Page 194 of The Throne Seeker
“Maybe,” she admitted, watching Onyx approach them warily. “But if I can prevent more lives from being lost, I must. Ihave to know more. I’m tired of being in the dark. It’s time I get answers.”
Roman gave a frustrated grunt. “I’m not going to be able to talk you out of this, am I?”
“Nope.”
“Fine,” he said in submission, “but I’m coming with, and we aren’t taking Onyx. He’ll draw too much attention. I’ll stay far away. You won’t even know I’m there—but I’m coming.”
She didn’t try to argue.
The winds lashed Rose’s cloak, while heavy rain loomed within the dark, cloud-covered sky. She did her best to keep her hood from flying off in the wind, keeping her face hidden from the few who walked the city streets. They hardly noticed her, preoccupied with securing their belongings against the impending storm.
While riding through the streets, she caught sight of a flyer fluttering in the wind. Her gaze fixed on the piece of parchment nailed to the wooden post as her eyes widened.
It was a missing person poster with a sketch of herself, though her name was listed as Draya Santres. A sizable reward was promised to anyone who could provide information. To her shock, this wasn’t the only one. Posters were plastered across almost every window, lamp post, and door, with some even fluttering through the streets, scraping against the cobblestones.
“You sure made an impression on Moretti, didn’t you?” Roman drawled beside her. “What the hell happened between you two anyway?”
Her guilty eyes met his. “We kissed… more than once… maybe a lot.”
His eyes bulged out of his sockets, an ugly aura expelling from him in a powerful wave. “What?” he hissed.
“I couldn’t get a chance to put it in his drink, so I put it in my mouth and got him to take it that way.” She paused, as Roman still glared. “I was helping, remember?”
His glower didn’t falter. “I don’t like this. The whole city will be looking for you, thanks to these damn flyers.”
On the contrary, the storm may just work in their favor. “This is the perfect time. The streets are practically empty. I’m not wasting the chance. I may not get another one.”
She steered her steed forward, navigating through the streets to the front gates of Moretti’s estate without any complications, Roman doing as promised and hanging back. Although she couldn’t see him, she knew he was well within eye range.
The guards came to attention as she approached, careful to keep her face hidden under her large hood.
“I’m here to see Moretti,” she stated, keeping her voice silky and smooth.
The guard on the right was the first to speak. “Who asks?”
“Draya.”
They recognized the name in an instant, their backs straightening.
“He’s not at home at the moment, Ms. Santres. He has business in town,” the other guard said. “But upon your return, we were ordered to tell you to wait here, or we can take you to him.”
“Then take me to him,” she ordered.
With a nod, the guard led her through the city, northward down the cobblestoned street. The trip was quick since there was no heavy traffic. Even the canals, always full of boats, flowed peacefully empty beneath them.
To her pleasant surprise, he led her straight to the Central Library, said to be one of the most beautiful libraries in all of Vallor.
And that it was.
A shallow multi-level staircase led up to the moody building. It looked nothing like what she had imagined, its black exterior lined with a golden trim and gutters that framed the edges and doors. The most impressive thing had to be the enormous glass dome sitting directly on top of the massive building, providing a beautiful skylight for those within.
The interior proved to be just as elegant. She couldn’t help but crane her neck to gaze at the gigantic domed glass ceiling that hovered overhead, the tinted ceiling so tall she swore the top entered the clouds.
Her shoes tapped across the black-and-white-checkered floor as she followed the guard across the lobby, her gaze drawn to the line of black wooden bookshelves, each bearing a single brass letter, keeping the books in an orderly alphabetical fashion. The colorful spines of the hardbacks popped out strikingly against the dark wood.
She didn’t have long to admire the lobby as the guard led her directly up the black spiral staircase, down the hall, and to the right, stopping at a double door.
He knocked in a precise pattern.
