Page 68 of House of Ydril

“How did you know?” my assistant asks, frowning as he walks up to me and leans on the couch in the center of my study.

I smile at him. He’s proven to be very helpful, but he’s new. He’s no idea how repetitive dealing with these people can be.

“Whenever there’s any trouble with the Scions,” I reply with a sigh, “one of them comes to me to suggest that exact same thing.”

“But how can that be?” he asks, obviously confused. “It would be against all laws. That’s what we agreed when we signed the Treaty. We rule over ours and the Scions rule over theirs.”

“Sure,” I start, talking to myself more than Max, “but it’s not that the idea is without merit. For us to rule over them. I mean, we have our problems, but they’re nothing compared to theirs.”

Max just blinks at me, which makes me snap out of it. “Nevermind,” I say as I clap my hands and turn my chair back to face the desk, “you can tell them all to make appointments, but I want them out of my quarters ASAP.”

As soon as I hear him leave, I forget all about the Obstructor and the pressure from the vampire court.

It’s barely been more than two hours since she told me the truth about everything. The stone, someone trying to harness its power, some bloodbath that’s bound to happen during the Third Round of the Trials… But it feels like forever.

I shouldn’t have let Nuala lead her away from me and back to her room. I shouldn’t have done it, I think to myself as it rips into me. The image of her all shaken up, those big brown eyes looking up at me filled with guilt and worry. I want to murder someone, but there’s no one to murder for it.

I decide to think about the best course for the bloodbath investigation, but I just end up checking my phone every two seconds. Hoping to find out where she is, how she’s doing,whatshe’s doing. Not like I’d have anyone to find out from, I snarl at myself.

I should just stop obsessing over her. But even if I managed to do that, there’d still be the matter of the bloodbath. So however much I’d like to just make it all disappear, it needs acting on. Instead of just sitting here, I should arrange a meeting with my uncle and the Pied Piper, relate everything I’ve been told and ask for their opinion. I’ve been through countless fucked-up situations, that’s what being a prince will do to you, but this is unlike any of them.

Having made my decision, I get up, whip out my phone and call the Pied Piper’s assistant.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the girl answers with the usual tinge of awe in her voice, as if she can’t believe she’s speaking to me directly.

And I open my mouth, but picturing the assistant makes my mind flood with the image of her wiping blood off Longborn’s shocked face. And then there’s Longborn asking me not to say anything to the Pied Piper.

“Hello? Are you there?” the assistant asks.

“I am, Lavinia,” I blurt out, suddenly changing my mind. “I apologize, it seems I’ve dialed the wrong number.”

“That’s perfectly okay, Your Majesty…”

I hang up and I just stand there for a moment. I don’t think Longborn is right. I don’t think it was the Pied Piper who killed Professor Mistila. I think the glamoring that was done to her included a sort of safety measure. If ever the spell is broken, the person kills themselves.

Of course, I could bring Longborn all the evidence in the world and she still wouldn’t listen. She may not be as hot-headed as I thought her to be, but she is stubborn, that’s for sure. Maybe it’s for the best. Whatever it is that’s happening, I have a nagging suspicion she’s not just a pawn in it, which means she could eventually get killed herself.

A part of me screams, “What the fuck are you doing? Are you fucking stupid?” But I can no longer fight the urge to go see her. Make sure she didn’t take off on her own, putting herself in even more danger.

So instead of arranging a meeting with the Pied Piper and my uncle, I leave my quarters, stopping in front of the mirror to smooth out my shirt and my hair. Then I rush to the Ydril tower, not pausing until I’m in the seventeenth-floor common room.

And there it is, 85. I heard her give her room number to someone once. I didn’t want to remember it, but I did. I walk up to her door and stop.

Why am I so curious to see her room, I think to myself, but the very next second, a group of girls barge into the common room and come to a screeching halt as soon as they spot me standing there.

There’s a second of silence before they all burst out giggling. I just look at them, my eyebrow quirked. Their faces flushed, they instantly go silent, disappear into one of the other four rooms and bang the door shut.

I turn back to Longborn’s door, but I have to force myself to do it, my heart throbbing at the very thought of actually finding myself in there with her. And just as I’m about to raise my arm and give a sharp knock, the door flings open and I find myself face to face with Nuala.

She blinks at me and takes a step back.

“Is Longborn in there?” I ask.

Before her friend can give me an answer, the one I’ve come to look for peers from behind her shoulder. “What is it?” she asks, her voice low and tired.

I glance around and say, “I don’t want to talk like this.”

For a second, she doesn’t move and I think she’ll say no. But then she nods and the two of them take a step back to let me in.

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