Page 20 of Fate's Sweetest Curse
He tossed back the rest of his brandy and set the empty cup on a side table. “Ask Mariana. The leakage of her Order’s secrets isherproblem, not mine.”
“I’m afraid you are mistaken.” Phina uncrossed her legs and rested her forearms on her knees. “Whether you like it or not, you’rein this. From the moment you agreed to partake in my research—”
“Your research is the only thing keeping me—”
“—you gave up your right to decide what is and is not your problem. At least when it comes to my work.”
Talk of her research had his mind pivoting to the particulars. He’d been in Waldron for a year, and due to the clandestine nature of Phina’s work, her letters to him had been few—and vague. “Have you learned anything new?” he asked. “Any luck?”
“A good alchemist does not rely on luck,” Phina replied tartly. “But no. No answers yet.”
He would’ve been devastated if he hadn’t expected that response. “New insights, then?”
“Depends onyourresearch.” She took a quick sip of her brandy. “What have you learned in Waldron?”
“Not enough,” Noble grumbled. “The resources there are…lacking.”
“Perhaps it’s time to apply your newfound knowledge here, in my lab, with my resources.”
“I’d rather not stay, Phina.”
“You might not have a choice, Noble.” She sat back, tattooed fingers laced around her cup. “But don’t think I didn’t notice the way you evaded my question. Do you think it’s possible Hattie knows why the Order of the Valiant exists?”
Noble balled his fists, suddenly furious that Hattie had been dragged into the fucked-up machinations currently transpiring between the knights and adepts of Fenrir.
He resumed pacing. “I don’t know, Phina,” he said, annoyance in his tone. “As far as I’m concerned, Hattie is just an innocent barkeep from an inconsequential small town on the Wend.”
“Waldron,” Phina said, setting her drink aside. “The same small town where you’ve resided for the past year. The same small town where one of the last true Gildium artisans retired. The same small town where Idris Tog—”
“I get it,” Noble interrupted.
“Do you?” Phina asked, gripping the upholstered arms of her chair. “Because I don’t.”
He shrugged. “What do you want me to say? That I recognized Hattie? Sure. I’ve seen her around plenty. But as for what she knows and does not know, I am in the dark as much as you are.”
“She knows nothing of your intentions?”
“Nothing.” Of that, he was certain. He’d made sure of it.
Phina nodded, accepting his words. “Well. She is, unfortunately, more aware of the secrets that the Valiant protect than she ought to be, which puts her in danger.”
Noble ran a palm over his jaw and glanced away, trying to get ahold of the emotions on his face before—
“You care for her.” It was not a question.
When he faced Phina again, he made sure to make his expression hard. He was well practiced at concealing his fondness for Hattie. “I care for any innocent who is unnecessarily swept up in Lord Haron’s dealings.”
“Nice to know you care about me, then, too,” Phina quipped.
Did she truly see herself that way? Caught in the Lord’s scheming because of her expertise? To anyone outside the situation, Phina seemed fortunate to have been chosen for patronage by the Lord—but maybe Phina didn’t have as much autonomy as she let on.
“What do you plan to do about her?” Noble asked.
“The only thing Icando, without raising suspicion,” Phina said. “I have to bring her into the fold.”
A Letter
Posted from: Hattie Mund, Collegium, Fenrir City, Fenrir T.
