it.
But he must sense me because his movements come to an abrupt halt, stopping mid-scrub.
The stone wall beside me suddenly hits my back, hiding me as I clamp my eyes shut. My chest thumps erratically, adrenaline shooting through me even in my attempt to control my breathing. Only it’s not slowing.
Water suddenly sloshes, hitting the floor in loud splatters, probably due to him standing.
“Isa,” he calls out.
My eyes fly open, and I force myself to grasp any sort of composure while I remain against the wall.
Slowing my breathing, I grasp the mask of the assassin beneath the surface and turn the corner.
A forced, tight smile lines my mouth just as he wraps a towel around his waist. Water drips down his muscled chest when I meet his gaze.
“I didn’t mean to leave the door open… What did you see?” he asks warily, scanning my face for any sign of recognition or betrayal perhaps.
Because that’s what it feels like at this moment—betrayal. He chose not to tell me. Not that he owes me anything, but after what we’ve shared together these last few weeks… it hurts a little.
His eyes narrow slightly, as if he’s bracing for the worst possible reaction from me. Water drips from his lashes, landing on the curve of his scarred lip. Though I remain silent, unable to form the right words.
My eyes flick behind him to the mirror, spotting the black patch behind his right ear, confirming what I saw just a moment ago. I realize that all this time I’ve never truly seen the back of his head, not really.
Not to mention, it looks as if it was cut shorter than the rest of his hair, like he was intentionally hiding it.
His mark.