Page 25 of Ocean of Ink
She squeezed the book in her lap. Blossom laid a soft hand on her wrist. Wren looked at her lady’s maid, who mustered a meek smile. She returned it, suddenly grateful for the companionship.
“Would you like to know your weakness, Lady Kalyxi? I give all students the ability to live in ignorance if they so choose.”
No one in their right mind would choose to be kept in the dark while another knew their imperfection in detail.
“I would like to know.”
He dipped his chin as though he were a king granting a pardon.
“You are scared.”
Wren sat as still as possible. She waited for him to elaborate. For she knew a man like him was not short of words.
“You live in fear. Of your past, present, and future. It eats you up inside. That, and your guilt, of course.”
The room started to spin. Her stomach felt full of the jagged rocks that surrounded the island. A cold bead of sweat trailed down her back. She felt as though her dress had suddenly become transparent.
“You love your brother as much as he loved you, if not more. I could see you even idolizing him, which is a tricky thing, as I’m sure you’ve come to understand. It leaves you rather lost when that person is absent.”
Wren shot to her feet. “I believe the length of my trip has taken a toll on me. I am feeling unwell. Please excuse me.”
The ambassador looked upon her with sympathy. It did not matter if she felt his pity covering her like a wet blanket. She could not take any more of his torture.
“You are very strong, dear. But to survive here, you will need to become much more than you are now. I hope you can, as I do like you.”
Wren curtsied and almost lost her footing on shaking legs. Blossom followed suit, then opened the door for Wren, who left with a quickness.
Ivanhild sat on the staircase nearby. He stood when they came out the door. His worry crashed into Wren with a force that made her stomach roll. Blossom wrapped an arm around Wren to steady her.
“I wish to be alone. I do not care where. I must be alone,” she said as Blossom led her to Ivanhild.
He nodded. “You may rest in my office. It is a short walk to the Hall of Malis.”
She heard the uncertainty of whether or not she could make it there in his voice.
“Lead the way, please.”
And so he did. In silence, they wound the staircase and walked out the door to be greeted by a dreary gray sky. Wren heard no more whispers, but she felt eyes on her, the same as the mist on her skin. She called upon the dregs of her energy to keep her posture straight and expression serene. If she gave up now, the ambassador would be right. She had to be stronger. The walls of her throat stuck together when she swallowed. She would survive. She had to.
Year 820, Week 18, Avisa (Eighteen years old)
Heron came back from the academy today. After months of staving off the schemes of our parents, I’m finally safe. I wish Eventide were longer. I wish he didn’t have to go back. But attending the academy was the way he ensured the future we planned together all those years ago.
He will train to become the best heir, then take over Riverwild and continue the legacy our parents set before us. And I will live in a small cottage on the edge of the estate. No husband to hurt me. No parents to use me. Just me and the flowers, except for when Heron visits. Then we’ll sit in my garden and have tea and honeycakes, just as we will do in a few short hours after he rests. He looked so tired, but he assured me he’s okay. I know he will be. He’s strong. So much stronger than I am.
Castien unbuttoned his academy jacket before sitting down at an oak dining table across from Finn. They were the only two at their table, but it would not be long before the other six seats were filled. As the High Inquisitor and son of an emperor, Castien was not afforded much personal space. He could command the seats to be empty if he so desired. Everyone but Finn would listen. However, he knew the benefit of socializing with his peers. Connections gave way to knowledge. And knowledge brought power.
“I see Heathford managed to get most of the ink off of you,” Finn said with a smirk.
“Unlike some, I am capable of bathing myself,” Castien groused as he surveyed the dining hall.
The room was large enough to fit all of the students and many of the professors at one time. Its lofty ceilings kept the room from feeling too cramped, while an array of sizable chandeliers lit the tables below. Each table sat eight people, and was placed at precise distances that allowed for students to pass by one another without issue. That calculation was rather pointless,though, because many of the students pushed their tables together to fit larger crowds or dragged tufted chairs to allow for more of their friends to share a meal.
Castien did not permit such behavior at his table. If someone wished to sit with him, they would need to take one of the seats left after he and Finn sat down. Usually, the first chair after the two cousins went to Percilean, when he wasn’t off working on an odd contraption. Castien suspected Calypsia would take the next available seat. If she didn’t, then she would sit at the table across from them, in order to watch him. Either way, he would not show discomfort. Disdain, perhaps, but nothing more.
“Are you implying I don’t bathe myself?” Finn asked, amusement in his tone.
Castien continued his perusal of the room without answering. Finn could carry on a conversation with a stone; he didn’t need Castien to respond in order to entertain himself.
