Page 38 of Ocean of Ink
She set her teacup down and dabbed at her lips with a linen napkin. “Not all of it, but she did say she wasn’t in the Giftings course this year because she’s taking private training lessons from Professor Ivanhild during that time.”
Perfect. That meant Castien could observe and even interact with Wren without Kierana breathing down his neck. It also meant that Wren’s Gift would be exposed in the near future.
Castien’s heartbeat quickened at the idea of learning more about the mysterious woman who had shaken the academy with her presence. The anticipation of being the one to unearth her secrets was thrilling. To be the first and the best was a special kind of reward, and he anxiously awaited the day he would claim his prize.
Kierana Tove was a fearsome woman. Wren had not yet determined if having her as an ally was beneficial or detrimental, but it seemed as though she did not have a choice in the matter. When Kierana walked into a room, people looked away rather than at her. The respect she commanded reminded Wren of the way men beheld her father. Others knew what Kierana was capable of, and it made them steer clear.
While Wren enjoyed the breathing room Kierana’s presence brought, she didn’t want her fellow students to find her unapproachable. That was no way to make connections. Wren would have to make the most of the times Kierana was not around, as the warrior woman had nominated herself guardian of Wren in her brother’s stead.
She sensed no hidden animosity in her new friend, so while she would not immediately drop her guard, she wouldn’t create distance between them either.
Cool mist caressed Wren’s bare arms, making the blonde hairs on her arms rise. She would need to bring a cloak or wear her long-sleeved uniform tomorrow to protect from the damp,dreary weather. Her eyes strained to make out her location. All she could see were shadowy figures and swaying lanterns. Kierana had told her today was particularly grey, but that not every day was like this.
That did not help Wren in finding her class, though. She was to report to the Hall of Malis, which she knew the general direction of, but as soon as she had exited the assembly hall, she could scarcely tell down from up on account of the thick fog. Panic arose as she worried about being tardy. It would not do to make a poor impression. Ambassador Westover already thought her too weak to survive. She could not afford to prove him right on the first day.
“Lost?” a silken voice asked from behind her.
She whipped around, clutching her damp map with cold fingers. Finn smiled down at her. His eyes were like glowing sapphires as he regarded her.
“I’m afraid so,” Wren murmured. “It is quite difficult to make out specific buildings–large as they are–when the entire island is dipped in darkness.”
Finn grinned. Wren felt jovial amusement pour over her like warm water.
“It takes getting used to, that is for certain. Where are you headed? Perhaps we can walk together.”
Wren eyed him. She had told Alysia her itinerary that morning and watched her sit down at Finn and Castien’s table. It was unlikely that she didn’t divulge the information she learned, especially since Kierana called the woman an insatiable gossip.
“To the Hall of Malis,” Wren answered instead of calling out his lie of omission. “My first class is Giftings with Ambassador Westover.”
“How fortunate, so is mine.” He gestured in the direction opposite of where Wren was heading. “Shall we?”
Her skin flushed with embarrassment. “Thank you,” she said quietly and walked alongside him.
“Apart from the cheery weather, how are you finding your time at the academy thus far?” Finn asked.
Wren did her best to remain aware of her surroundings as she walked. Though he was amicable and she felt suspiciously at ease around him, she did not trust that Finn would not lead her into a trap.
“My chambers are comfortable, and the food is delicious. I look forward to spending time in the library,” Wren replied, at a loss for words on how to describe her short spell on the island.
It was not as if she could say she was cataloguing the details of all her interactions in order to create a list of suspects. After all, Finn was on the list, right after his cousin. The journal hidden beneath her floorboards already had pages on each of them.
“And the people?” Finn asked with a teasing smile.
Wren did not take his bait. “I enjoy Kierana’s company.”
He chuckled. “That sentiment is unique to you alone. She is a talented fighter, but not much of a conversationalist.”
Lit windows loomed above as they closed in on what Wren hoped was the Hall of Malis. Finn did not seem to be in any rush, but Wren did not think a man with as many clocks as Ambassador Westover had was forgiving when it came to time.
“If given the choice, I would choose strength of character over wit in my acquaintances."
“How lucky I am to have secured your friendship before you discovered that my wit is my only amiable trait,” Finn said with a wink.
A laugh bubbled out of Wren before she could stop it. There was something about Finn that drew positivity out of her despite the circumstances surrounding them. She had no particular affection for him, but he seemed able to charm her anyway. It was perplexing.
“What makes you think we are friends?” Wren asked as they ascended a stone staircase.
She recognized the ornate doorframe inscribed with ships and crashing waves as the one Ivanhild had led her to on her first day on the island. Finn had led her to the Hall of Malis after all.
