Page 44 of Rook of Ruin
“Thank you, Nora,” I say politely. I’m reminding myself that those women’s opinions about my body don’t matter, but I do need to start a workout regimen to stay in shape. I have been very lax on that. “Could you see if there are any practice dummies I could borrow?”Have. I meanhave, but if I say I would like to keep it, I would probably have to fill out moreforms than I want to. I’ll just borrow it for eternity. “And some daggers.” Nora leaves me in search of my requests.
The white roses and the letter I received early this morning threaten to break open the emotional box I have so carefully wrapped and put away in my chest. I didn’t want to read it in front of Nora, and I don’t want to read it now. I want to tear it up into a thousand pieces and throw it into the fire. As Simon once explained, this is knowledge, and knowledge of things can get people killed, but so can not knowing. I want to believe, totrustthat my own intuition isn’t wrong about him, that he is a good man. Simon could have left Alec to take care of me after the interrogation, he could have hurt me badly when we were alone by the lake, he could have chosen not to look for me in Wesson. I want to trust in him—maybe he didn’t tell me for the right reasons. But I don’t really know him.
Finishing my tea, I put on a soft black sweater and a long black swishy skirt with pale pink flowers blooming up from the bottom. I busy myself with correspondence, check on Alec, and read a new book to him about the recent improvements to farming equipment.
“This is a very dry book. I don’t know how you can read these. I’m asking Nora to get a romance book—one full of excitement and adventure. I think we could both enjoy that, don’t you?”
No answer, so I put on my very favorite Alec voice I’ve developed. “Yes,O.Why not get something with a passionate farmer and a reckless farmer’s daughter,where they meet and hate each other then slowly discover they have the same passion for corn,fall in love,and make corn babies.” I laugh at myself.
“Is this what you do all day?” Paul leans against my bedroom doorframe. I smother my face for a moment in embarrassment until I get over it, hop up, and hug him with everything I am. Elation does not come close to the feeling I have at seeing mybest friend standing here. “It’s okay, O. It’s okay.” He brings me into my sitting room to talk. “How are you? And don’t give me any horseshit answers. I’ll know.”
“I’m . . . I don’t know.” I shrug. “I truly don’t know. I think I’m still processing everything. I’m more concerned with how—”
“Ossian is doing. I understand.” Paul grimaces as he says Alec’s last name. Has he always done that? Or have I never cared that it bothered Paul to refer to Alec that way? Fuck, does Paul think I’m not a Rook like Alec does?
I let out a breath. “Did you know I’m not a real Rook?”
Paul narrows his blue-green eyes. “Says fucking who?”
“Alec. I—”
“So, you finally asked his name?” He smiles, and it is annoyingly smug.
“No, he told it to me.”
“He told you?” Paul laughs. “Itreallybothered him that you never asked. But the crazy thing is—”
“I never ask for anyone’s name. No point in asking. They either leave on a mission or want something from me.” I shrug. “Besides I have you, Zane, and Tess. What more could I need?”
“Apparently a new romance book, or how about a real-life romance? Although, from what I hear, you have had plenty of offers.”
I roll my eyes. “Ugh, don’t remind me.”
“If it’s any consolation, Rooks have been talking about you. We’re all proud of you both.” He sighs. “You are a real Rook. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have been found worthy of a brace. It happens, you know. It happened recently to a Recruit; they were rejected and found unworthy.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“I know I’m right. I’m always right.” He pauses, then brings his hand up to his mouth and fake gasps. “Are you just now figuring that out? Hells, maybe you aren’t a real Rook.”
“Gah, I’ve missed you.” I laugh.
“I know, O. Don’t worry. I’ll always be here for you. How is he really?”
I glance down. “I can’t heal what’s happening in his mind.”
“Damn.” Paul runs a hand through his hair, and then he gets a determined look. “Whatever he needs, let me know. We will help in any way we can.” Paul grimaces. “Zane is running Alec’s reconnaissance team; otherwise, he would be here, bugging you both.”
“I can only imagine the mischief he is getting into. How is your firecracker?”
Paul shrugs. “Wreaking havoc on my heart, as usual. I swear that man will give me a heart attack before I’m thirty.” I giggle, and he rolls his eyes. “I heard you wanted toborrowa fighting dummy and a few daggers?” I nod, and Paul grins. He knows my intentions.
He hands me the forms to fill out, opens the door, and drags the dummy into the room, then opens a box containing eight daggers and four black sheaths. Enough daggers to hide discreetly around my room. I grin. The daggers are from the Ravens, although how he acquired them, I doubt I’ll ever know. Best not to ask those kinds of questions; some information can get you killed after all. I smirk.
“Thank you, Paul.”
He stands, giving me a slight nod.
“When will you have free time?” I ask before he leaves.
