Page 18 of Song of the Heart Scale
I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face. “I know!”
“But…”
“But what?” My smile faltered.
“How will you bring Lady Arya back? I can’t imagine she’s been waiting by the portal all this time,” Maeve whispered.
I nodded. “Yes, I thought about that. It won’t be easy but… I’m going to try and see the seer again. Maybe he can tell me when the next storm is and how long it’ll last. With that information, I’ll be more prepared. If I manage to get back to my world, I’ll search for her during the timeframe the seer gives me, and if I can’t find her, I’ll return.”
Maeve gasped again. “You would come back here?”
“Yeah… I would.”
She shook her head sadly. “My lady…”
I sighed and leaned back in the vanity chair. “If I don’t leave and search for her, then Arya will never be able to return to this world. This is the only way.”
Maeve placed her hand on my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Th—thank you, my lady.”
I patted her hand. “Of course, Maeve.”
“Young Master Jacob has requested to see you today,” she said as she placed the final touches on my hair.
I shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t feel like seeing anyone with the last name of Ryder.”
“My lady…”
“They’re all annoying me. Also, shit’s about to hit the fan. Speaking of which, I need you to send word to Garrick.” I stood and straightened my dress.
“What happened, my lady?”
Without meeting her eyes, I nonchalantly replied, “The emperor died.”
The gasp from Maeve was so loud, I whirled around with wide eyes, thinking she was hurt. She smacked a hand over her mouth.
“Jesus, Maeve.”
“My lady!”
“I know, sucks, right?” I picked up a glass bottle and dabbed some rose perfume on my wrists.
Maeve’s face fell as if she couldn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth. “This is horrendous, my lady! A catastrophe! If it’s true, then Crown Prince Thorne will take over and…”
“Relax.” I waved her off, but then realized she was right. He would become emperor, and honestly, he was just about as bad as the last person who had ruled the empire. I felt shitty leaving Maeve and everyone else to deal with this nightmare. They didn’t deserve what was about to happen. Was Damien thinking the same thing?
“Send word to Garrick,” I said more seriously this time. “We need to meet as soon as possible.”
Maeve quickly nodded and swept out of the room on slippered feet.
I couldn’t leave Elaria in the hands of Thorne, of all people. Was this dumpster fire my responsibility? Hell nah. But was I going to take it upon myself to fix things before I left? Yup.
My nosiness would be the death of me.
The carriage wheelsgroaned as we bumped along the uneven cobblestone path, the scent of soot and smoke thickening the further south we traveled. As the Northern District faded behind us, its polished lanes, manicured hedges, and prying eyes were replaced by the grittier, darker soul of the Southern District, Elaria’s underbelly. The home of misfits, criminals, and everyone too clever—or too desperate—to live above the surface.
Maeve sat across from me with her lips pressed into a tight line as she glanced out the carriage window. Discomfort and unease practically radiated off her.
“You know,” I began lightly, trying to ease her nerves, “you’re not going to catch a plague just by breathing the air here.”
