Page 82 of Heirs of the Cursed

Darcia hesitated. “Not that I remember. I mean, I used to go out in the woods a lot in the winter, and my father kept scolding me for not wearing enough warm clothes. But beyond my feverish periods in the winter and allergies in the spring . . . Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Harg nodded, an indecipherable feeling running across his face.

Relief, perhaps?

He held out his hand to her one last time and she took it with a greater assurance than she’d felt before. The general could hide under the mask of his duty, but if he’d shown her anything that night, it was that there was much more beneath it.

“I look forward to seeing you again, Miss Voreia,” he bid farewell, leaving a chaste kiss on her hand.

Darcia smiled at him again with sincerity. “Have a good night, General.”

As soon as she said those words, the Chaser disappeared into the crowd.

When the music died down, Gion and Darcia returned to the hut. He asked her about the bouquet of roses in her hands, but she didn’t dare to tell him that it was a gift from Harg Koller. It would be an unnecessary worry for her father, especially considering that he wanted her to leave the city because of the soldiers’ presence.

They chatted about the party while they drank tea from their old mugs. Her father told her about his fellow scholars with whom he’d been reminiscing about the old times, and not long after, Darcia bade her father goodnight.

She took off her high shoes, the exhaustion that coursed through her body made her think that she could sleep forever. She placed the bouquet of roses in a beautiful vase before turning to the open window in her bedroom.

The name of a certain unbearable thief crossed her mind, but the sight of a female silhouette sitting on the mattress of the bed made Darcia breathe normally again.

“Hi,” Caeli greeted.

Darcia dropped her shoes and ran to embrace her girlfriend. “By the Triad, Cally! Are you all right?”

“I am, so is Sadira. I left her at her hut fifteen minutes ago.”

“What happened?” Darcia broke away from her and guided them both to sit on her mattress. “I need you to tell me everything.”

“I will, but first . . .” Caeli pointed to the pillows. “I believe you have an admirer.”

Darcia turned her head. On her side table lay another bouquet; this one composed of red tulips. Her mouth fell open in astonishment.

“What is this?”

“I think there’s a note in it,” Caeli said.

An envelope as golden as Darcia’s hair lay slightly crumpled. It had no name, no signature. A scent of wet earth flooded hersenses. She had to move the paper closer to the candlelight to make out the handwriting. It was rather sloppy, and the strokes were quick and uneven, but it was clear that the author had tried hard enough to make it legible.

Because you actually like these.

She didn’t need a signature to know who it was: her friend from the shadows, the man from the woods. Alasdair had been so meticulous in his investigation that, not only had he discovered her name, but also her favorite flowers.

“Whose is it from?” Caeli asked curiously.

Darcia smiled. “A friend.”

Caeli read the note over her girlfriend’s shoulder, frowning at the encrypted words. Her arms hugged herself in a protective way Darcia had never seen her do before and her brown eyes drifted toward the dark corner of the room, as if her thoughts were consuming her. Upon noticing it, Darcia turned to brush a dark lock of curly hair away from her face and caressed her cheek.

“I can sense your fear,” she said, meeting her gaze with her own. “Are you jealous, Caeli Ndiaye?”

“No,” she answered immediately. When Darcia raised an eyebrow, she sighed. “Maybe . . . You look happy and it would break my heart if it were due to someone else.”

“I’ve been in love with you for the last six years. I plan to be for many more,” she assured her before kissing her hands. “You have nothing to worry about. He’s someone who seems to be willing to watch my back without knowing me too well.”

Caeli nodded, satisfied with the answer. “That’s all that matters, then.”

Without letting go of her hand, Darcia set the bouquet down on the bedside table and looked at her girlfriend. She couldn’tbelieve she felt insecure when she was the person she loved most in the world. She’d hate herself for making her doubt of her worth or the love she had for her, so Darcia dragged her toward the bed.

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