Page 226 of Of Sins and Sacrifice

“I smell a male on you.”

“Uhm… probably my betrothed? He was at the palace yesterday,” I stammer.

“No.” One word, full of conviction. “This scent…” he trails off, closing his eyes and breathing me in again. “There is a faint trace of ancient power that clings to it. Something I have never scented before.”

“I’m sure you’re mistaken. What other male could it have been?” I force a laugh. He doesn’t share my amusement.

Cerenios straightens his back.

“Go home, Minerva. Now.”

I don’t wait for him to change his mind and I immediately teleport myself near the palace gates before making my way back inside.

My pulse is through the roof, my breathing erratic as I collapse onto my bed.

I was wrong to think everything was fine. For Cerenios to be at the portal, it can only mean one thing.

Commander Azerius is suspicious of me.

THIRTY-TWO

It’s been morethan a week. Months in Anthropa. Mine hasn’t used my sigil yet.

Although my parents decided to keep me busy by going to seamstress fittings and getting a new wardrobe for the meeting with Theron’s family, not even the prospect of new, pretty gowns has managed to improve my mood.

It’s the night before the meeting, and as I restlessly toss and turn, thinking about Mine, an idea forms into my mind.

The House of Cryos has an armory full of magical objects passed down through generations. I haven’t been there in hundreds of years, but I seem to remember a certain item that might help me.

Getting out of bed, I surreptitiously go to the armory, successfully passing the security wards. There is a myriad of objects inside, ranging from deadly weapons to more mundane items like enchanted jewelry and magical mirrors.

There is a certain mirror I’m looking for that allows you to spy on what a person’s doing at a certain moment in time.

It takes me a few hours of going through the different mirrors before I finally find it.

It’s the size of a table mirror, it’s frame a secret combination of gilded runes that give it its power.

I hide it underneath my nightgown and head back to my room.

Once I’m alone, I prop it on a table and, slicing my finger open, I let a few drops slide in between the carvings of the runes to activate it.

A bright light shines from inside the mirror, and I take my bloodied finger and write Mine’s name on the surface of the mirror.

Lucien de Vitry.

With bated breath, I wait for the image to form on the surface of the mirror.

Moments pass, and nothing happens.

I frown. Did I do something wrong?

To test that the mirror works, I wipe his name and replace it with my own.

Immediately, an image forms of me. It’s as if someone held a camera to my back and filmed me, the image showing me staring into the mirror with a frown between my brows.

All right. So it works. Then why doesn’t it work for him?

A faraway memory drifts into my mind of Tommy mentioning Mine’s full name is Lucian Valerion de Vitry.

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