Page 101 of The Crimson Walls Of Algorath

The room swam. She had done everything in her power to keep her sister’s secrets. To keep the truth of her mission from reaching anyone as loose-lipped as Dierdre Kolson. “What did you hear?”

“Evidently,” Revelie said with a glance at the door, “she heard from a Lady from Monsumbra that no one has seen Ariadne. No carriage to or from the Caldwell Estate. No mourning ceremonies. Nothing. If not for the Lord Governor’s comings and goings, the entire town would have wondered if they had a Lord at all.”

Nausea ripped through Emillie’s gut. She would not be sick while wearing this dress, though, so she sucked in a steadying breath and said, “Who told you this?”

Revelie’s eyes flashed. “Hyacinth Hooke. She was worried these rumors were true. I told her not to believe them.”

Gods, if Hyacinth had heard of such gossip, that did not bode well. The young Caersan kept as far away from the usual rumor mills as possible, and yet there she was, indulging along with everyone else.

“Perhaps Hyacinth will tell others it is nonsense.” Emillie prayed that would be the case. If she could get out there and stop the rumors, perhaps there was some way to salvage the story yet.

But Revelie did not look convinced. “There is more.”

Emillie bit her lip. Of course there was. “Get me out of this dress. I cannot breathe.”

In a flash, the modiste set to work. Perhaps she had noticed the green tint of Emillie’s face. Perhaps it was the sweaty flush that had climbed up her blue-webbed neck. Perhaps the shaking hands had given her away. Whatever it was, Revelie recognized the look well enough to know when her beautiful craftsmanship was about to be ruined.

In naught but her underthings, Emillie perched precariously on the edge of an armchair. Heat pulsed through her body, and her breath hitched. “What else?”

With the gown safely out of harm’s way, Revelie joined her. She settled onto the couch, watching Emillie with a wary eye. “Lady Teaglow came in to have a dress altered and told me that her husband heard from a merchant that Ariadne had been seen in Algorath.”

“Did she tell anyone else?”

“No.” Revelie twisted her fingers together, a motion she never made. Such anxious tendencies only made Emillie’s stomach knot even harder. “I told her it was nonsense, and she promised to quell any such rumors.”

Emillie swallowed, a hollow feeling in the back of her throat spelling trouble. “Thank you.”

“Have you heard from her?” Revelie searched her face. What for, Emillie did not know.

Still, Emillie shook her head. Between her nerves, her father and Loren breathing down her neck, and now rampant rumors, she did not know what else could possibly go wrong. She needed the wedding to come to its conclusion so she and Alek could return to the Waer Province, far from Laeton, the gossip of the Season, and all the troubles that came with it.

“I do not even know whether or not that merchant could be correct.” Emillie stared at her own palms in her lap for a long moment. “If she went to Algorath to find Azriel herself…then it does not bode well for either of them.”

“Why do you say that?” Revelie’s tone was one of surprise.

Emillie scoffed and looked up at her. “My sister? In a city? She can hardly go into Laeton without something holding her back. I fear if she is in the desert, I may never see her again.”

Her voice cracked at the final words. She had done nothing but shield her sister whenever possible since her return from the mountains. The idea that she was going up against mages with next to nothing in her arsenal pushed Emillie right over the edge.

She flew from the chair and to the veranda doors. After a quick fumble with the locks, she launched outside, where she hung over the railing and emptied her stomach into the bushes below. The cool summer night air clung to her clammy forehead as she spat the vile taste from her mouth.

Revelie joined her a moment later, brushing her hair back from her face before offering a kerchief. With a small, grateful smile, Emillie took it and let the tears, summoned by the sudden sick, flow freely.

“What if I never see her again?” she croaked, voicing the same fear for a second time. “What if I sent her away and…and it is all my fault?”

“It is not your fault,” Revelie said and pulled her into her arms.

It had been so long since someone had held her like that, Emillie froze at first. She was so accustomed to hugging her sister in such a manner, assuaging the terrors or easing her pain; to have it done to her instead felt odd. Before long, however, she melted into her friend’s arms and cried.

“You did what you believed to be right.” Revelie’s voice was soft and calm. “You did precisely what she would have done for you.”

Emillie nodded, knowing all too well the number of times Ariadne had taken the brunt of their father’s wrath to shield her from it. Her sister, though frightened of so much as a shadow, would have stood up to anyone to keep her safe. Even her worst nightmares.

Gods, she had stood up to her worst nightmares, and rather than falter, she flourished and learned to love the ones who had hurt her so much. Emillie was so proud of how far her sister had come.

And so scared of what it meant for her safety.

Soldiers overran Monsumbra in the few days Madan spent in Algorath. When he had left with Brutis, there had been official word of several companies taking their places across Eastwood Province. Upon his return, however, he found the provincial capital turned into a beating heart. Crimson uniforms bled through the streets of the town, pulsing with the market crowds and surging into the outer reaches like an open wound.

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