Chapter 26
CHAPTER
Sabine
As Sabine hurried through the linden and oleander-dotted walkways, rain clung to her skin like an accusation, making her wish she’d stayed home rather than trudging through the Commercial Terraces to deliver news that would ruin someone’s day.
Possibly their lives.
Normally, Ellie would’ve insisted on accompanying Sabine on such an errand, but today she had excused herself to see her brother. Apparently, he was in Ilvarenne for a few days, conducting business for his employer.
It suited Sabine just fine. She would rather have delivered such news in solitude.
Calloway & Son sat on Foreman’s Row, at the corner of two canals in the blacksmith’s annex.
Sabine had no idea how Virelle ended up here, of all places.
But when a young woman with the same dark hair and light green eyes as Virelle appeared at the door, she started to piece the puzzle together.
The woman’s eyes shifted to the mark visible under Sabine’s collarbone and widened.
“You must be Sabine Almarien,” the woman said. Sabine fought with a scowl. Even someone living among the commoners knew her by her mark alone.
“I’m here to see Miss Celastra.”
“I shall see if she’s receiving,” the woman who had to be Virelle’s sister said before excusing herself.
Moments later, Virelle appeared at the door in a dressing gown of sage silk, tied around her waist with a floral-embroidered sash. The unguardedness of her appearance—hair loose down her back, faint freckles showing on her powder-free face—bloomed a kernel of warmth in Sabine’s chest.
“Sabine!” Virelle reached for the other lady’s hands. “How unexpected.”
The house didn’t seem to have a proper parlor, so Virelle led her to the kitchen instead. It was small but welcoming, filled with the scent of stew cooking and dotted with vases of fresh flowers.
“I hope you’ll forgive the intrusion,” Sabine said as they settled on the window nook bench, facing each other, knees brushing. “I need to share something with you that cannot be spoken of in public.”
Virelle’s posture straightened. “Does this involve Marianne?”
“Among other things, yes.” Sabine chose her words as carefully as if she were picking the pins of a lock. “Remember how you asked me to keep your mark a secret?”
Something softened in Virelle’s eyes. “Of course I do. You’ve kept your word.”
Sabine nodded. “Now, I need you to make the same promise to me. What I tell you cannot leave this room.”
Virelle displayed no hesitation in agreeing. Silence stretched between them as Sabine searched for the right words, punctuated by the pattering of rain against the window and the soft tick of a mantel clock.
“The Registry asked Lord Vaelros to erase witnesses’ memories after her death,” she said finally. “As far as everyone is concerned, the couple never bore a mark at all.”
Virelle’s brows furrowed, causing a wrinkle on her otherwise alabaster smooth forehead. “I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean. My memories of their mark are perfectly intact.”
Sabine held her gaze. “That is because I asked Lord Vaelros to spare them.”
Color drained from Virelle’s face like water from a broken vessel. “So Lord Vaelros’s affinity, it can…”
“I am told it’s the least of what he can do.” She leaned forward. “The three of us are the only ones who remember the truth.”
Virelle’s hand rose to her chest, where Sabine knew she hid her mark. “Why would they—”
“Because someone is hunting marked pairs, and the Registry would rather bury the truth than admit it.” The words felt dense like a mouthful of ash. “The Bennetts? They bore a mark, too. Erased as well.”
Virelle turned to look outside the window. For a moment, they stayed in silence. When she turned back to Sabine, her eyes were glassy with unshed tears. “Why are you telling me this?”
The question hung between them, though Sabine suspected Virelle already knew the answer.
“Because you and whoever is your mark’s match are in danger. We still don’t know how they are deciding who to murder, but our best bet at staying alive is to avoid a blood vow at all costs.”
Virelle pulled her hands from Sabine’s to smooth nonexistent wrinkles on her dressing gown. “Does Caelen know this already?”
Did Virelle fear for Caelen’s life?
“I would assume so, yes. He retrieved some key evidence with us. And Lord Vaelros is quite forthcoming with him.”
To her absolute surprise, Virelle burst out laughing, her head thrown back, tears pooling at the corner of her eyes.
Sabine blinked a few times, as though her friend was a mirage that would soon magically disappear and return to being a reasonable person.
Clearly, that was not the case. “What is happening here?”
Virelle wiped the tears from her eyes. “I assume you know Caelen is my mark’s match?”
“I’d figured as much, yes.”
“I’m going to marry him, Sabine,” Virelle said, the words rushing out of her.
Sabine’s throat went dry. “So he… proposed?”
Virelle giggled. “Oh, on the contrary. He left me.”
“I… don’t believe I understand.”
Virelle huffed, waving as if to dismiss the notion. “Neither did I. Boys are so complicated.” Then, she squeezed Sabine’s hands in hers. “But you’ve made everything clear for me, my dear friend. Thank you. You might’ve saved my happily ever after.”
“Virelle, as your friend, I must plead with you not to go through with a blood vow,” Sabine said. “There’s a murderer on the loose who is targeting marked pairs.”
But resistance already hardened in Virelle’s gaze, the determination of a young person thinking themselves beyond death’s grasp. “Except neither Caelen nor I have mentioned our marks to anyone outside of yourself or Lord Vaelros. How would anyone know to murder us?”
“What if the Registry has a list of everyone they’ve marked?”
“That would imply the Registry itself is murdering marked pairs.”
Sabine bit her lip, but didn’t deny it.
“That is madness, Sabine! Whyever would the Registry do such a thing? After investing so much in the marks themselves?” Virelle sat up taller and taller as she spoke, as if finding reason in her own argument.
“The marks were created to combat the Fade, were they not? What good reason would the Registry have to erase all that hard work by killing those they marked?”
“I don’t…”
“Furthermore,” Virelle continued, “why would they then go through the trouble of erasing memories? Not that I support their actions, mind you, but that action only stands to reason in the name of protecting their innovation.”
Virelle’s questions were not unfounded in their skepticism. Sabine herself had to admit she didn’t have all the answers. But the fundamental truth could not be ignored: marked couples kept dying.
“I may not have all the evidence, Virelle, but I understand death,” Sabine said quietly. “And your cousin is dead. The Bennetts are dead. I just don’t want you or Caelen to be next. I care about you both.”
Virelle shook her head forcefully. “Their deaths were tragic, to be sure, but they cannot prove Caelen and I—or Lord Vaelros and yourself, for that matter—are bound for the same fate. We know the risk of the marks, thanks to you. We can defend ourselves, seek help—”
“From whom? The Registry? The same one that has been trying to bury the truth all along?”
Virelle flinched as if burned, leaning back with her eyes wide and a slight tremor to her bottom lip.
“What would you have me do, then? Refuse the only man I’ve ever fallen for because of possibilities?” Her voice cracked. “Live in terror of a mark I cannot remove? At least with Caelen by my side, I won’t face whatever comes alone.”
The anguish cut through Sabine’s frustration. When she looked at Virelle, she saw herself reflected in the desperation, in the impossible choice with no good outcomes.
Sabine curled into her shoulders. “I wish I could offer easy answers. All I can say is that knowledge, however terrible, is better than ignorance. It allows us choices, even though meager.”
“With one fundamental difference,” Virelle said, pensive eyes finding the canal outside the window again. “I’m willing to admit I’d rather risk death with Caelen than guarantee a lifetime without him. What of your heart, Sabine? Will you still have me believe you don’t care for Lord Vaelros?”
The words sliced Sabine like a thousand paper cuts. Matters of the heart had always been frivolous, reserved for people in more privileged positions than herself.
And yet…
No, Sabine could not entertain silly notions of happy-ever-afters. They only worked in storybooks, and this was more of a nightmare.
“I have Liora to think of. A valenhold depending on me. I cannot afford to choose any other option but survival.”
Virelle reached for Sabine’s arm, gently stroking it like a mother would with a hurt child.
“What a burden it must be, my dear friend, to carry everyone’s obligations as if they were your own.
” Her hand traveled lower, squeezing Sabine’s fingers tightly again.
“I know you are trying to protect me, too. And truly, I am grateful for the warning. But my burden is not yours to bear. Trust I am making my choice with open eyes.”
She rose then, smoothing her dressing gown once more. “I will be careful. But I cannot let fear rob me of the only happiness I’ve found in five cycles on the market.”
Sabine followed, standing before her friend. “Then I suppose prudence is all I can ask for, indeed.” She held Virelle’s shoulders. “Promise that if you notice anything odd, anything at all, you’ll come to me immediately.”
“I promise. And of course, you shall offer me the same courtesy. We’re in this together, you know?”
Sabine nodded, her throat suddenly too tight for words, and pulled Virelle into a hug.