Page 49 of The Ballad of a Bard

“I want to say no, but I truly don’t know.” West let out a breath and swiped the parchment off the table. “I’ll post a guard alongside Cobalt’s bed, however, to help ease your concern.” He tore it apart, tossing the scraps into his wastebasket by his desk’s edge. “And rest assured, Leysa won’t let anything happen to him under her scrutinising care.”

Crimson chewed on her lip, her fingers tapping against her defined bicep. She wasn’t large, but there was more muscle on her than he normally saw in any females other than Satori. “Who would know that we’re looking for my father?”

“Did you mention to anyone here that we’re searching for him?” He crossed over to the chair and plopped down, setting his elbows across the wood.

“Osira walked into the library as I was reading a book about the Saints. She offered up some advice about finding him but said that you already let her know why I was here. The real reason, anyways.” She corrected herself. “But the Empress doesn’t seem the type to send something ominous like that.”

“No,” West agreed. “She doesn’t. I don’t think that there is a violent bone in her body, Saint or no Saint.”

Crimson hopped onto his desk, tucking her legs under her and staring directly at him. “You don’t think it’s Altivar, do you?”

He scoffed. “The Prince may be sure of himself, and willing to do just about anything, but even I don’t think he’d stoop to this level of lowness. It’s too petty, too dirty for him.”

She groaned loudly, letting her head fall into her awaiting palms. “This is horrible. How are we supposed to find my father, keep this facade up,andprotect Cobalt all at the same time?”

He chuckled but understood her worry. “Not good at multitasking, then I take it?”

“Terrible, as a matter of fact.” She mumbled.

West let his arms fall, meeting the wood surface. “We’ll figure it out, Crimson. Nothing bad is going to happen to your brother. It’s most likely just someone’s wretched idea of a taunt, nothing more. They know that you and your brother are under my protection as my wards. Anyone with common sense, especially anyone who knows who I am, won’t try anything.”

She didn’t peek up from her arms.

West sighed, allowing the small smile for a mere second. “Come on.” He pushed out of his chair as the fabric creaked, standing to his full height and offering a hand towards her.

“Where are we going?” Her legs dangled off the surface as she untucked them. Her fingers brushed against his and the cool curve of the moon sliced through him at the contact. West tugged her off his desk and motioned for her to follow. He dropped her hand once her feet hit the carpet, flexing his palm as if he could still sense that rampant tingling.

“To the healing wards. To visit Cobalt and so I can show you that he’s perfectly safe within these walls.” He opened the doorand Crimson nearly skipped down the hall, as if she needed his permission to visit her sibling.

“Afterwards, we can start looking at maps of Hisaith for a better idea of where Heartache might be hiding.” He shoved his hands into his trousers, walking alongside her. “I think I have a general whereabout of where we might locate him.”

“I’m afraid I won’t be much help regarding his current whereabouts. The last time I saw him, Cobalt had just been born and my mother died.” She informed him with a melancholic resonance.

West hated the way she sounded when she spoke about her father. It was hatred and sorrow and love all bundled in one mess of emotion. It was desire and pity and fury that coated her tongue, her mouth when she talked about his absence. Her face always contorted into a painting of anger, of madness, of depression and remembrance that he wanted to smear with a caress of his thumb across the paint of her feelings. She was lovely, even then. But West enjoyed the way she shone so brilliantly that she could have been one of the brightest stars in the night, and preferred it to her dripping midnight blue.

His jaw twitched, and he tensed. “It’s never made sense why he left. Heartache, out of all the Saints, was completely devoted to his human lover. When we heard that she died, and he left you both behind, we were all flabbergasted that he returned to us.”

“I don’t understand it either.” But that was anger firming in her expression, her hands curling into fists.

He didn’t know how to help fix that missing part of her, if even bringing Heartache back would heal anything. There would still be that sticky residue of his abandonment within her that would remain for quite some time.

They walked in silence for a good while.

They passed the painted floors and floral verandas, turned down corners and strolled past the chequered tiles. There was a hum of activity in the air from the other servants that milled about the hallways, but he felt a strange tension building up with every second that no conversation flowed between them.

There was an obvious conflict warring within her as she gazed off somewhere in the distance, and he wondered if she was trying to think of something to say to him. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable per say, but it didn’t feel right to him. Not for them.

So he asked, “What do you think will be the first thing you say to him when you see him again?”

“You meanifI see him again?” Crimson glanced towards him as she brushed a strand of cranberry behind her ear. It was loose today, in a silky curtain that cut off at her shoulder blades.

“Not so certain that we’ll find him?” West didn’t blame her for her lack of certainty. The Saint was persnickety and could be very troublesome to find.

Crimson shook her head, folding her arms behind her back. “No. There’s no guarantee that we will. He could hear that we’re searching for him and go even deeper into hiding.”

Her lack of faith in him was astounding, even for the past mistakes he’d made. Even if he’d left, he’d been there for a large portion of her life. Enough so, that made West even more curious to understand his reasoning for leaving like that. There had to be more to the story that none of them knew. And if his prediction was correct, then Heartache left for their sake.

“I don’t think he will if he finds out that his daughter is searching for him.” He uttered quietly.

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