Page 112 of A Baron of Bonds
He turned the key in the door and murmured, “For Felgren.”
The lock clicked and he pushed the door open, more darkness greeting us like a past we could never escape.
We stepped inside, and I lit the lantern without a word, my green wisps of power flying to the wick, illuminating the room in a dim glow.
Rev’s emotions were in complete turmoil, spilling from him endlessly in a cascade of anger, guilt, and betrayal.
“I never wanted to come back here,” he whispered, his eyes scanning every inch of the room he had trained in with Heimlen to become Baron of Felgren.
“I hate that you have to,” I replied, my heart only filled with wrath for the man who had sat at the desk in front of us.
I took the key and stepped around the desk, lowering to the floor and inserting it into the hidden lock below the worktable. It clicked loudly and I rose to push the table forward, opening the secret door to this room I had discovered seven years ago.
I stepped inside, my magic again leaving my fingers to light the fireplace. It took longer than I expected, but eventually lit, filling the room with a low light.
It reeked of mold and dust, but I ignored the smell and ignored the looming memory of the night I had discovered the truth of Heimlen’s manipulation. The walls were littered with portraits of barely clothed women, the canvases dark with a think layer of dust. I avoided the gaze of each of them, especially the one above the fireplace.
I moved quickly to the desk, snatching a journal off its surface. I remembered placing it there so long ago. I began sifting through the shelves of the bookcases, looking for any journals I had missed when I had originally ransacked this room for answers.
I knew Sylva, Heimlen’s lover and life source, had burned most of them, but I held hope that she’d missed some.
Somethinghere must allude to how he cured the Black Fever. I flipped open a journal and scanned the page. Seeing Heimlen’s long scrawl, I wanted nothing more than to slam it shut and burn it, as the others had burned in that very fireplace where Revich now stood.
I turned my attention to him as he studied the portrait of a young Sylva.
“There’s so much I should have questioned.”
“Rev,” I started, “we can take some of these and leave. We don’t have to search for the answers here. We can take them to our rooms and?—”
“No.” He turned to me, his irises black as night, continuing, “No part of him leaves this room. I won’t have him anywhere else in the Fortress.”
“Yes, sir,” I agreed.
A small smirk lit his mouth, and he came to the bookcase, reading their spines, thick with dust. Pulling a few, he headed back to the fire, sitting stiffly in one of the chairs. Dust puffed around him and he coughed into the stale air.
“Here, let me,” I said, murmuring, “Nitidus”and watching as the chair’s thick layer of grime disappeared immediately, the black fabric looking newly upholstered.
“Neat trick,” he chuckled, leaning back to its surface and opening the book in his lap.
We stayed like that for hours, neither of us finding anything useful, checking in with each other every so often.
I had to stop myself from being consumed by a journal full of Heimlen’s remarks on Revich’s first days in Felgren as he trained in the Baronship.
“The boy shows much promise. His spirit is light and humorous, and his power is harnessed in his full heart. Already he makes friends with the Overseer and some of the channelers. They will go through the conduit trials soon, and I will bring the next few, hopefully including the one who can help me fight the Blight.
He is learning to use his rhyzolm properly. It led him to several channelers back in his home, but he needs more practice, more focus to really hone in on the one we need.
He has sworn to me he will be able to do this. Alas, I feel I myself am softening toward him. He will one day make a great Baron if I can just mold him into the man I know he can become.”
I gulped at the lump forming in my throat, raw and painful. Furious, I wiped at the tears that fell onto the page, refusing to sniff at what ran from my nose and alert Rev that I was crying.
His head shot to me across the room and he rose from the tidy black chair. “What is it?”
Fuck, I’d forgotten about the bond for a moment—there was no hiding from him.
I wiped my sleeve under my nose and shut the journal. It had no use to us right then anyway. “It’s nothing.” I rose and added the journal to the pile of books I’d already skimmed through, adding, “He was just a bastard.”
Rev turned my chin to meet his gaze as a flicker of blue traversed its surface. He cupped my cheek, leaning down to my lips, placing a soft kiss before a simple whisper of, “I love you, Karus.”
