Page 42 of What Courses Through Her Blood
“I need to know what’s in it for you,” I tell her, not trusting Elspeth to offer help without having her own agenda.
I’m not sure if I care what her agenda is if she truly has something that could help me win Lyra back, but I’m curious if she’ll reveal her motives.
“I don’t want that girl bonding with my son. I don’t want him anywhere near her or her dark magic. Colton can do far better, and I will do whatever it takes to ensure that. But Colton can never know I helped you,” she confides.
I mull this over. Colton can do far better? I suppress a laugh. Clearly, Elspeth’s love for her son is blinding her, maybe driving her a bit mad given all the recent events. Regardless, her reasons are her own—I don’t care as long as I get what I want from the deal.
“Fine. I won’t reveal your involvement to Colton. Now, what do you have that can help me?” I ask, hoping it might be exactly what I suspect.
“Follow me,” she instructs, leading me to the bottom floor of the library. It’s always colder here, and the smell of old books is pungent. She navigates to the back of the room and turns down one of the aisles. At the end, she tugs on two books simultaneously, and magically a door appears in the aisle itself, hidden until now.
Of course. No wonder Flora isn’t finding what I’m looking for—this cunning woman is hiding everything right under our noses. I keep my mouth shut, half-expecting her to tell me to wait here, but instead she allows me to push through the door behind her.
The door opens into a hidden vault, not merely filled with books but shelves packed with jewels and artifacts. I wonder if Granger is aware of this concealed chamber beneath the library.
“What is all of this? Why hide it?” I ask, frustrated that she thinks she can conceal books in my kingdom because she’s an elder. Deciding this isn’t the moment to escalate tensions, I keep my tone controlled, casually masking my irritation.
“Some texts are not meant for public eyes. Some histories are better left buried. As for the other items,” she says, her voice as cool and composed as ever, “I’ve simply collected my fair share of trinkets over the years. Nothing special.”
I suppress the urge to roll my eyes. I don’t believe for a second that everything in this room is merely trinkets.
“Listen, I know what I’m about to show you may upset you, but I want you to understand that I loved your father. However, I also love my husband and my son. I kept these things hidden to protect the ones I love,” shesays, confirming my suspicions that she might have one of my father’s journals hidden here.
“I understand that love can drive us to do crazy things,” I tell her, meaning every word. She smirks at me, perhaps understanding my feelings more than I realize. She walks over to a large cabinet, pulls open one side, and retrieves a stack of books—a stack of journals. It’s unbelievable how many there are.
“After your parents passed, I hid away every journal of Callum’s that I could find. I feared they might reveal our relationship or Colton’s lineage. I’m sorry for keeping a piece of your father from you all these years.” She hands me the stack, and I glance down, counting roughly sixteen journals.
“Perhaps in death, he will help you get what you truly desire,” she says. Eager to leave, knowing I have many sleepless nights ahead to go through these, I watch as she returns to the cabinet for more. Could there really be more?
“These are letters he wrote. I haven’t read them all myself. His mind was fragile at the end. Take them if you wish,” she continues, handing me a small stack of old envelopes, some wax seals still intact.
I nod and leave without another word. I can’t bring myself to thank her—I’m too furious she hid this from me for so long, my father’s possessions, rightfully mine. Yet I know maintaining her as an ally might be beneficial, so I restrain my anger for now.
I channel back to my bedroom, not wanting to leave these items scattered around my study, especially since Colton has been appearing there lately. My bedroom is safer. I start to set the journals and letters out across my bed, doing a quick inventory of everything.
I wonder how much of this might be the ramblings of a man troubled by delusions. Perhaps my father wasn’t as deranged in his final days as everyonebelieved. Maybe there was a kernel of truth in his madness, his struggles exacerbated by our disbelief in his predictions and the many prophecies he knew. With these thoughts swirling in my mind, I kick off my boots and grab the first journal from the pile. Settling back against my pillows, I open it to the first page, eager to uncover whether wisdom or madness lies within its worn pages.
This prophecy, these scribblings—they will call it the delusion of a disturbed mind. Let them. For in the truth of these words lies the salvation of those who dare to heed them. Beware, for the night grows darker, and its terrors do not sleep...
Chapter 21
Lyra
“Haveyou thought about when you want to have the wedding yet? You need to set a date,” Flora says from her padded chair in the backyard.
“She can take all the time she needs. Don’t rush her,” Colton chimes in from behind me, shooting Flora a pointed look. I lean back against him, stretching my legs out in the sun. We had planned to leave for the Lamia Realm this morning, but Flora’s unexpected visit prompted us to enjoy the day outside and leave tonight instead.
“It’s okay. I don’t need more time. I honestly don’t know when to have it,” I tell her, and Colton wraps an arm around me, idly tracing circles on my stomach.
“Well, have you thought about anything specific you want for the ceremony? Have you made any decisions at all since I last saw you? It’s a good thing I took you dress shopping when I did, or you would probably have worn something out of your closet,” Flora teases, and I laugh at her dramatic tone.
“You went dress shopping?” Colton asks. We’ve both been so busy lately that I forgot to tell him.
“Yes, Seraphina is designing a dress for me. I picked out some fabric and let her take my measurements. I haven’t seen the dress yet though,” I explain. Colton hums in response, and I place my hand over his, giving it a gentle squeeze, hoping he understands that my lack of involvement in the planning doesn’t mean I’m not excited.
“And I have decided a few things about the ceremony,” I add to Flora, who props herself up on her elbows, eager for me to continue. “I want the ceremony to be small, and I think having it on the coast at Colton’s family home you told me about would be perfect.”
I pause, and when neither of them protests, I continue, “I know your mom wants to invite all her friends and make it a big event, but I want the ceremony to be intimate, close friends and family. If Elspeth wants, she can throw a reception afterward and invite whoever she wants.”
