Page 75 of Eluvonia
“Whenever you’re ready,” Declan says, his tone reassuring but businesslike. “Just start from the beginning.”
The Fae takes a deep breath and begins to recount the details, her voice steady as she describes what she saw. When she finishes, Declan’s brow furrows slightly, his fingers tapping lightly against his arm as he considers.
“Hm,” he mutters. “What did the male Fae look like?”
The Fae fidgets, her fingers curling into the fabric of her apron. “Uh, his clothes—he looked like he was from the stables, you know? Simple, worn.” She offers a small, hesitant smile.
I catch the flicker in her eyes and the way her gaze darts to the side. She’s holding back. Declan notices it too.
“And his face?” he presses. “Can you remember anything about him? Any distinguishing features?”
She hesitates, glancing away before speaking. “No, I didn’t get a good look at his face,” she says, her voice quieter.
Declan leans in a bit, his expression patient but sharp. “But you’re sure about the clothes?”
“Yes,” she nods quickly. “I remember the clothes. But…” She trails off, her eyes avoiding ours.
Declan waits, but the silence stretches. Finally, he pushes just a little harder. “Can you think of anything else? It’s important. If your statement is correct, two Fae are about to be executed.”
Her eyes widen at the mention of execution, and a bead of sweat forms on her forehead. She wipes it quickly with the back of her hand, her posture growing tense. “I—I didn’tget a good look at his face,” she repeats, almost too quickly. “Just… brown hair, I think.”
“Brown hair?” Declan repeats slowly, raising an eyebrow. “Are you sure that’s all?”
“I—I’m not sure,” she stammers, clearly flustered. “I didn’t get a good look.”
Declan doesn’t smile, but his eyes narrow slightly, like he’s sizing her up. “Okay, thank you for your time.”
The Fae nods quickly, almost too quickly, before scurrying back to her station, her movements jittery as she tries to regain her composure.
I watch her leave, then glance at Declan. “She’s lying.”
Declan’s gaze lingers on the spot where she disappeared, his lips tightening into a thin line. “No doubt about it,” he mutters, shifting his weight as he thinks. “But we need more. We need something tangible—something that proves her testimony is false. If we can show the documents are forged, maybe she’ll finally come clean.”
I cross my arms and lean back against the stone wall. “Where the hell are we going to get that?”
Declan snaps his fingers, his eyes lighting up with realization. “The documents your father showed us—they are copied from documents in your father’s study. Whoever forged them might have left something behind. Something we can use.”
A slow grin spreads across my face. “Now that’s a thought.”
Without waiting for further discussion, I turn on my heel. “Let’s go. We’ve got work to do.”
Chapter 31
KAIDA
Hours have slipped by in silence, the only sound in the room is the rustle of paper and the occasional mutter under our breath. The desk is cluttered with stacks of documents—some yellowed with age, others crisp and freshly written. My father’s study has always felt like a fortress of knowledge, walls lined with bookshelves, each one packed with endless rows of dusty tomes. But the books seem less inviting today, their secrets eluding us as we shuffle through endless reports, hoping for a breakthrough.
I sit at the desk, leaning my head on my arm, the weight of fatigue dragging my gaze lower and lower with each passing page. The paper feels cold against my fingertips as I flip through another pile, my eyes barely registering the words anymore.
Across from me, Declan sits cross-legged on the floor, a pile of papers beside him. He’s flipping through them at a pace that’s almost too fast—there’s urgency in his movements.His brow furrows slightly as he reads, his lips twitching every now and then as if he’s on the verge of saying something but holds it back.
After a few minutes of silence, Declan breaks it. “Hey, why didn’t your father do an investigation?” His voice is casual, but I can tell he’s genuinely curious. He sets aside the document in his hand and picks up another, squinting at the text.
I grunt in response, my attention still on the pile of documents in front of me. “Because Aeris is a Fae,” I reply simply, not bothering to lift my head.
Declan’s eyes flick up to me, his expression a mix of disbelief and confusion. “So, she doesn’t deserve a proper trial?”
I finally lift my head, giving him a sidelong glance. “Not in my father’s eyes,” I mutter. My fingers drum lightly on the desk, the sound a faint rhythm against the silence. “Especially with what’s happening right now in Eluvonia.”
