Page 52 of Jeweler to the Blessed
What if it was more than that?
The Feared were rumored to be stealing adamas from the Blessed. With Blessed never taking the gems off, it seemed impossible for someone without magic to overpower and steal a gem.
What if a Blessed stole from the Blessed?
I was putting puzzle pieces together in my mind. While the edges made sense, the middle was still a jumble of shapes with the same colors and patterns.
A Blessed stealing from a Blessed was the only way I imagined this working, but it left out a gaping question that I didn’t think could be answered so quickly.
Why would Hart help them? Why would a Blessed help the Feared?
17
His curse was that he needed her. What he’d do when he found her was far from certain.
— FROM CHAMPIONS OF KAVIOS
Sleep was elusive as my mind turned over reasons why Hart—a Blessed—would help the Feared. Each hypothesis I considered was more unlikely than the last.
Maybe Hart still had family without magic. It happened occasionally, though I was convinced King Rodric focused his Blessing on those who would be most grateful—those with no one else.
I didn’t know how to confront Hart about any of this or if I even should. The fact that he had an original, of a ring needing to be duplicated, was damning. It put him even more in bed with theFeared than I thought.
Macen might know of his role in all of this. It would explain why Hart didn’t arrest him.
Hart may be duty-bound by the prince to protect me, but he was also duty-bound not to commit treason. With these sins uncovered, I questioned my safety.
Mornings spent in Alaric’s workshop usually calmed me. I knew a big part of that was the man himself, but the urge to be in his space was overwhelming. As I started this new day with so many unknowns, I needed to get to Alaric’s workshop—without Hart.
I wanted time to search Alaric’s things. Maybe something in them could help me make sense of…anything.
The last few days had been a lot, and each new piece of information seemed like it would be the last straw.
Mother needed her tonic. Alaric needed to be found. I wanted to leave on my planned journey, hiking through the Oldwood undeterred.
The Feared wanted me gone. I didn’t want to die, but I also didn’t disagree with their logic. If I were gone, the flow of adamas would end.
These thoughts cycled as I readied for the day. Hart said to wait for him, but I wouldn’t—couldn’t. I had too much to sort through, and though I was pretty confident Hart either knew of Alaric’s banned books or wouldn’t care, I didn’t want him with me. I wanted to clear my head.
When I opened the door to my room, both guards stood at attention outside. They turned toward me, helmets in place, blocking my ability to read their expressions.
“You can’t leave,” the one on the right said.
I gave him my best glare. “Hart is going to meet me at Alaric’s workshop.”
They glanced at each other. “That’s not?—”
“Emberline, with me.” Vaddon’s cloak billowed around him as he rounded the corner, storming down the hallway.
The guards slowly glanced at each other. The one who’d just spoken shrugged. Telling me no was one thing, saying the same to the king’s advisor was another.
Vaddon was steps beyond my door now. He hadn’t slowed. “Emberline.”
I shook my head, getting what I wanted even as I was called like a dog to come.Focus on the win, I told myself. I was getting out of my room without Hart.
“How were the mines?” Vaddon asked.
“Fine. But I don’t have enough adamas for the pieces Prince Elias approved. They said I’ll need to return after the Cornucopia.”
