Page 158 of The Thief and the Traitor Bride

Unsurprisingly, Caspian did not look convinced—but he didn’t protest, either.

It took Nore the better part of an hour to lay out her notes, then to transcribe the encoded pieces into common Idistran. Caspian reviewed the notes as she did, reading over the lists with a growing furrow in his brow. He switched to the transcription of the spell while she continued her deciphering, taking frequent breaks to pace.

“What are you thinking?” Nore asked when she was finally finished.

He shook his head. “It all seems like… a mess,” he admitted. He pulled one of the earlier lists of Gail’s toward him, one that listed the different events in a Nestrian house. “He was tracking droughts and surges, but it looks like he didn’t start until the big drought of power last Wintertide.”

“Perhaps they didn’t start until Wintertide,” Nore said. She flipped back in her notes, finding what she recorded at Aren and Patran’s house. “Didn’t that solicitor say things weren’t actually that bad?”

“Not necessarily,” Caspian said, leaning over her to pull one of the other lists forward. “There were definitely ebbs and flows in Eprain and Luthar, and some in Nestria—not nearly as bad as Wintertide, but I was there. It wasn’t perfect.”

“That would’ve been helpful to know,” Nore muttered, “weeks ago.”

Caspian ignored her. There was no point reminding her that, weeks ago, if he’d told her that information, it would’ve gone to Celestine.

“The way Lochan power works, every nation sees a renewal when a marriage comes… Hmm.” He frowned—Nore looked over, seeing the list he held. “What do you know of Idistran nobility? High names?”

“Less than I should and more than I want to,” Nore muttered.

Caspian sat back. “High families in Idistra—they follow an ancient custom of true names. I think it’s a Lochan practice, as most things are. They keep the full extent of their name secret until death, at which point it’s written into record, but it’s usually some combination of familial and Auldlochan. They’re used for rituals—marriage, binding, child naming, the like.”

Nore raised an eyebrow. “What’s yours, then?”

“I told you on the day we married,” Caspian said airily. “Do you not remember?”

They’d said a lot of things on the day they married—they had also drunk a lot of wine. “As if I don’t know my own husband’s name. Caspian Elothian Harkan Corrigan Khari.” She aimed a look at him. “I just didn’t realize the name itself held power.”

“Not to you, love,” Caspian said, “because you don’t have the power to do anything with it.”

Nore rolled her eyes.

“Harkan—that’s the one that matters. It’s Auldlochan, like these.”

Nore bit her lip, reading them again. “I don’t know. The letters—I think they represent the states.” She pointed to each as she said, “Luthar, Eprain, Cleoc Strata, Scaela, Nestria. But I don’t know the names, nor the dates.”

Caspian frowned, reading them over. He flipped through them, then hesitated on the last page. “This one,” he said.

[1566] Grakima (M)–L

“Yes?”

“It’s not a common name,” he said.

“So you think this is… what?”

“Well,” Caspian said, his finger skimming the list, then going back to the entry he’d pointed out. “When I was a boy, my mother took me to visit her cousin Luthos once a year. She also went to the family crypt to visit her parents and grandparents. Including my grandmother, Grakima.”

Nore squinted. “It’s that uncommon?”

He tapped the other letters. “M. It means Mage—there’s designations for well, too, and typic. The bolded name doesn’t have a designation because that’s probably the High Sovereign of the Isle, and I think they’re always a well. And the L, like you said, stands for Luthar.” He flipped back to the beginning. “Rasira, the High Sovereign, married a Nestrian in 771—unless she was born in 771. Let’s assume United Common Era, since they’re Gail’s notes, and I assume he’d use continental rather than the destruction/Resurrection denotation they use in Idistra nowadays.”

Nore’s mind spun. She only nodded.

“Then, siblings or cousins—generationally, probably in the same line. Aluna, a mage, married a Luthrite. Isan, a typic, married a Strat—no, a Scaelan.” He flipped to the last page. “And this last one I know, at least: Kitalma, the last High Lady before our Locke, married a Scaelan, too. Her sister, a mage, married a Nestrian.”

Nore pressed a hand to her temple. What were you up to, Gail? “So why… Do you have any idea why this would be relevant?”

“Unless Gail was studying for a very specific history test,” Caspian said, “I have no idea.”