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“I did,” I said. “And you did that. I’ll need to talk to that collector, so have them brought in. You’re dismissed.”
The historian bowed his head and went back to his desk.
“What if it’s fiction?” Arden asked, her shoulders dropping.
“Maybe it is. But your mother existed, and that one book we found that went blank connected her to this name,” I pointed out. “I doubt it’s entirely fictional. It might have something we can work with.”
She let a breath out of her nose. “True.”
I flipped through a few more pages without absorbing much before Arden stopped me.
“Go back to the table of contents,” she said. I flipped back, and she pointed to a spot low on the page. “There’s a time gap in the entries right here. What happened?”
I went to the entry before the time gap and read it. It was short, just a paragraph, describing how they were going into hiding and would update the journal later. Arden turned the page, which had the fuller update. My stomach tightened in a tighter and tighter knot the more I read it.
I recognized the names here. Nordin, Laurent, and Conrad—my family, Jagger’s family, Lex’s family. Ancestors I’d studied throughout the years. Committing acts of violence that would have made Jagger recoil. Burning down properties. Betraying friends.
Taking out the Aridunn family line one by one. Or at least most of them. A few of them must have survived. But it must have been a massacre.
I sat back in my seat, nausea making the back of my mouth taste sour. Arden folded her hands in her lap, her expression drawn.
“Now I don’t know if I want this book to be real,” she said.
“I don’t want it to be real, either, but I recognize those names. My tutors taught me all about them. Called them heroic and strong.” I raked both hands through my hair and rested my elbows on the table.
We sat in silence for several moments before Arden flipped through the book again.
“Most of them might have died, but clearly, some survived. And one of them was my mother, supposedly.” She stopped at a page in the back. “The family tree.”
She dragged her finger along the various branches. The names changed from Aridunn before the ousting to various different ones after. Her finger landed on the one called Hardy, skimming down to the bottom.
“That’s my mom,” she said softly. “Mara Hardy.”
“Is there anything else about her in the book?” I asked, looking toward the end. “Or does it say anything about the Order at all?”
We read over the last few entries in the hopes that more about Arden’s mother would be there. The final entries were short, more like notes than journal entries. The Order didn’t pop up at all. Arden flipped the book closed, biting her bottom lip.
“Do you think it’s real?” she asked. “Maybe it’s a mix of fact and fiction.”
“I’m not sure,” I replied. “But we can keep searching. It’s the best lead we have, knowing that the Aridunns were Royal at one point. Or at least someone thought they should have been.”
Arden looked down at the book, a swirl of emotions written all over her face. I pushed her ponytail back over her shoulder and rested my hand on the crook of her neck. The tension melted out of her, and she rested her head on my shoulder with a sigh.
Getting this one piece of information—whether it was true or not—was a breakthrough. I had to chase the thread for Arden and give her the thing she’d been chasing her entire life. Hopefully it led to who the Order were, too.
Chapter47
Lex
Another night, another party. At least this one had a purpose and a ceremony—the priest was going to perform the first of several rituals to bless the kingdom before the biggest ritual of them all the night of the eclipse. The mystic element of this event mattered to me more than celebrating it. The ball was just an excuse to gather everyone in their most formal outfits. Or at least the females were going to be in formal outfits.
The males dressed in ceremonial robes, similar to those the priests regularly wore, so getting dressed took all of two seconds. I had to throw it on over my clothes, and I was done. But for Arden, it was going to take a while, so I wanted to keep her company. Relaxing with her and Jagger as she put on a little show in all the options she had was an exercise in self-control for me, but it was more fun than being alone.
Had she invited Flint, too? I wasn’t sure where they stood. And he, of course, hadn’t given me any answers about the spell.
I stretched my legs out on the couch in Jagger’s wing, sipping a glass of whiskey. Arden had put on some of her favorite music as she rifled through the elaborate ballgowns our designer had made for her. Jagger wandered around somewhere behind me, pouring himself another drink. We’d kicked out our aides, leaving our enforcers outside. Some things required privacy, and Arden being mostly naked was definitely one of them.
“I hate this!” Arden cried from the closet. “This dress could be its own province! How many parties and balls and bullshit could we possibly need to attend?”
