Chapter 31 Two Little Words
Wren lifted another spoonful of oats and cream to her lips and blew on it gently before placing it on her tongue.
The sweetened mixture tasted faintly of cinnamon, which reminded Wren of trees shedding their leaves and huddling by the hearth with a blanket around her shoulders to keep warm.
It was a comforting meal, and she was grateful for it after the past few days that she had endured.
Her gaze drifted from the bowl cradled in her blanket-covered lap to the crackling hearth, then to the darkened window.
Earlier in the day, when Wren had awoken from her second slumber, Blossom opened the curtains.
There wasn’t much light to be let in, but it made the space feel more open.
Now, however, the dark nothingness drummed up fear in Wren.
Was someone watching her in the darkness?
Did her brother’s killer steal her journal to use against her, or had she made more than one enemy since arriving?
Wren didn’t know what reason the murderer would take the journal.
Knowing of her Curse would give them power over her, but she wasn’t sure how it would aid them in killing her.
She shivered and drew further into herself.
Perhaps it was a good idea to take lessons from Kierana after all.
A light knock on her door made her startle, but it was just Blossom.
The maid came in holding another letter.
Wren’s heart rate increased at the thought.
Castien’s invitation had been unexpected.
She was admittedly still recovering from her time asleep when she replied.
He might have found her horribly rude, but somehow she thought otherwise.
“Another letter, my lady,” Blossom presented.
Wren set her bowl on the night table and eagerly took the letter.
“Also,” Blossom added, and Wren paused with her thumbnail under the wax crest. “Miss Kierana has asked if you are up to company. She has been found innocent of all accusations and is anxious to check on your state.”
A small smile touched Wren’s lips. When she came to the island, she did not think she would make true friends.
She would not place all her trust in Kierana, but Wren thought that maybe she could garner a kinship with the woman.
It was not something she was used to, as she had not possessed any friends outside of her brother, but she was willing to give it a try.
“Let me see what Prince Valengard has replied with, and then you may let Kierana know I would love to have her company.”
Blossom smiled, and Wren felt her maid’s spirits lift like a blanket being unfurled in the breeze.
“Very well. I will tidy the room while you read,” Blossom said, then flitted over to Wren’s desk, which still had the contents of her school bag scattered across it.
Blossom had cleaned some of the disheveled chamber while Wren slept, but she told Wren that she hadn’t wanted to wake her, so she didn’t get much accomplished. Wren felt terrible for making more work for Blossom, but she hadn’t been able to see through her panic at the time.
Wren settled her back against the headboard and opened Castien’s letter.
Year 822, Week 36, Mira
Dear Wren,
I thought, based on how you cut short our last meeting, that you would appreciate a concise letter. Do forgive my folly in that presumption. I will endeavor to write lengthier letters in the future, since you so desire to read more of my script.
For now, I must beg of you to reconsider your decision and accept the humble request of a lowly prince. Will you please join me in the library tomorrow at ten in the morning?
Sincerely,
Castien
Wren’s lips parted in shock at his familiar tone.
Dear Wren, he’d written. She traced the words with her eyes, then the tip of her finger.
Her name looked different in his hand. She could not discern how it made her feel.
The rest of his letter was lined with sarcasm and ire, but those two little words seemed to stand out from the rest. He could have written any version of her name, or not addressed her at all.
And yet he chose to address her as if they had been writing letters for years.
“Will you be writing a letter in return?” Blossom asked, pulling Wren out of her reverie. “I can bring you the supplies again if you’d like to stay in bed.”
Wren had penned her last letter atop a tome in her lap. Blossom sealed it for her and delivered it to Castien’s butler, who had apparently been waiting in the foyer. Wren wondered if he was lingering out there right then.
“I should like to sit at my desk. I won’t make a mess for you,” Wren promised.
Blossom waved her hand. “Nonsense, Lady Wren, you should not be mindful of such things for my sake. Would you like assistance?”
“I feel much stronger. I believe I will be all right,” Wren answered with a reassuring smile.
She slid herself down off the bed and suppressed a shiver as her bare feet touched the cold floor.
In an effort to stave off the chills she was still plagued with, Wren pulled one of her blankets off the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders before padding over to her desk.
Blossom eyed her warily the entire time, and exuded relief once Wren was seated.
Wren took her quill from where it was propped up on a stand. Her gaze caught on the statue her brother had intended to gift her. Grief tightened her throat for a moment, but she forced her focus back on the letter.
Should she begin in the same fashion as him? It felt odd, given that she still did not know what his role was in the events involving Heron and now Kelda. However, this could be some sort of game. Wren did not want to back down from the challenge, whatever it was.
Year 822, Week 36, Mira
Dear Castien,
It is not a lengthy letter that I desire, so much as a respectful one. Yet again, you prove yourself lacking in the qualities of a gentleman.
But since you begged, I will agree to meet with you, if only out of hope that you will learn how to behave around a lady.
Your begrudging partner,
Wren
Wren sealed the letter with a satisfied smile. That would show him she was not one to cower in the face of provocation.
“Here you are, Blossom.”
Wren placed the letter in her maid’s waiting hand, then padded back to her bed. Now that the letter was written, she began to feel the effects of getting out of bed while still recovering. Her muscles felt tight and sore, as though she had been standing out in the snow for hours.
“I will deliver this and send for Miss Kierana as you requested. Is there anything else you require?”
Wren glanced at her empty cup. “Some more peppermint tea would be wonderful.”
Blossom smiled. “I shall order a full tea service for you and Miss Kierana.”
Wren’s heart warmed. The darkness outside her window seemed less menacing with the kindness of her maid and friend.
“Thank you.”
Blossom’s simple gray dress puffed out as she curtsied. She left the room without another word. Wren set her attention back on her cooling bowl of oats and cream. She was scraping up the last bite when there was a knock at her door.
“It’s Kierana,” her new friend’s voice was muffled, but still recognizable.
“Come in,” Wren called and set her bowl aside.
Kierana swept into the room along with her worries. Wren clenched her abdomen against the emotion. Blossom’s feelings had mellowed over the course of the day and had become easier to manage. Kierana was Wren’s first true test of strength. She found herself lacking.
“How are you feeling?” Kierana asked as she rushed to Wren’s bedside after closing the door. “You look well, are you well?”
Kierana sat in the same spot Blossom had earlier. She wore a long-sleeved academy uniform, with a deep burgundy sash tied around her waist and layers of gold necklaces. Wren felt underdressed in her pale pink nightgown and matching robe.
“I did not think you a mother hen type,” Wren jested, hoping it would help ease Kierana’s mind.
The idea worked. Wren began to breathe easier and relax again as the anxiety lifted.
“I am not a mother hen,” Kierana groused. “You collapsed onto the floor as though you had been struck or poisoned. It is natural to worry about such an occurrence.”
“I am sorry to have brought you concern. It is rare, but sometimes I have spells like that. After a night’s rest, I will be much improved.”
Kierana frowned. “Do they have any cause?”
Wren grasped for a plausible answer. Her gaze fell on Heron’s statue, and she hoped her brother would forgive her for lying to his friend.
“High emotions can bring it about. Thinking of Heron’s death might have been the cause.”
Guilt wracked Kierana, and as a result, Wren.
“I’m sorry. I know bringing up swordfighting made you think of him. I should have been more careful.”
Wren shook her head. She tucked her hands under the blankets and sank her nails into her palms.
“No,” she gritted out. “I was tired and stressed from classes. Our conversation was simply the match that lit the brush.”
Kierana’s guilt abated. Wren hoped her friend would be calmer for the remainder of their time together, or else she might have to cut it short.
Another knock came, and Blossom entered, balancing a tray with a teapot, cups, and a small tower of sandwiches and cookies.
Wren’s hunger was beginning to return, but she knew from experience that it was important to take things slow.
Blossom set the tea service on the bedside table and prepared each of the women their drink and a small plate of treats.
“Would you like me to tell you what’s been going on while you’ve been recovering?” Kierana asked, hesitation in her voice. “I don’t want to upset you further, but if I were you, I’d like to know.”
Wren took a sip of her tea. While it might be unwise given her general well-being, she needed to be apprised of the goings-on if she was to venture out tomorrow.
“Tell me everything.”