Page 28 of Ocean of Ink
“She was not wearing yellow,” Wren said as she stabbed a roasted potato with her fork.
“Perhaps she was unaware of the custom,” Ivanhild replied in a gentle tone.
“Someone does not become the betrothed of a future duke and not know the customs of his land,” Wren hissed. “She was lying.”
“Your brother never mentioned being betrothed, to be sure,” Ivanhild conceded. “But they were romantically involved. Perhaps in her grief, she has deluded herself into thinking they were more than a dalliance.”
Wren did not reply. She could not tell him that she knew Callalily wasn’t grieving. He would think her paranoid or tired, likely both. Maybe she was tired, but that didn’t blind her to the truth. Callalily was using Heron’s death for her gain. Wren simply had to determine if such a gain was significant enough to motivate the woman to murder. While Callalily didn’t seem capable of such an act at first glance, Wren would not rule her out until the evidence proved her innocence.
“After you’re well-rested, you can send for the seamstress. You will need your uniform before classes begin.”
The Star of Adira was falling. They’d seen its slow descent on their journey. Soon enough, she would be trapped on this island, not to leave until next Eventide. Classes would begin, and so would her mission. She would need all of her strength and wit to get her through.
“You are very strong, dear. But to survive here, you will need to become much more than you are now.”
Anxiety spiked as the ambassador’s words came to mind. He was correct about everything, and Wren despised him for it. She had proven him right, too, when she fled from his office. Oh, how she wished he were wrong. Wren wanted to be strong, but she feared that all of her might had died with her brother. The only thing keeping her alive was the desire to bring him the justice he had given her. He deserved it, where she had not.
Wren’s stomach curdled as dark memories joined with the emotions of the dining hall to berate her senses.
“I believe I am ready to retire,” she told Ivanhild after she had dragged herself out of the abyss.
He dipped his chin. “Let us go. I will ensure Blossom finds your chambers.”
“Thank you,” Wren said in a small, quiet voice.
She stood and had to steady herself by placing her fingertips on the table. The food had helped, but the wine was a poor decision given her lack of proper sleep. She accepted Ivanhild’s arm and let him lead her out of the dining hall.
They passed Prince Castien’s table on their way to the door. Wren glanced at him and found his dark eyes already looking at her. She did not wish for his attention, but rather the opposite. The more he studied her, the more likely he was to determine her true reason for being here and become defensive toward her. She needed him off guard in order to expose his role in her brother’s death.
What would surprise him?The only thing she could think of was to smile. So she did. Her lips felt numb, and the action was so foreign to her internal turmoil, but the subtle twitch of his brow indicated she had accomplished what she set out to do. It was the first step of many to disarm him and unveil the truth.
Shesmiledat him. Castien spun away from Finn’s incoming blade. They’d come out to parry in the sun again. Castien hoped it would help him make sense of what had transpired the night before. He hadn’t stopped thinking of Wren Kalyxi since the moment she stepped into the dining hall. His Gift turned over their short interactions endlessly in his mind. She had sought him out with her gaze, which meant she knew something about him. But why would she smile?
“Care to share your obsession with the class, cousin?” Finn taunted.
Castien swiped at him, cutting the fabric of his light blue dress shirt.
“The seamstress is going to have my head if you keep damaging my clothes,” Finn grumbled and lunged at Castien. Their blades clashed and scraped against each other.
“If you were a better swordsman, she would have less to repair.”
Finn looked past Castien and widened his eyes.
“Is that Lady Kalyxi?”
Castien looked over his shoulder, but she was not there. There were a few students picnicking in the grass, most of whom were pretending not to watch Castien and Finn. When he turned back, the tip of Finn’s sword was hovering over Castien’s heart.
“I read once in a book of poems that the greatest of men often fall folly to the whim of a beautiful woman.” Finn wore a mischievous grin.
Castien glared at him. “You know very well why I would find her presence interesting, and it has nothing to do with her appearance.” He stepped back from his cousin’s blade and walked to where Heathford was holding their water glasses.
“I never tire of teasing you,” Finn said as he followed.
Castien took a long drink of water.
“I have become accustomed to your antics, Finn, but bringing her into your games is going too far. This investigation affects you, too, you know.”
Finn sobered, his grin falling away. “I am aware. As soon as she leaves her chambers, I plan to speak with her. Until then, it would be nice if you shared what has so enthralled you instead of ripping my shirts while you battle internally.”
