Chapter 28 Time to Hunt
Castien took a sip of his everleaf tea and watched Headmaster Acanthia over the rim.
It was his fourth cup since reading Wren’s journal and the events that followed.
Dawn had come and gone in the time since, though one could not tell given the ever-dreary state of the island.
Castien recalled Wren’s disdain for the weather, and it drew his mind back to her.
Was she all right? Had she heard the news?
Discovered that her journal had been stolen?
“You attended Adira’s ball with Miss Thornspire, did you not?” the headmaster asked.
“Yes, I did,” Castien answered in a neutral tone.
He set his tea next to the breakfast tray Heathford had brought to the parlor.
The headmaster and a few other professors had been interviewing students in the parlor since they arrived a handful of hours prior.
Finn had gone before Castien and hadn’t seemed the slightest bit ruffled by the experience.
But Finn could don a mask just as well as Castien. He simply smiled more than Castien.
Next to Castien’s tea was a thick slice of bread smeared with butter.
Beside it were small pots of various jams and honey.
The amber liquid made him recall Wren’s journal.
She wrote of her love of honeycakes. It was one of the few positive things she noted.
He had never tasted one, but reading her description made him crave the sweet pastry.
Castien forced his attention back to the matter at hand. He needed to focus, but it was difficult with thoughts of Wren constantly tugging at his mind.
“Were you two courting?”
Castien resisted the urge to scoff at the pathetic questions in this interrogation. He had witnesses confirming his presence in his chambers for the entire evening, and no known connection beyond a few dances with the victim. They were wasting time by talking to him, both his and theirs.
“No, we were not. We went to the ball to please our families, but remained distant acquaintances after that.”
Castien leaned over the table in front of the burgundy sofa he sat on and drizzled honey over his toast. He wanted them to see how unaffected he was.
It was a dangerous card to play, because if he was too nonchalant, they’d be suspicious, but if he cared too much, it would have the same result.
He wanted to be out of the academy’s eye so he could conduct his investigation in peace.
“I see.” Headmaster Acanthia looked at her companions. One of the guards nodded. “Well, we will leave you to your breakfast. Please let us know if you come across any information that would be of benefit to our investigation.”
Castien tipped his head in assent. “I hope this matter is put to rest soon.”
The headmaster let out a sigh borne of sleepless nights and bruised pride. “As do I.” She stood and ran her hands over her black skirts. “Let us make our way back to the assembly. Send word to the others to join us,” Headmaster Acanthia instructed one of the younger guards.
“Yes, Headmaster,” he said in a gruff tone that did not match the youthfulness of his appearance. His black and silver uniform was a touch too big in the shoulders, and it made him look as though he’d stolen it.
The investigation party left, following the headmaster like ducklings chasing after their mother.
Castien took a bite of his toast. The floral sweetness of the honey mixed with the salty butter and sour bread in a delicious combination.
His hunger crescendoed, and he found himself ravenously consuming his breakfast of bread, cheese, and smoked fish.
He was savoring the last bite of honey toast, honeycakes on his mind, when Finn entered the parlor.
“Was your interview as much of a waste of time as mine was?” Finn asked. His tone was bemused, but between his mussed hair and the dark rings under his eyes, Castien could tell his cousin was not in the best of spirits.
“They will never find the killer with such weak questions,” Castien said before taking another sip of his now lukewarm tea.
At this stage, he was unsure if the tea was aiding in his staying alert, but he kept going in case it was. He couldn’t sleep yet, not when there was so much to learn.
“Unlike our prestigious headmaster, I have uncovered some things of worth, if you’d like to hear them.”
Castien’s gaze flicked to the door. It was closed, but with how on edge everyone was bound to be, he did not want to chance being overheard.
“Everyone in the house is asleep or taking breakfast in their rooms,” Finn informed him. “There is a guard posted outside of the house, though he is rather hopeless in keeping people in or out, as I have done both more than once this morning.”
Castien shook his head with disdain. “Pathetic. When all of this is over, we will have to improve upon the security measures.”
“I will welcome the task, specifically because it will mark an end to this calamity.” Finn let out an uncharacteristic sigh. “We must find them, Castien. We can’t lose anyone else.”
“I know.” Castien gestured to him with his palm facing up. “Tell me what you’ve learned.”
Finn sat across from Castien in the tufted black leather chair that the headmaster had previously occupied. He was in his usual black academy trousers, with a white nightshirt that hung loose around his knees. The fabric billowed as he sat.
“I went to the kitchens this morning to talk to the servants. That was quite fruitful,” Finn began.
“I heard that one of the gardeners found Kelda propped up against the Wall behind the gardens, in her uniform, with her chest cut open. Her heart was missing, and she was holding a rose in her left hand.”
Castien’s brow furrowed. “The only connections I can see between her death and Heron’s are that they were cut open, but the mimicta led us to believe it was the one that did that to Heron.”
Had someone cut Heron open, and then the mimicta came? But if that was the case, why was he outside the Wall while Kelda was inside and her body arranged to be found?
Finn pushed a hand through his hair. “I can’t make sense of it. Heron seemed to be staged to resemble an accident, while Kelda is the opposite,” Finn voiced Castien’s thoughts.
“We’re dealing with someone deranged. While I agree there has to be a connection, the actions of someone capable of such horrors likely won’t be sensible,” Castien said. “Did you learn anything else?”
Finn’s expression shifted to something more cautious. He shifted in the chair and tugged on his open collar.
“Let me begin by saying that she’s all right,” Finn said carefully.
Castien need not ask who. His heart leapt in his chest. He gripped the edge of the sofa.
“After the kitchens, I went to House of Adira and spoke with Alysia. She said that an investigation party arrived late last night and entered the drawing room to find Kierana standing over Wren with a sword.”
Castien came out of his seat. Finn raised a hand. He slowly lowered himself back down, realizing how irrational his reaction must have looked.
“Apparently, things weren’t how they appeared.
Alysia had come down the stairs during all the commotion and saw Wren being carried out while they questioned a furious Kierana.
I located Wren’s lady’s maid after that, and she told me Wren was ill, and that she had fainted.
It is something that happens to her on occasion. ”
Castien’s Gift wrote theories in the air and brought up bits and pieces of her journal. Wren sensed emotions, and feelings of panic would have been high last night. The tension was palpable to Castien even without Wren’s Gift. She could have become overwhelmed by the sensations.
There was no reason strong enough to prompt Castien to share Wren’s Gift with his cousin.
The information was useful, but it wasn’t so vital to their investigation that it warranted betraying Wren’s privacy again.
Castien also felt a strange possessiveness over the knowledge.
There was a quickening in his heart whenever he considered sharing portions of the journal.
Her words belonged to him now, and no one else would have the privilege of reading them.
“While she wasn’t accepting visitors, I managed to charm my way to her chamber door and catch a glimpse of her when Blossom went inside. I didn’t see much, but she appeared to be sleeping.”
Castien willed himself to stay still. His entire being was screaming at him to run to her and see for himself how she was doing.
The sensation defied every morsel of common sense he possessed, and yet it was as though an inferno had been set ablaze within him.
It burned hot and bright and would not be easily put out.
“Does House of Adira have a guard?” Castien asked in a rough tone.
Finn grimaced. “He’s as competent as the one outside our house.”
“The most prestigious academy in the Seven Havens, and they cannot hire worthy protection for their so-called precious students,” Castien growled.
He would have to find a way to ensure Wren’s safety, as well as that of others under his care.
“Where is Percilean?” Castien asked as he thought of his charge.
“He’s asleep in his room, last I checked,” Finn said. Exhaustion made his expression droop. “His room is even more of a wreck than yours. There are blueprints everywhere, it’s maddening.”
Finn appeared to the world as a carefree, flirtatious lord, but he was actually rather particular about the state of his chambers.
He had a place for every item he owned. If anything was ever moved, even a hair to the right or left, he noticed.
Castien suspected his cleanliness derived from Finn’s father being the commander of the Lucent Enclave armies.
Castien’s uncle was the definition of meticulous.
“Now that everyone is accounted for, and information has been obtained, I think it would be appropriate to get some rest,” Castien said as he eyed his cousin’s bruise-like undereyes.
Finn looked relieved, but still checked, “Are you sure? I can make a few more rounds while the news is still fresh.”
Castien shook his head. “I have plenty to work with. Get some sleep. I’ll send for you if I need anything.”
“I will take your offer because I have little energy to refuse,” Finn said with a breathy laugh. “I’ll come by your chambers when I wake up if you don’t call for me before then.”
Finn pushed out of the chair he was slouched in and stumbled to the door.
Alone again, Castien leaned back into the couch and closed his eyes. Not to rest, for he would not get to do that for some time, but to shut out external stimuli while his Gift worked.
There were more loose threads and unexplainable knots than ever before.
Castien wanted to scream, to throw something.
He was tired of dead ends. He wanted answers.
He needed them. Pale blonde curls and bright blue eyes infiltrated his mind once more.
He would succeed. Not just for his pride, or for the Order, but for her.
Castien blinked open his eyes again, then stood. It was time to hunt.