Page 30 of Oathborn
Neither item seemed very important. Nor did they seem expensive enough to merit hiding in a box. Besides, didn’t Javen have a house provided to him, like all upper-ranking officers?
The man was a strange one, that Tobias was sure of. Strange, yes. Worthy of being monitored by some rich bureaucrat who had no problem threatening Tobias’s family? No. He didn’t think so.
Tobias lifted the paper and found himself cursing the fact he’d pried. This was personal, nothing of military value. Instead, the paper held a simple charcoal sketch of a woman with long, wavy hair and eyes that seemed to peer back at Tobias, judging him for his trespassing. She was beautiful, easily the most stunning woman he’d ever seen. The swooping dark lines captured so much personality, more than most photographs Tobias had seen. This woman was confident, elegant, and, with the way her full lips turned upward, more than a little amused by whoever was sketching her.
Javen’s wife. It had to be. Why else would the drawing be here?
Unless… what if this was his beloved? Perhaps Javen, like other aristocrats Tobias had heard of, was stuck in a loveless arranged marriage. This woman, then, might be the one he’d been forced to leave behind, the one that had made him become so miserable and cranky all the time.
It made sense to Tobias, who had grown up sneaking copies of his mother’s beloved romance novels off of the single bookshelf in their home. As much as he loved hearing his father’s war stories, he found himself equally captivated by tales of daring pirates falling in love with their captives, or brooding dukes whose hearts were won by stubborn young maidens. Romance had just as much a part in any good story as heroics, he figured, because what was a brave soldier without a love to fight for?
Everything seemed to click in Tobias’s mind. The nosy bureaucrat, asking for information about Javen. Perhaps he was a spy from Javen’s wife’s side, ensuring that he remained faithful to her, even though his heart belonged to another.
Which meant, if Tobias contacted him, he would not only be betraying his captain, but possibly interfering in the way of true love.
Carefully, Tobias set the drawing back in the box and the stone on top. Part of him wondered if it wasn’t a paperweight, if it was a real gem, but no, a sapphire that size would be more than a captain’s yearly salary.
He arranged the papers and books exactly as they’d been left and returned to his spot by the stove.
When he closed his eyes, purple smoke seemed to fill the darkness, and a woman’s laughter echoed. Salt water burned his throat. The smoke rose higher, and higher. Screams of dying men mixed with the laughter. Tobias’s stomach churned. Was this a result of breathing in that cadevesh smoke earlier this week? A lingering curse from the fae who had attacked?
He coughed, fighting harder to breathe now. His eyes wouldn’t open, he was trapped in the nightmare, no matter what he did. Something like thick seaweed wrapped around his legs, but when he dropped a hand to pull it off, nothing was there. Panic rose within him.
A door slammed, and Tobias’s eyes flew open.
The drowning sensation vanished as reality returned to him.
Captain Javen stood in the doorframe with an uncharacteristically rumpled uniform. Not only disheveled, but bloodstained; even his expression was far less reserved than usual. Rage lingered in his blue eyes and clenched jaw. Wordlessly, he shrugged out of the coat, hanging it on a hook before retrieving another. While he did, Tobias gawked, not at the ruined garment, but at the elaborate dagger strapped to the man’s white shirt.
Tobias had seen a few fae spoils of war claimed by soldiers, but he’d never seen a weapon so elegant. Golden flames twisted over a feather-shaped handle, and the hint of the blade above the sheath flickered with an amethyst hue.
“Where did you findthat?” Tobias pointed at it. He couldn’t help his curiosity, not when he’d never seen something so beautiful and so deadly before. Javen didn’t answer. Tobias winced, all too aware he’d yet again asked the wrong question. So, he might as well accept his fate and admit the rest of the issues with the night. “So, uh, Miss Ankmetta is—”
“Ankmetta.” Javen spun to face Tobias. Blue eyes flashed as he said the last name a second time.
“Yeah. Zari Ankmetta. The woman with the note. She—”
“Her family name is Ankmetta.”
There it was, that archaic phrasing again. “Yes, sir.”
“Is that a common name?”
“Not as far as I’m aware.” The only other Ankmetta he’d ever heard of was the dead general. But Javen probably already knew that.
“Where is she?”
“She, uh, wait. What about her note? Her friend?”
Javen rolled his eyes. “The woman is safe. Run off with a lover, I believe, and didn’t wish to tell her husband. As for the note, clearly a flight of fancy. Now. Miss Ankmetta. Where is she?”
“That’s just the thing, sir.” It dawned on Tobias that if Zari’s friend was safe, but Zari was missing, then perhaps she’d aided in this rendezvous. Maybe she passed the motorbike to the lovers. Once more, the plot of countlessromance novels spun through Tobias’s brain. Would Javen understand that, if he too was trapped in a loveless arrangement? Maybe he’d have sympathy for the others.
Or maybe it would just annoy him, as everything else did.
Tobias decided to stick to basic facts, more or less. “She works at the hospital. So I had to let her go, to start her shift.”
“Very well,” Javen said. “We’ve work to do.”
