Page 46 of The Chaosweaver's Daughter
Grump.She sighed, settled back into her original position, and turned her attention back to the journal. Leafing through crisp pages, Nesrina searched for the start of Talik Thanin’s newest article. She always enjoyedhis work.
Locating it, she smoothed the pages and propped it open, using her thumb and pinky as a makeshift stand. A shadow floated across the paper, blocking out the rays of fading sunlight she needed to read.
Again, she arched her back and tilted her head to look up. Her gaze landed on him—on his, um, manhood, specifically. He stood immediately behind her, gazing down at the journal she’d clutched near her breasts.
His eyes did not move. “You don’t start at the beginning?”
She smiled sheepishly—the type where the corners of her lips curved down rather than up—and lifted the journal from her bosom for him to see.
“My favorite author,” she offered by way of explanation.
His gaze lingered on the spot where the journal hadbeen before he raised his eyes to the article.
“I thought you said you already read it?” Nes prodded when he still did not move.
“I did.”
“Are you going to stand over my shoulder all evening?”
When he didn’t respond, only returned to his corner seat and busied himself with another book, she repositioned the journal atop her knees and dove into Thanin’s newest piece.
Every so often the duke rustled a page, sighed deeply, or grunted softly at whatever had his focus. The room was otherwise silent, with nothing but the crackle of a small fire to distract her from the newest edition ofTranscendent Ideals.
Thanin’s latest piece proved unique and captivating, as usual. A deep dive into the Old Tongue, he touched on one of her personal favorite topics: ancient phrases that persisted in the common tongue. He even considered seemingly nonsensical colloquialisms in the modern language that may have been bastardized sayings from long ago.
Humming, she turned the page and shifted on the couch, reaching up with one hand to twist her now-dry hair into an unbound bun atop her head.
Thanin went on to propose specific lost phrases thatmayhave heldrelevance in times of old. The author’s piece included several detailed charts and diagrams that delved into the old names for the elemental magics so common in Selwas and Karova, the light and dark magic from Gramenia, and even Domossan sensory magic.
Thanin continued, turning the topic tonaughtbirins, and the history of the term. He compared Old Tongue vocabulary with gathered facts, both written and tacit, then posited that“naughtbirin”was a term coined in recent history.
Fascinating.She turned onto her side, propping herself up and using her free hand to flip the pages. To support his assertion, Thanin pointed out that naught, meaning nothing, was not from the Old Tongue. The suffix-birin, however, was Old Tongue and meant “make.” Further, this use of “make” was incorrect and more correctly translated to “do.” A better suffix would be based on the verbkiafirininfor “create.” The combination of details led Thanin to posit that there was most likely an old name for the uncommon magic, a term lost to the annals of time. Then, he proposed a new name for magic wielders like Nesrina, one based fully on the Old Tongue:Tishtafiran, object-shapers.
There were a few fundamental inaccuracies in the article, but overall, she appreciated it. Finished, she turned to sneak a glance at the duke, who eyed her with anticipation.Of course, he’s already read it.The sun had sunk below the horizon, the only light came from the flickering candelabra beside Lord Kahoth, and from the fireplace across the room.
“What did you think?” Nes asked, tipping her chin at the journal in her hand.
“Beautiful.”
“Beautiful?” She cocked her head.
“Captivating.”
“Captivating?”
“Enchanting.”
“Enchanting?” These were not helpful explanations of his thoughts on the article.
His confession rang out in her mind, yet again.“You know I’m attracted to you, right?”Nes fought the urge to outwardly react. Instead, she raisedher brows and shook her head, as if to say, “And...?”
“Yes, I was enthralled. The whole time. I think the author posited several well-researched ideas. What didyouthink?” He finally offered more than a one-word response before leaning forward and resting his forearms on his thighs. The action pulled his already form-fitting trousers even tighter against his legs.
He’s a duke, Nesrina. A duke! Don’t even think of it.Papa would have told her off for deigning to daydream about a peer of the realm, and she feared he’d have disowned her if he was around to learn she’d kissed the man.
Akkas eyed her expectantly.
Say something! Think!A fizzling memory of the lord’s lips against hers fluttered through her mind.No, not that!Her typically sharp brain was having a difficult time recalling the article she’d just finished reading.
