Page 68 of The Seeker

And two, neither one of us had mentioned Collum during the conversation.

CHAPTER 22

Luckily for me, the innkeeper was kind, allowing me to sit in a chair she pulled into the lobby as I waited for Otho to return from his errand.

There was something so luxurious about being able to simply sit there, in a room, in a city I didn’t belong in, and think. So much of what had changed me over the past year had happened so fast, and for the first time, I was able to breathe and reflect, and ask myself what it was that I wanted to ask from the king.

I didn’t have an answer.

I knew what I didn’t want to happen, which was for anyone else, including myself, to suffer under the hand of a man, or be forced to take Signa’s position as the matron of the coven. But the issue was, I didn’t know what would help the majority of people either.

It wasn’t until the sun faded from the sky, the street turning a strange hue of pink, that Otho returned.

I stood as his boots knocked against the floor, but his head was down, a stack of books tucked under his arm. He was nearly to the stairs when my presence finally registered.

“Runa, what are you doing down here?”

I glanced back toward the street, knowing Milo must’ve been long gone. “I didn’t know what room we were in, nor did I have a key.”

“Oh,” he breathed, not seeming like his normal self at all. He pulled a heavy silver key from his pocket and pressed it into my hand. “Why didn’t you call for me?”

I shrugged, not knowing how to explain how exhausted the conversation with my brother had made me.

“Two-oh-two. I thought you would spend more time with your brother.”

It was a struggle to swallow over the lump in my throat, a strange hum in the air between us. “I thought so, too.”

I followed him up the stairs, unlocking the door for him. It wasn’t until he tossed the books on the bed that I made the connection, reeling back.

“Otho, why do you have Seid books?”

He glanced at the pile but returned to the task of unlacing his boots. “I am a seeker, you know.”

My lips twisted as I realized Otho and I had never discussed this. Yes, Seid lore dictated that in a weighted pair, one was a seeker and the other a reader, but since a seeker could technically also read, I’d never taken the old lore too seriously. Especially because I’d taught myself seeking, or what I thought was seeking, during my time in Malheim.

There was a lump in my throat as I eyed the books lying innocently on the bed. “What are you going to do with them?” I asked, chewing on the edge of my lip.

“I’m not sure,” he replied, moving to look out the window in our room. “I didn’t want to leave them, though. I don’t want them to fall into the wrong hands.”

Even though I knew I wouldn’t be able to tell what magic the books gave, I still picked them up one by one, flipping through them. “Are there Seid here in Shianp?”

“I assume so. But I was never involved in the community much. We never attended coven meetings.”

I moved the books from the bed to dresser. “Well, we can burn them as soon as we find a room with a fireplace.”

Otho turned to face me, leaning his long body against the window, blocking most of the light into the room as he rested on the sill. “Askel will be upset.”

“Did he see you with the books?” I questioned. I knew Askel was desperate for magic, but I was still unwilling to risk the books falling into the wrong hands.

“No,” he grumbled.

“Then we can burn them before Askel sees them,” I surmised. Otho was conflicted, his emotions filtering over to me. I’d hoped that suggesting burning them would make him feel less conflicted, but now I knew something else was going on. My voice was barely above a whisper when I spoke again. “Why don’t you want to burn them, Otho? You hate magic.”

“That’s not true,” he said with a shake of his head. “I understand it was created to achieve balance, I . . .”

“You what?” I prodded.

He looked up at last, turmoil turning in his eyes. “The reality is, as viscount, I need to consider all my options.” He leaned his head back against the window, closing his eyes once more.