Page 104 of The Seeker

I’d taken a bite of fruit and it soured on my tongue. “You aren’t going to reinstate the forced military service, right?”

“No,” he affirmed. “I’m hoping we have peace, but in the meantime, I’ll accept the guards my father sends. I’ve also spoken to Karl about forming a militia.”

“A militia?” I tilted my head to the side.

“A volunteer military force. People could sign up and we would train from time to time—maybe one fortnight a season—but they would ultimately continue the rest of their lives as normal unless we needed them.”

“I like the sound of that,” I admitted, thinking of how many had been forced into the military and servitude over the years by Adis and his father.

“I do too,” Otho replied as he took his own bite of eggs. “I hope there are enough willing people left.”

We ate quietly for a few moments, until Otho spoke again. “You’re going to need more books, Runa—to accomplish what you want to do.”

“I know.” I set my fork down, my appetite evaporating. “I wish I had the ones you left in Shianp.”

He blew out a breath, resting his own fork so he could run his hands through his black locks, our shadows dancing on the wall. “I’ve heard . . . rumors . . . of how the books are penned.”

I swallowed.

“I don’t know much, other than there’s a scribe who works with the gods to create the books. Or used to, anyway.”

“There’s only one?” It was hard to hold onto the amazing feelings of the last few days as the truth hit me in the gut.

“I think so. I’m going to travel to visit my father again, to see what information I can gather, and hopefully bring the books I left there back to Heimland.”

In an instant, I remembered how he had lied to me and I felt a stabbing in my chest, forcing me to shift away. Though we’d reconciled, there was still some part of me that was angry that it’d happened in the first place. “If there is anything else you’ve been lying to me about, or hiding from me, you better tell me now,” I demanded.

He shook his head, his hand reaching for me before dropping down to my side. “I promise, that’s it, Runa. You already know that I kept an eye on you regardless, and I heard what you did in Malheim.”

I grimaced. Those certainly hadn’t been my finest moments, but I didn’t regret them as much as I thought I would. I gave in to my heart, leaning back against Otho. He pushed our half-eaten breakfast away, wrapping his arms around me. “I promise I will never lie to you again, okay? You have my word.”

That was all my heart needed to stop pinching me, and I returned to our previous conversation. “How long will you be gone?”

“I’m unsure,” he admitted, his thumb rubbing calming patterns on my bicep. “Probably at least a fortnight. My father will take some convincing to hand over the books.”

His words were interrupted by a knock at the door and, realizing I still hadn’t dressed, I sank deeper beneath the covers as Otho rose to answer it.

I didn’t see who it was, but I thought I recognized the voice as one of the men we’d traveled to Shianp with. They spoke, Otho’s body blocking their view into the room. When he closed the door, he rushed to pull on his pants.

“Something bad?” I asked as I searched the floor for my pants and my shirt.

“No, but duty calls.” He breathed, bending over to lace up his boots. “I was already planning to leave for Shianp last night—before I saw you. But I will leave tonight after I handle Nel’s issue.”

“Oh. Nothing serious?”

“Nothing serious,” he promised, leaning down to capture my lips with his. “Can you make it back home okay?”

“I can,” I promised, fighting the urge to reach for him and pull him back into bed.

“Then I will see you in the dream space,” he said, tossing me one last look before ducking out the door.

It felt . . . off . . . to be in the barracks without Otho, and though it didn’t take long to redress and head for the door, I already missed him, and I could feel the renewed bond pulsating in my chest like a beacon.

I was able to duck out of the barracks, book tucked in my corset, without being noticed, chewing on my lip as I debated whether or not to sever it again.

On the one hand, I did forgive Otho for the lies. But on the other hand, I wasn’t sure I wanted Otho hearing the thoughts I projected on accident, as I still wasn’t certain I’d mastered that aspect of shielding. At least, not enough to be confident in my abilities.

Coming to a resolution, I paused halfway through my walk home, ducking off the path to meditate and cut the renewed glowing thread from where it resided in my chest.