CHAPTER 9 #2
A tense line appeared on his forehead, but at least his tone was calm. “That is a fair ask. I’ll try not to do that again.”
I squinted at him, scanning the lord’s demeanour for any signs of deception. I found none. “Good.”
My shoulders loosened. It might be a start. A truce that could lead to a somewhat decent relationship and reduce the risk to my life in the coming year. I wondered if he thought the same, since he looked more at ease too.
“So,” I murmured, “do you have a book about those nightmarish creatures?”
◆◆◆
The undead beast looked so . . . wrong, its four limbs draped in patches of tattered black pelage that jutted against ivory bones. Wrong that such a thing should belong to the world of the living.
The Archive of Natural and Supernatural Beings was a disturbing read that promised nightmares in the dark hours of the night, should I ever find respite in sleep again after the thorough explanation of each creature, like the Grim.
Since he gave me this book in his study, I hadn’t seen the Mage Lord, who, I’d heard, had gone with Gwinifer to a battle mage post because of some security problem. That was all I’d heard, all I was trusted to know.
Finnegan still hadn’t returned since leaving for the fair and visiting my family, and there’d been no news from the emissary yet.
So I read about the dreadful description of the Grim, a creature that would only die with a strike to its heart, its last living part.
Yet, it was the next creature that sent chills slithering down my spine and my pulse picking up.
The supernatural, hostile entity that was bringing harm to their towns, igniting curfews and fear.
Wraiths had greyish, emaciated bodies with elongated limbs and claw-like fingers.
Their abnormally large maws housed no teeth as they didn’t need to chew, only suck the life from their victims, watching somehow, despite the empty sockets with no eyes.
It was with no small amount of fear that I kept my focus on the pages, my body numbing at what I read next.
A Wraith is born from one of its victims, transformed into a revenant that relentlessly hunts for power.
Born from its victim. A person.
How could a person become that?
I shoved back the hollowness and dread brewing inside me.
This was an effective distraction. I was not thinking about Father and Joy and whether Finnegan had already met them, given them the draught.
In all the bedtime stories I’d heard as a child, never had any monster triggered this much trembling in my hands, especially as I found that the creature could best a mageborn just as it was prone to becoming its ally if it attended to its interests. If it granted it more power.
There was no new information on Strzygas that I hadn’t found out for myself—no useful information, at least—including how they were known for prowling during the night, as their pale skin burnt in the light of the sun.
Bathing.
I should bathe to wash away the cold sweat that formed on my skin after way too much time reading this damn book. I needed it out of my head.
I’d learned by now to ask for what I needed aloud, and my room would provide it, just as it had provided the satchel and its contents that I brought to the Northern Forest.
After my bath, I asked the room for clothes instead of choosing my own. A drawer slid open, revealing a burgundy velvet dress with long sleeves, a fitted waist, and a flared, ankle-length skirt.
Chatting with my furniture might be a new level of insane.
As I brushed my hair in front of the mirror, twisting strands of copper around my fingers, a few items appeared on the dresser. A rose lipstick and powder matching my skin tone.
“Is this a hint?” I asked, amused.
“Yes, and you should take it,” came Gwinifer’s voice, making me jump.
Turning, I found her in the doorway, dressed in a long black skirt, a scarlet sweater, and a black leather jacket.
I frowned. “Did you knock?”
She shrugged. “The room told me you were decent.” When I lifted my brows at her, she asked, “Do you expect us to knock? What are you, a queen?”
I blinked. So they don’t have boundaries or manners. Great.
“Are you using those?” she asked, gesturing to the cosmetics on the dresser.
“I don’t really think I need it.”
“Nobody said you need it, Red. I just thought you might like it,” she said with a playful edge in her voice. She was wearing a red lip colour and a slightly darker shade over her eyelids. It suited her.
“Is everything all right? With the border,” I asked, watching her from the mirror. She must have arrived a few hours ago, which meant that Reagan might be back as well. “I heard you had a security problem.”
She stopped behind me, casually folding her arms and resting her weight on one leg. “Everything is fine,” she answered, flashing her brows and smirking. “And I’m feeling generous.”
“So you brought the powder and these other things for me?” I guessed. She nodded, as if it were obvious, which somehow surprised me all the same.
“It’s my peace offering. Though I thought about bringing you Reagan’s head, but I hear you’re quite fond of him now.”
“Who told you that?” I asked, looking at her through the mirror, with a bored expression on my face.
“He said he’s already won the human over.”
Ass.
“One civil conversation, and he thinks he’s won me over?”
She chuckled, handing me the rose lipstick. “I thought as much. Now put this on and let’s go to dinner. I’m starving.”
Peering at her, I couldn’t find any reason why she would offer me this or even bother, and I very much doubted she would give me a straight answer if I asked. The only reason I could fathom was kindness, and that unsettled me. I decided to accept and turned back to the cosmetics.
“I don’t usually darken my lashes,” I admitted, lifting the small black flask. “I’ll just make a mess.”
Gwinifer leaned in, a smug smile playing on her lips. “Then allow me.”
◆◆◆
Gwinifer had painted my lips a soft rose that accented the freckles on my nose and cheeks. My lashes were darker and longer, making my hazel eyes stand out. The changes were subtle, almost imperceptible, but I could see the difference.
We entered the dining room together, where the rest of the castle staff was already gathered, including Finn and Reagan.
My heart raced at the sight of the emissary, and I held the urge to ask about my family right at the door.
He seemed relaxed, resting his back against the chair, his smile soft but closed-lipped. I hoped this was a good sign.
Gwinifer gave me a meaningful look, and with a sigh, I followed her.
On our way there, she asked if I was going to act like a coward and seclude myself on the far side of the table again. The insult was sheer provocation, yet I still gave in, maybe because now I had the feeling—or illusion—that my life was not at such risk as before.
So I took the seat she’d skipped, between her and Reagan, invisible hands pulling the chair for me.
“Don’t you look like a siren, Jane,” Cerridwen murmured with an approving smile. She wore a sophisticated black dress paired with a grey scarf draped over her arms, which made her look sharp and classy.
“A what?” I asked, sitting down as Gwinifer did the same.
“A siren,” Gwinifer echoed. “She’s trying to compliment you, but Cerridwen hasn’t given or received a compliment in years. She’s forgotten what they should sound like.”
Cerridwen rolled her eyes at the battle mage. Barracus raised his eyebrows, looking as amused as I thought possible for him.
The brush of phantom fingers rested on my nape, and I chose to pretend I didn’t notice.
“Siren as a compliment?” I asked, settling into my chair and squinting at her. “I thought they were ugly and evil. Creatures who lured sailors to their doom with their singing.”
“And with their eyes,” Barracus added. He must have been in a good mood today.
The only reaction I noticed from Reagan was his slightly surprised, assessing gaze following me. To be fair, it was the first time I’d sat beside him, which might have explained it.
“I see you’ve started the book already,” Reagan said with a subtle clearing of his throat, his sun-kissed forearms shifting with muscle as he leaned them over the table.
Up close, his crisp scent hit me: wood and mint.
His black cotton sweater fit snugly enough to hint at the firm chest beneath.
A few straight strands of brown hair fell over the curve of his eyes, which always seemed to draw my attention.
I told myself it was the closeness and the stronger pulse of power he carried, setting him apart from the others.
Finnegan cleared his throat. “Looking like that,” he said with a crooked smile, “I almost forgot the news I came to deliver.”
Anticipation coiled within me, tugging my gaze to him. “Did you see them?” I asked, my back perfectly ramrod straight.
“Yes, everything went well, but there were minor issues. It took some time to track down all the merchants on your father’s list at the fair.
I’m afraid I didn’t meet with all of them.
Some had already departed with the shipments.
But the ones I met, I was able to trade with, and your father’s deals were successful. ”
I tried not to let the disappointment show in my expression. We had lost part of the money, which shouldn’t be surprising.
“What about my family?”