Page 45 of Fate's Sweetest Curse
Hattie, a moment?”
Seated at a study table in the library alcove, I looked up from the messy spread of notebooks, diagrams, and dense tomes before me, to find Phina standing in the doorway. Though I had been brought on to work with Hylder, much of my time at the Ocs had been spent doing grunt work: cleaning, garden chores, tedious data compilation, and mind-numbing annotation. I scribbled an observation into the summary of research I had been tasked to compile, then set down my quill.
“Of course,” I replied.
Phina took the empty chair to my right. “How’s cataloguing?”
I let out a long sigh. “Tedious, but interesting.”
Phina chuckled. “Welcome to the world of research.”
“I’m loving every moment.”
It was the truth.
The past month had been a blur of apothecary classes, tension headaches, and so much reading that my eyes felt constantly like they were filled with sand. Though Sani’s warning about conspiracies and murders was concerning, getting to see Phina and her advanced apprentices’ notes up close—to compile, organize, and search for patterns—was a privilege. Even when I returned to my dorm late at night and collapsed onto my tiny bed, there was pride and joy in my exhaustion.
Of all the Seven Territories of the Kingdom of Marona, Fenrir was renowned for magic. All territories had knights and adepts—some Orders, like the Mighty and the Arcane, spanned all borders, while others were specific to their territory—but as the birthplace of Oaths, Fenrir had become the kingdom’s authority onlearnedmagic. Folks came from all over the continent to study here. I thought about the magnitude of the Collegium’s reputation every time I entered the Ocs, donned my blindfold, and found myself in Phina’s lab.
“And your Hylder practice?” Phina asked.
I winced. “Inconclusive.”
In addition to the grunt work, Phina had tasked me with making basic Hylder tinctures—though none I concocted in the lab had yet to compare to the potency of the one I’d brought from home, and we couldn’t determine why. She’d had me switch to practicing adding different alchemical knots to the basic tincture, but the experimentation hadn’t resulted in much beyond making me feel cross-eyed.
Hylder. Gildium. Phina might not have been willing—or able—to elucidate the full purpose of the study, but the implication wasn’t lost on me. The figure in the alleyhadto have been suffering from a monster bite. My tincture was medicinal, but even I knew it couldn’t cure evil on its own. It was logical to assume the program’s purpose was a true cure—but that meant monsters weren’t simplycreatureswith innate wickedness; it meant they wereafflictedin some way.Cursed.
Mariana’s recurring presence had to be another clue. I didn’t know her Order, but I knew she dealt with abominable things. Monsters becoming a threat to Fenrir would explain Lord Haron’s stake in the study, too, though why he wanted to keep the problem a secret from the public was puzzling. Even Anya and Idris had told me not to speak of what I’d seen. So, was Sani onto something when she suggested there was a political component to this as well?
And where did Noble fit in?We’d been following our rules, but that meant I had no concept of the true nature of his involvement.
I was in over my head. Iknewit was dangerous—for numerous reasons—but my curiosity paired with my reverent excitement at being hereat allkept me engaged.
“No matter,” Phina said with a smile. “Mostof our research here is about ruling things out. Inconclusive is still…conclusive, as it were.” Phina laced her tattooed fingers together and set them on the table. “That said, I’m hoping that you’re about to enjoy your time here even more, as I’ve come with a new request.”
I straightened in my seat. “What is it?”
“Noble has been working through the various alchemical knots, same as you, just with Gildium. I need you to organize his notes and cross-reference his findings with your own.”
I sagged.So much for our rules.
Though we’d managed to avoid interaction, I stillsawNoble almost daily. I was powerless to the draw of his presence; every time I passed the archway of his workshop, I couldn’t help but gawk. His shirts were always filthy, sweat-soaked, clinging to the masculine ridges of his shoulders, biceps, and abs. Rolled-up sleeves showed off ropy forearms that glistened in the firelight of the forge.
These passing glances created a collage of his days in my mind, details forming into a clearer picture of the man he had become: highly skilled and focused, but also permanently tense. When we were kids, he’d possessed a similar tension, but it’d been tempered by an almost rakish playfulness. Funny, inquisitive, unruly. It seemed that at some point over the past ten years, Noble had lost that counterbalance.
Whatever fond memory you still have of me, he’d said in Waldron,that boy is gone.
Most days, I did not allow myself to stop as I walked past the forge. But occasionally, I couldn’t help but give into the urge, pausing brieflyto watch the way his hands worked. When I did, I could almost feel them on my waist again, the back of my head; I could almost feel the strength of his embrace.
Fates, that first night in the lab had been a mere moment of weakness, but after nine years of trying to be strong, that weakness had been a relief. How was I supposed to forget him holding me like that? Even after a month of tense avoidance, the feeling hadn’t faded. My heart was a wound, cauterized by his gruffness—only to be reopened by the remembrance of his kindness.
“I know it’s more organizing.” Phina must’ve misread my disappointment toward having to interact with Noble for the tedious work itself. “But as we blend herbology and metal alchemy, cataloguing the parallels in the research will prove essential.”
I forced a smile. “Yes. Of course. You’re right.”
Phina patted my shoulder and stood. “I understand he was stingy when he visited your establishment in Waldron,” she whispered, “but he’s really not so bad.”
I know, I thought as she walked away.That’s the problem.
