Page 63
The voice was not one she had heard before, and it carried through the perfect quiet of the library, drawing Elowynn’s attention from the text in her hands. It seemed her family’s reputation had preceded her, even into the more secluded corners of the Spire.
An Astrari male stood several shelves away, watching her with a guarded expression. He was perhaps several turnings older than her, with dark hair threaded with fine strands of silver due to continued exposure of resonance. Like Master Vaelor, he wore layered sapphire robes adorned with thick observatory sigils, though the embroidery was worked in silver rather than gold.
His slate-colored eyes made her on edge; she could tell he was overly perceptive.
“You've put me at a disadvantage,” Elowynn replied in a kind tone.
A small smile touched his mouth. “Korvel Thorne.”
The name meant nothing to her. Apparently, it should have. The moment he introduced himself, hushed whispers spread among the nearby scholars, while recognition flashed across more than one face.
The one title she caught whispered from behind the shelf she sat nearest was Council Archivist.
Ah. That explained the shift in atmosphere.
Korvel approached in slow steps, his hands clasped behind his back. “Your arrival has generated considerable interest throughout the Spire.”
Elowynn sat still and resisted the urge to sigh. “I have heard that often.”
“House Selvicta carried influence within Veylspire before its fall.” His gaze remained thoughtful on her. “Particularly among the Conclave.”
There it was again. Always the factions. Always woven beneath everything.
“And the Collegium?” Elowynn asked before she could stop herself. She swore she could feel a collective inhale of breath from around her.
Something dark in Korvel’s expression flickered before disappearing, composure slipping over his refined features once more.
“The Collegium values innovation,” he said, his tone calm, but Elowynn was certain she could hear contempt beneath it. “The Conclave values restraint. Preservation.” His eyes sharpened on her. “Veylspire survives because both exist.”
Interesting answer, she thought.
Before she could press further, he gave her a tight-lipped smile. “You must forgive me, however. I have some important matters to tend to before the final bell. I had only wanted to make myself known to you as I had seen you a few times since your arrival.” He inclined his head politely. “Welcome to Veylspire, Scholar Selvicta. I am certain we will see more of one another.” Then he turned and disappeared deeper into the library halls.
Elowynn glared after him. “I forgot how pompous nobility and high political ranking Astrari were,” she muttered. There were sounds of muffled chuckles and even some offended gasps from around her, and Elowynn had the immediate regret of voicing that aloud.
Oops.
Lora had finally rounded the corner of a nearby shelf, still staring after him with visible alarm.
“Well,” she huffed. “You attract important people rather quickly, don’t you?”
Elowynn, having the good sense to hide her embarrassed face behind a star chart, mumbled her response. “That does not feel like a compliment.”
“It absolutely isn’t.” Lora turned back to peer over the top of the chart. She put her finger along the edge and pulled it down a bit, revealing the hiding Elowynn behind it.
“I just want to study. Not play political games,” she grumbled.
Lora just smirked at her before shrugging lightly. “Then perhaps stop letting everyone else decide which game you are playing.”
The final evening bell tolled somewhere deep within the Spire; night had blanketed the city shortly after.
Elowynn had taken her time returning to her quarters as she walked beneath a slow fall of sparkling ice. There were no clouds overhead. The stars shone clear and bright above the observatory domes, yet tiny crystals continued to float through the air around her, catching the moonlight like fragments of shattered glass. The phenomenon still felt strange to her. In Lumenshire, snow arrived with storms. Here, the mountains seemed capable of conjuring winter from a clear sky.
Everything was so beautiful.
Everything was so lonely.
She paused beside her window before carefully pulling Caelyn’s journal from her satchel. The worn leather felt reassuring beneath her fingertips.