Page 93 of House of Ydril

I wave my hand in dismissal, forcing myself not to snap at her.

She takes a step closer to me. “Quinn, when we learned about the bloodbath, I honestly assumed someone else was following in Baldor’s footsteps. And I didn’t want you to know.” she lets out a sigh. “That I’d fallen for a man like that and been so blind to what was really happening.”

“I don’t care about your excuses,” I snarl at her. “I’m throwing your diary away and I don’t care what happens to you next.”

She practically gets in my face and speaks in a rushed, pleading voice. “Please, little sister, we don’t know anything about the magic tying me to the diary. It might be broken once the Trials are over. I might not get a chance to talk to you ever again.”

I just look at her for a second, fuming. Then I rush to my bed, grab her diary and close it shut.

And just like that, she disappears. I throw myself onto my bed, struggling to stop myself from screaming away all my shock, anger and sadness. To think that all this time, she knew she was my sister and never told me… Never told me anything about my parents, about herself, about me. It hurts like hell, especially now that I can be pretty sure that my parents were killed in the bloodbath. Now I’ll never get to meet them and I’ll never even get to learn anything about them.

But I’ve no time for that. The Third Round is tomorrow and now I’m facing an even more dangerous opponent. Maybe Faust Junior is stronger, but I was counting on my insights into his personality. Faust Senior is a great unknown to me. And I can’t exactly waltz into the Pied Piper’s office and ask for her help. She may be in cahoots with him. But if I don’t do that, what else am I supposed to do?

And then it occurs to me.

Chapter thirty-nine

Ihearaknockat my door and I smell my uncle, but I don’t get up.

But he knocks again.

And again.

Finally, I lift my head off the pillow. “I’m asleep,” I growl from where I’m lying.

But apparently, he doesn’t give a shit. After a moment of silence, he opens the door and walks into my bedroom uninvited. I look up at him and slowly push myself into a seated position.

“The Archduke,” he starts, breaking off to scrunch his nose up at the mess that my room is. There’s clothes and empty bottles of alcohol strewn all over the floor. “The Archduke wants an answer regarding his proposal,” he finishes, turning his eyes back on me.

“What, now, the day before the Third Round?,” I protest, rubbing my eyes because right now even the late afternoon sun is enough to hurt them.

“That would be excellent, yes.”

“Then no,” I say, getting worked up about it, fast. “Remind him that thereissuch a thing as the Treaty. I don’t care if he’s trembling at the very thought of not being able to use mind magic on humans, I won’t let anyone interfere with their right to run their own countries.”

Uncle scowls at me. “Let’s not be rash, Andreas,” he demands. “I don’t care what you decide regarding Erfurt’s proposal, but I need you to give him something, anything.”

I let out a bitter scoff. “So you want me sucking up to the old fart?”

He shakes his head and gives an impatient sigh. “I thought I told you, nephew, how important it is for us to have as many people of power at the Trials tomorrow.”

I want to tell him to fuck off, but I know that wouldn’t go too well. I let out a sigh and say, “Fine. Tell him I’ll come for a personal visit the day after the Trials. He loves attention like that.”

I don’t wait for my uncle’s reaction. I just throw myself back on my stomach, planning on going back to my initial plan, trying to sleep off my hangover.

To my surprise, uncle doesn’t leave. My face pressed against the pillow, I frown.

“Andreas,” I hear him say in a low yet tense voice, “I know what an Olarel girl can do to a man…”

That makes my ears prick up. I push myself back into a seated position and I stare straight into my uncle’s eyes, frowning.

“But you could have any woman you want,” he continues, stressing each word individually. “Why do you choose to degrade yourself like this, forher?”

What the fuck? How does he even know?

I guess it’s the confusion on my face that prompts him to let out a laugh and say, “What, you think your uncle has no eyes? First those articles, then that incident at the Ball, then wasting your time on those little training sessions of yours…”

I feel myself start to fume. “It’s not up to you to determine what constitutes a waste ofmytime, uncle,” I snap at him.

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