Before we left, I grasped the crystals in my pocket and called forth my Destruction Magic. I ignored the voice in my head, coaxing me further into its embrace, as the familiar scent of ashes and embers floated through the air. I sent a trickle of my magic to the body on the table, all evidence of what transpired here tonight reduced to a pile of ash.
With that done, I pulled Alois from the Academy dungeons and up the private staircase to the room we used for this exact purpose. I washed us both quickly before tucking Alois into the bed. I slammed my body on the couch, sleep overtaking me before my head even hit the armrest.
Chapter 52
Faylinn
The morning after my arrival in Vespera I awoke abruptly in the sitting room to the sound of feet and hushed voices. Tried as I might, I couldn’t stay awake for Rohak to return, and he either was too busy with Lord d’Refan, or forgot about me entirely. I shook off the creeping feeling of inadequacy and rejection as I pulled myself to a sitting position on the couch.
I groaned involuntarily while stretching my neck.
Note to self, couches are not made to sleep on.
It was deceptive, really. The couch looked plush and ridiculously comfortable, but that proved to be a complete lie this morning.
My muscles spasmed and my bones clicked as I stretched. I was interrupted from my morning stretch when I heard a small scream and the clattering of plates and silverware as they hit the ground.
“Oh, shit!” someone, a woman, exclaimed.
I jumped from the couch, suddenly extremely alert after the cacophony of noise, and looked around for the threat.
My heartbeat eased and my breath slowed as I noticed the cause of the commotion. A woman, a servant judging by her plain grey dress and severe bun, hastily scooped the upended food from the floor back onto thetray she dropped.
“Here, let me help you,” I said as I walked over to where she was crouched. She startled again and hastily scooped up the tray.
“No, no, that’s quite alright, miss, I can do it. It is my job after all.” Her face was downcast, and the tray shook in her hands.
“Sure, but I can help. I’m perfectly capable of cleaning up a mess,” I said. The woman fidgeted before setting the tray on the table and lifting her head slightly, her eyes tracking the scars and tattoos that littered the exposed skin on my arms.
The attention and silence made me jumpy, and I absently scratched at the scars, my fingers lingering over one of the runes tattooed into my skin.
“Is it true?” she whispered suddenly, and I had to bend down to hear her.
“Is what true?”
What could she have possibly heard about me? I arrived less than a day ago.
“That you’re the Bondsmith? You can activate runes that no one’s ever seen before?” There was a note of reverence in her voice, but I couldn’t help a laugh that escaped, my previous anxiety gone, and I dropped my hand from my scars.
“Can I use runes? Yes. Do I use runes that are more advanced than your traditional acolyte? Sure. Am I the Bondsmith?” I chuckled again. “The Bondsmith is a children’s story. So, no. I’m no Bondsmith. Everyone can use runes; magic is innate in our blood. I just happen to know more than others.” I shrugged my shoulders at the end, but the woman didn’t seem deterred in the slightest. In fact, she seemed more revenant than before.
We stared at each other in slightly awkward and uncomfortable silence for a few moments before I broke it.
“Is that, uh, my breakfast?” I asked, gesturing to the selection of baked goods, fresh fruit, and some sort of chilled orange meat I had never seen before, that was now entirely in disarray.
“Oh!” The woman jumped. “Yes! I am so sorry, Bondsmith, I can go fetch fresh food if you’d like?”
I shook my head. “I’m not the Bondsmith. Please, call me Fay. And that won’t be necessary, thank you. This food is perfectly fine. I’ve eaten worse.” I gave her a smile and she blanched.
“Yes, well, great. I should really get going, Bondsmith. Er, Fay. Miss Fay.” She curtsied hurriedly and tried to run from the room.
“Wait!” I called, throwing my hand out to stop her progress. She whirled by the door and regarded me with wide doe-brown eyes.
How old is she?
“Yes, Miss Fay?”
“Where is the General? He was supposed to visit last night, and he never came . . .” I trailed off at the rising blush in her cheeks.
