Page 96 of Fate's Sweetest Curse
“I almost didn’t apply,” I admitted, “for fear it would draw unnecessary attention to myself. Risk being identified.”
“Understandable. But you deserve to chase your dream. I’m glad you took the risk.”
In spite of the tenuousness of Phina’s research, I had to agree. “Me, too.”
Noble pushed off the desk. “Tell me more.”
So, I did. While Noble made himself busy lighting candles and building a fire in the hearth, I told him about my professors, my studies, the interesting concepts I’d been learning. As I did, I felt my shouldersrelaxing, my nerves softening; it was like old times, when I used to ramble on and on about alchemy, with Noble listening contentedly.
But as I settled into the comforting topics, Noble’s movements remained reserved, stiff. He knew why I was here. Once the fire was crackling merrily, he hung a kettle on a hook over the flame for tea. Then he faced me again, a good five feet separating us.
I trailed off, trying to spot a sign of wretchedness and seeing none. His hair was rumpled from tossing and turning. His green eyes were soft and searching. His evasive smirk was gone; in its place was a tilted, apologetic frown.
A heavy silence spread between us.
When I spoke again, my tone was light. Ineededlightness if we were going to get through this conversation. “So, you’re cursed. Were youevergoing to tell me?”
He smiled sadly at my misplaced sass. “Oath.”
I nodded, accepting that his deception hadn’t been willful. But the fact that his Oath limited his ability to speak of his condition implied… “Your curse is a part of your former knighthood?”
He couldn’t answer, of course, but when a tense crease bracketed his mouth, I knew I’d guessed right.
“Is it a Fenriran Order?” Itmust’vebeen. “Fates, that means that the Lord of Fenrir…” I wiped a hand over my face, shook my head, not believing my own line of thinking but also seeing no other explanation. “The Lord of Fenrircreatedthe curse.” Or, rather, one of his ledgermasters had.
The crease beside Noble’s mouth deepened.
“Butwhy?”
“Power.”
Out of all the Seven Territories of the Kingdom of Marona, Fenrir had always been the most disgruntled and resistant to unity.A weapon of war, Viren had guessed—and she’d been right. “He wants to createa weapon,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “To—what—oppose the king?”
Noble didn’t answer.
“Fuck.” I began to pace the rug in front of the hearth, feeling sick with dread.
If the Lord of Fenrir’s adepts created the curse—only to find that they were unable to control the monsters—that meant they must’ve also created the Order of the Valiant to clean up the mess. No wonder there were assassins lurking around the Collegium, suspicion rising. If other territories confirmed that Lord Haron was responsible for monsters…a conflict would be inevitable.
I couldn’t imagine what sort of magic had been used on the knights of Noble’s former Order, but it must’ve been dark and twisted. All at once, I was absolutelycertainthat this wasn’t just about Gildium in the blood. There had to be more to his affliction.
I halted and faced Noble again. “How long did you serve your Order?”
“Seven years.”
I stifled a gasp. “Did you know what you were getting into?”
“No.”
I rested a palm over my heart, as if to contain the thunderous pounding in my chest.
Noble took a step toward me—just one. “Hattie…” he began, and the shame in his tone—I wouldn’t allow it.
“No apologizing.”
“A thousand apologies still wouldn’t make right the ways I’ve deceived you,” Noble said. “You should be angry with me. Or fearful. Probably both.”
“The primary thing I’m feeling toward you right now is concern.”
