Chapter 13 Machinations
Black ink trailed down Castien’s wrist from his quill as he scrawled theories on his bedroom wall. A sharp rap of knuckles at the door indicated Heathford’s arrival.
“Your Highness, the Lord Valengard wishes an audience with you,” the butler intoned.
Castien waved his non-writing hand in admittance.
“If anyone else saw you like this, they would think you’ve gone mad,” Finn commented as he entered.
Castien did not bother turning from his work as he said, “Why are you here, Finn? If you have not conducted any reconnaissance on the girl, then I don’t care to see you at this moment.”
“She is in the assembly hall, if you must know, dear cousin. Likely being tortured by Westover as we speak. Also, she is not a girl. She’s a first-year, which would make her nineteen or twenty–a woman.”
Castien’s writing paused. “Why do you say she’s with Westover? Did you see her go to his office?”
Castien heard the distinct creak of the bed frame as Finn flung himself on Castien’s mussed bed. Finn let out a languished sigh.
“I saw her head up to the Headmaster’s tower, but she has not come back down to the ground level. Servants are bustling about the House of Adira, so I suspect she has made the unwise decision to meet with Westover in the meantime.”
Castien did not bother asking why Finn didn’t try to listen in on the meeting with Westover. There was no way to do so without being on display for the other professors, students, and staff.
“Did you get a good look at her? How did she seem?”
Castien took a step to the right and wrote a small note about Lady Kalyxi going to see Westover without taking time to rest from two weeks at sea. That predicated either confidence or stupidity.
“She has a similar complexion and hair color to her brother. She walked with all the stately elegance of a future duchess and wore a yellow gown that made her easy to spot in this dull place.”
Castien’s Gift scribbled a fact he had learned in his history of the Seven Havens course last semester in the air.
“Yellow is a mourning color on the Wild Holm,” Castien murmured and added it to the little information he had about Lady Wren Kalyxi. “There’s something about it representing a pure soul.”
The two were quiet for a moment as the weight of that settled upon them. A young woman’s brother was dead. It had been easier to separate emotion from the investigation when they weren’t faced with the impact of the loss.
“Professor Ivanhild was with her,” Finn filled the silence. “He seemed rather protective toward her, but I didn’t see them long before they disappeared up the north staircase. She also had a pretty lady’s maid with her. Nervous little thing, but that can be remedied.”
Castien shot a glare over his shoulder. “No.”
Finn chuckled. “It is not as fun to tease you when you’re in one of your moods.”
“Was there anything else of note?”
“I’m afraid that’s all I was able to gather on such short notice.”
“It would be good for you to run into her sometime this week. Give her time to settle in, then arrange a chance meeting,” Castien said as he turned from the wall to face his lounging cousin.
“What information are you looking for? She wasn’t on the island when her brother was murdered. I doubt she arranged for his murder in order to take his place here. I don’t see how involving her is beneficial.”
“We are not involving her.” Castien wiped the dripping ink onto his white shirt. “A woman who lost her brother doesn’t come to the place of his death without cause. I want to know why she’s here and what she knows.”
“She is the remaining heir in her family. I presume she is here to educate herself to take on that responsibility,” Finn said.
He sat up and squinted at the words Castien had written, then shook his head.
“You cannot think that she’s here for revenge. If someone murdered Heron, she has as little proof as we do to prove such a notion.”
Castien pointed his quill at Finn. “That is where you are wrong. Callalily said Heron’s journal and all of his belongings were shipped to the Wild Holm. Perhaps that journal was given to his younger sister. It might hold answers we don’t have.”
“And you think I’ll be able to charm her into giving it to me? My Gift does not extend that far.”
Finn’s Gift of charisma was one that was useful when it came to obtaining information.
His entire demeanor set people at ease and made them forget to be on their guard.
While Finn might doubt his abilities, Castien had seen firsthand how much power he wielded.
Nonetheless, he had no plans of relying on it.
“Of course not. I want you to gain her trust so that she will open up to you the way everyone else you speak to does. As for the journal, I will take care of that.”
“And how do you plan on doing that?”
“By going into her chambers when she is not there and searching for it,” Castien said plainly.
Finn tipped his head back in exasperation.
“Cas, are you sure about this? We have found nothing concrete to lead us to believe that Heron was killed by someone other than a cryptura. I know you don’t like unfinished puzzles, but that doesn’t mean you should sort through a grieving woman’s private belongings.”
“There is plenty of evidence to support suspicion about the circumstances of Heron’s death,” Castien defended.
“And his sister showing up here adds to that evidence. I am not fond of these circumstances either, Finn, but I have to think of what’s best for the future of the Order.
If Heron was murdered, the Order could be a target.
And if Wren has a vendetta, it could lead her to discover things she shouldn’t. ”
Finn ran a hand through his hair. “Very well. I shall endeavor to make her acquaintance this week.” He stood to go. “Do try and get some sleep tonight. The shadows beneath your eyes are as dark as the ink on the walls.”
Sleep would come with answers, but Finn ought not hear that. He would only worry, in his own pestering way, and Castien didn’t need that. He needed Finn to find a lead for them to latch on to.
“Thank you,” Castien replied. “I’ll see you in the dining hall this evening.”
“I despise Princess Calypsia, but I am grateful to her that she’s getting you out of your chambers. The less you interact with people, the more surly you get.”
Castien thought the opposite, but it didn't matter. He had to make an appearance tonight, and likely many more times over the semester. It was the only way he could observe the goings-on of the academy. Relying on others, even those he trusted like Finn, was not ideal. They couldn’t discern what his Gift could.
Castien turned back to his wall of postulation. Finn left, and Castien thought he heard him say something to Heathford about making the prince more presentable before dinner.
“Why are you here, Lady Wren Kalyxi?” Castien murmured.
None of the theories would be confirmed without further evidence.
It seemed all his Gift had been able to bring yet again were more questions.
There were more opportunities for information with Heron’s sister present, but more pressure as well.
Castien rolled his tense shoulders and tipped his head from one side to the other.
He would uncover the truth and protect the Order.
He’d come this far. He would not fail his family legacy. Not now, not ever.