Page 27 of The Chaosweaver's Daughter
“Oh! I didn’t mean—that’s not me telling you to eat. It was a genuine suggestion.” Nes pointed at his cookies with her own and smirked. “I can see you don’t need reminding this afternoon. Quite the model pupil, my lord.”
His lips twitched. Then, he was gone, hound on his heels.Back to work.
Theskiesopenedupafter dinner, which Nesrina shared with Rihan . . . and Mila, the other tutors, and a few other members of the duke’s staff. She’d left the kitchens alone that evening, since Rihan was graciously covering an overnight shift for an ill member of the duke’s guard.
When Nes expressed concern over his being alone in the woods during a rainstorm, patrolling the estate’s perimeter, Rihan chuckled and reminded her he was an earthshaper: The trees parted at his whim and would protect him from the weather, so he’d be the most frightening creature in the woods, not the greenery.
Bored and left to her own devices, Nesrina took a walk indoors, glaring out the windows at the incessant rain.
Can’t the duke do something about that?With a sigh, she tamped down her worries for Rihan and continued into the north gallery. This was the perfect evening for a dark, mysterious novel—not that she ever needed an excuse to dive into a good book.
To combat the premature darkness, someone had lit stray candles around the library. With rain battering the windows and ever-changing shadows flickering over the shelves and floor, Nes began to reconsider which genre she was truly in the mood for.
Lightning flashed and thunder clapped, rattling the enormous windows. She yelped, and made the decision that a dark mystery was off the table. Instead, she drifted to the history books, a comfortable standard, and slid her finger along the spines, perusing the section.
One book in particular, an ancient leather-bound tome, caught her attention. Reaching for it, she even hopped but couldn’t make contact with the spine. So, Nes sought out the step stool that seemed to be in a different spot each time she visited and hoisted it over to where she needed it now.
The Foundations of Karovian Clan Structure.
Perfect.
Cuddled into the plush chaise lounge in the little alcove she’d designated her favorite corner, Nes settled the book atop her knees. Light from the wall sconce danced across its wrinkled cover, enhancing the engraved lettering and highlighting its age. She cracked it open as a clap of thunder boomed, startling her into jostling the ancient book, releasing a cloud of three-hundred-year-old dust.
Particles of prehistoric candle soot and the skin of people long dead pushed straight into her eyes, nose, and mouth. The image alone—aboutthe dead people’s skin—was enough to make her gag. But before she could even process her own train of thought, her eyes began to water, and a coughing fit took hold.
seven
Kas pours a glass of water.
Asachild,Kasexplored his pursuits as and when they struck his fancy. After taking on the title of Earl of Kabuvirib at age eighteen, he’d had to get a grasp on the balance of managing an estate, while pursuing an education, and fitting in his amusements on the side. Then he’d added “Duke” to his responsibilities, following the carriage accident that claimed his parents’ lives. In the three years since joining the double-titled of Selwas, Kas had found a rhythm that worked well enough for him, barring obstructions. Now he’d gained a prince, a princess, a tutor, and endless opportunities for distraction.
With a sigh, he sent out a wisp of wind to nudge his letters to the edge of his desk. There was one to his overseer in Kabuvirib, one to his steward there, too, a note to his local steward, and a hasty letter to his good friend, Isahn. If only the man lived closer, Kas could really use advice.
Even with his expert delegation and much of the work being funneled through his stewards, Kas had to parse his time out fairly, and if he let himself chase after every new topic that caught his attention, he’d never get any of it done—public or private-facing.
He had just found some semblance of focus, trying to finish work he’d been at for months, when she walked by his office. It was getting absurd, not even a week into her stay at Stormhill, and he could already pick out Miss Kiappa’s footsteps from the twins’ and any others on his staff.
Reading before bed. A quick glance at the clock confirmed it was nearly half-past seven, and his stomach grumbled, reminding him he hadn’t stopped for dinner.Soon,Kas promised himself, inclining his head again to focus on the scattered papers, notes, and books spread across his desk.
Outside, the downpour was torrential, muffled slightly since his windows faced a covered entrance, but he could tell it was a significant storm nonetheless. Perhaps things would dry out by tomorrow, in time for Miss Kiappa to instruct the children outside rather than in. He hoped so.
She really wasn’t all that interesting... butenoughhe wanted to learn more about her, about her magic. It was mostly the magic that intrigued him, certainly.
A great crack of thunder rent the air, and the tutor yelped.
Better weather seems unlikely.
If they were forced to study indoors, their boisterousness would keep him from his work. Outside, though, that provided a whole new set of concerns... Perhaps it was best if things remained dreary for a few days. Poor weather would ensure no sneaking off to liaise with that slimy guard beneath the willow tree. It would mean nohidinghow slimy that guard was from her. It would mean no more swimming in her bloody shift. To be fair, Kas shouldn’t have been out there to witness any of that in the first place, but he was.
He’d gone out for a walk after a light lunch and found himself ambling toward the back of his property, subconsciously veering toward the clearing where Miss Kiappa was so fond of teaching the twins. He’d only intended to stay for a few moments, to learn abitabout being anaughtbirin. But he was drawn in, and the lesson was over.
Kas watched from afar as Nesrina—Miss Kiappa—and the children waded into the creek. He should have left then, andcouldhave left. There was nothing for him to learn. Not about their magic.
Instead, he’d remained in the trees when the younger nanny came to collect the twins. Kas stood, frozen, as Miss Kiappa stripped off her blue and white dress. In nothing but a thin muslin shift covering her soft curves, she’d waded out into the creek. When she dunked down, and the fabric clung to her pale, freckled skin, he panicked, turning and bolting throughthe woods. Out of breath, he’d ducked into the formal gardens to play at taking an afternoon walk, hoping to catch a glimpse of her again as she made her way back inside. He did. But he also caught Rihan Sarma, in the roses, with his tongue down a dairy maid’s throat.
And now Kas was an arsehole who knew about a bigger arsehole and couldn’t say anything without admitting he’d been watching her go out to the trees with Sarma daily.
With a ragged sigh, he ran his fingers through his already tousled waves. Guilt crept in as he considered the unsavory nature of his actions.What in the gods’ names is wrong with me?Why had he skulked around, hid behind trees, and sprinted away from her like he was a damned burglar rather than the bloody duke? He wasn’t going to learn anything aboutnaughtbirinsor Nesrina by hiding in the trees.
