Page 119 of The Chaosweaver's Daughter
KingEhmetHethtar,mybrother. My brother, Ehmet. Ehmet, my brother. Oh, you know, my brother, the king.
Any way she phrased it, the concept felt foreign. She’d likely never utter the words aloud though, at least not to anyone aside from Kas, the queen, or the man—her brother—himself. The whole thing made a sickening amount of sense, though. Nesrina had seen similarities between Ehmet and her father but never gave it a second thought. Ehmet had a certain reverence for Papa that was... odd. Perhaps her brother hadn’t known the truth until recently, but the connection was bound to have impacted their interactions with some sort of... innate subconscious knowledge.
Rolling onto her stomach, Nes gingerly twisted her arms so her wounds wouldn’t take too much pressure. She would nap for a few hours then go speak with Kas. They still had much to talk about.
She made it all of three minutes in a state of fitful unrest before rolling back again and staring at the canopy. She’d told the duke “Yes.” She’d said it to him, finally. And he’d all but accepted her accepting him, albeit a few days after he first asked. Still, the prospect of their impending conversationfilled her with a whole flock of butterflies.
Do butterflies flock?
Nes pulled open her side table drawer without sitting up. Blindly, she rummaged around for the Old Tongue book she’d stashed there, desperate for a distraction. Apparently, she’d misplaced the thing. Instead of the tome, she came upon a stack of papers stuffed in the back.
Oh!This was far more exciting. In the madness of the past few days, she’d forgotten Mama’s transcription.
Thanin’s most recent article wasexactlywhat she needed. Reading wasn’t resting, but it was better than tossing and turning, trapped in her own chaotic thoughts. Kas needed time to send his letter off to Hevva, then she’d seek him out to finish what they began.
Propping herself against the headboard, she straightened the stack of papers, and dove in. The new article was on the subject oftishtafiran, though the authors referred to her type of magic as chaosweaving in the first sentence, which had her even more intrigued than normal. Authors—two of them. She noticed Mama transcribed the names of Talik Thanin and another scholar beneath that, Thila Taryan.
Lots of T’s.Nes tried to name any other works by this Taryan character. It didn’t ring a bell. Further, she couldn’t recall any other article, ever, where Thanin collaborated with a second scholar.Interesting.
Thanin began by retracting histishtafiranproposal.
A soft series of knocks sounded on her door followed by Aylin poking her head in. “Ah, there you are.” The motherly chambermaid pushed inside, carrying a tureen on a tray. “The healer said—”
“I have to eat the whole thing, every last drop.”
Aylin chortled. “Precisely. I’ll leave this here, then.” She set the stew down on the low table before making her exit.
Nes grasped the article before rolling herself off the bed and moving to her sitting area where she could eat and read simultaneously.
Soup sprayed across the tabletop when she saw hername at the top of the fourth page. Thanin agreed wholeheartedly thatnaughtbirinsshould be renamedazhelekezhi.The dispute at the symposium must have gotten back to the mysterious author.Or—she shivered—had he been in the room?
Any and all questions she had regarding Talik Thanin were whisked away when she turned to the next page. In her mother’s slanted hand, Nesrina saw her own words reflected back at her. She read an artfulsummary ofherexplanation of the golden threads of chaos that shimmered in the atmosphere and comprised the planet on which they lived. She saw their conversations there, the words fleshed out and clarified. Ideas they’d bandied about whilst swimming in the stream so many weeks before, chatting before the fire in Rohilavol, little things they’d discussed over the past months.
Oh my gods.She let the pages float from her fingers to the floor.Kas is the author.
Everything came clear in hindsight. Nes sat there, mouth ajar as she processed the details: his secrecy, his aloof attitude that aligned with publication deadlines, the interest he’d had in her love of Thanin’s work—ofhiswork. The way he’d teased her! The advance copies he received. The reason he didn’t want her to see the most recent article...
Oh, gods. That infuriating man!She panted as if she’d shouted aloud.
Then she recalled the way she’d stood beside him in Rohilavol and disproven his work in a room full of scholars. Nes buried her head in her hands for a minute before the shaking began, a low vibrating sort of laughter that soon had her gasping for air and left tears leaking down her cheeks.
She caught her breath but lost it again when she thought back on her first conversation with Isahn. The earl had goaded the duke, and Kas nearly—she now recognized—gave himself away when he blurted that Thanin was mostcertainlywhole. A fact she’d since unknowingly confirmed to be true.
She wondered again who his collaborator might be.Thila Taryan.The name didn’t ring a bell. Thera, maybe? Because of the letters? It didn’t seem like the maid had a secret career—then again, it didn’t seem like Kas had one either. It better not be Lord Yaranbur’s stunning sister.
Nesrina should have been livid that Kas hid yet another thing from her. But she considered it for all of two seconds and decided it wasn’t worth her energy to be angry. She loved him far too much to mind. If anything, it was more of an elaborate prank than a manipulative betrayal. Hiding his authorship was likely an act of self-preservation, and not nefarious in any way. His sister was the queen, after all.
Nesrina lost herself to laughter again, distracted however momentarily from her anxiety surrounding her pending conversation with the insane man.
forty-two
Kas takes a bath.
Finally,Kasreturnedtohis chambers after sending off a superficially simple note to follow Hevva to Kirce. His apartment doors thunked shut behind him, and he stopped to pour himself a finger of whiskey, hoping to set his nerves at ease.
He’d done all he could, save riding south himself, which would have been pointless. His sister would’ve killed him if he abandoned the twins at Stormhill to join her on her journey. The prince, the princess, and Nes were all under his care, and that, Kas reminded himself, was doingmorethan enough to support the royal family—his family—and help bring about an end to the tumult in Serkath.
However, a primal part of him still shuddered with outrage and a longing to grab his best sword, jump on a horse, and hunt down the slimy soldier himself. Kas would run the fucker through for what he’d done to Nesrina. Then, he’d find that poor excuse for a prince, and lop off the firebearer’s bloody head. Never mind he’d end up imprisoned for life; murdering the men who hurt his love, who hurt his family, would be worth the consequences.
