Elyria didn’t appreciate the hint of amusement laced through the knight’s words, but after a beat, she relented with a small, grudging nod. “Fine,” she said. “Walk me back, then.” In her chest, her shadows stirred approvingly.
Cedric and Elyria fell into step, side-by-side, silence stretching between them as they wound through the palace. They were climbing the stairs to the second floor when he finally broke it. “You were right, back there.”
Elyria’s brow creased. “About what?”
His mouth tipped to one side. “Everything, probably. But as I don’t want that going to your head, I’ll be more specific.”
She dug her fingers into the smooth banister as she attempted to suppress her grin. “Go on.”
“These weeks of inaction—months, really. I cannot say I understand the king’s motivations for delaying you all. Dark reports have been coming in from along the Chasm, and I have no doubt the Cult of Malakar is behind them, but they’ve gotten rather good at covering their tracks. All trails go cold so quickly. We do not know where they are based or have the smallest clue of where to find Malchior.”
“I could find out,” Elyria said, fists clenching at her side. “I could find him. If only your king—and your lord—would let us do what we came here to.”
“I have no doubt,” Cedric said, his voice low. “Truly. I only wish I could make the same claim. I wish I could make good on my promise to you.”
Elyria’s steps faltered just as she reached the top of the stairs. She turned to face him. “Your promise?”
His face fell. “In Castle Lumin, I told you I would not let either of them get away with this. Yet I am no closer to finding Malchior or Zephyr than I was the day we parted. Nor have I ascertained a single clueas to Princess Selenae’s existence—let alone her whereabouts—despite having nearly read myself blind for weeks.” He exhaled. “Tristan and I only just returned from our research visit to the Academy Library in Paideus yesterday before the ball.”
Things began connecting in Elyria’s mind—where Cedric had been, why she’d thought he wouldn’t be here at all. She felt a visceral pang in her chest, something uncomfortable hitting right behind her ribs, at the thought of that having been the case. What if he hadn’t been here? What if she’d never seen him again?
“I was only trying to help,” Cedric continued, pulling her from her spinning thoughts. “I thought that offering an escort was a solid middle ground that would assuage the fears on both sides. We could get your party moving faster, while allowing the king some reassurances that you wouldn’t be immediately murdered upon setting foot in the first town you visited.”
His shoulders were tense, his jaw ticking. As if the idea of said murder was deeply angering. Elyria thought the air might’ve grown a degree hotter.
“Cedric, it’s?—”
“I didn’t realize,” he continued, “that my suggestion would come off as quite so...”
“Quite so what? Patronizing? Condescending?”
He gave her a sidelong glance. “I was going to say ‘protective.’ ”
“Protective,” she echoed flatly. “Because I need protecting, do I?”
“You were the target last night. That attack, those blades, they were meant for you.” His voice was strained, his hands flexing at his sides, like he was holding himself back from reaching for her.
Elyria found herself wishing he wouldn’t.
She forced a casual expression onto her face, tried to muster her usual flippancy. “I’m a big girl, Sir Knight. Your concern is noted but wholly unnecessary. Why don’t you leave the big scary cultists to me, and you stay focused on whatever you have been able to find about the lost princess?”
Cedric’s expression tightened. “I told you, I haven’t been able to find any?—”
“Surely, there must besomething. What about the personwho—how did Aurelia put it—‘spirited away’ the young princess before Malakar’s attack?”
“A ‘well-meaning soul,’ she called them.” His gaze went distant, like he was categorically running through some mental list. “I think...I think you may be right. Amongst the many, many,manycastle records I parsed through, there were numerous lists of those who served in the castle. I remember coming across some references to Princess Selenae’s sylvan nanny.”
“And? Do you recall the name? A description? Where they hailed from?”
“I cannot remember the details.” Cedric blew out a slow breath. “You truly cannot comprehend just how many records Tristan and I looked at. But I will write to Magister Yvan immediately and have him send a transcription of the pages.” He paused. “It’s not much of a lead.”
“A breadcrumb,” Elyria said with a casual shrug, but there was no denying the spark of excitement that flared in her chest. “But I’ll take it. Sylvan lifespans outlast fae by centuries. Their memories are long, and their communities are small. It is entirely possible someone there remembers, that they could help.”
“You would go all the way to Elderglade to talk to them? To Verdentia, even?” His expression morphed into one of disbelief, as though he could hardly fathom the thought of traveling to one of the sylvan settlements.
“No,” said Elyria.
Cedric’s face relaxed.
