The Bane of the Empire

Chapter 22

The woman had said the Rentradie name held power—that the Library was honoured to have another return to its walls. This distant relative had lived here, had fought against a phantom threat that now whispered of its ruination again.

Fae

She had never heard the word before.

Placing the small book back into the drawer, she turned to the wall behind her. The top shelf had the Archmage's logs neatly arranged.

The new mages have arrived today. I will introduce them to their trainers and assign apprentices this week. The King has requested a special tonic be made for the Queen. She appears to be having headaches recently.

The entries were short and succinct. There was an absence of speculation and thought in her words. Unlike the logs, now sitting undisturbed in the Library, these pages felt cold. As if the words were missing between the lines.

There was no mention of the King, but the fast approaching birth of the Queen's second child was briefly written among the entries. They were referred to as only "King" and "Queen", any name or indication of who the royal powers were was absent. True to his words, King Arnoldus must have been checking her logs. The only information that was written in detail were accounts of the injuries sustained by the Royal Guard or the troublesome births of the servant women.

Afraid to overlook a detail and her own stubbornness to believe that the pages truly held nothing, Dawn went back to the pile of discarded logs and began reading the words again.

And again.

And again.

But there was nothing of use. She threw the logs down and let out a groan. The tome was lost and she was no where near uncovering the truth.

Her hands closed around the small wooden carving. She had not realized when she pocketed the figurine. Yet, now as she sat surrounded by her failures, she held the carving and prayed to the Gods that all was not lost. And as she prayed, to anyone who would be listening, one thought became clear.

The past had been replaced with a sordid version of the truth. And this glass version extended through The Lands, its people ignorant to what they had lost.

***

Her mind did not relent. Once she slipped off into an anxious sleep, she was plagued with dreams of what the castle and the city would have looked like.

The halls full of eager apprentices. The streets littered with people living amongst the Fae. And among those faces was one that could not take his eyes off her. As she walked through the crowd, she always felt his piercing blue gaze on her, stalking her, watching her every move. But it was not unsettling, in a strange way it was comforting. In a way his unrelenting gaze calmed her, reassured her, warmed her. She had lost sight of him, but he had appeared in front of her and his scent—fresh yet laced with his own unique masculine aroma—had invaded her senses. His hand came up to rest on her cheek as she tilted into his touch. He smiled, the sharp point of his fang catching the sunlight. Moving his thumb over her cheek, he spoke.

Stay safe.

She woke to his name on her lips and his scent lingering in the room. Dawn pushed the tangled sheets off her and donned her clothes. She looked at the stone wall, each block meticulously arranged to match the pattern that wrapped around her chamber. The armoire stood against the wall, her riding leathers and sword securely tucked away. Also inside was the now empty satchel. Pushing the final button of her vest through its small hole, she turned away from the wall and set course for the Library.