Page 91 of A Vow of Shadow and Blood
Since when do you follow rules?
Since my last plan failed to get me out of here. I’m playing the long game, Athriel.
Ah, just like I advised when we first arrived here.Sarcasm drips from his tone.
You just love to gloat, don’t you?
When the moment calls for it.
I push gently against the door, and a cool sensation creeps up my spine at the sound of it creaking. I look back, wondering if I should just forget this entire plan, but I’m tired and hungry and just want to find a way to get back to my room.
“Hello,” I call out into the room, but only the light whistle of wind answers, telling me that there must be a window somewhere inside. As the door fully opens, I notice that the floating starlight orbs in here are far dimmer than around the rest of the castle, and the room is covered in shadows that make it harder to see. I notice white sheets thrown over furniture as though the room is no longer in use. I brush my finger against an empty shelf, and the tip ends up coated in a thick layer of dust. This place seems abandoned, unlike the rest of the palace, which always seems to be thriving with either guards or servants.
Despite myself and the nagging in my stomach that tells me I should turn around, I walk inside, my eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. In the middle of the room, a cloth covers what looks to be a large bed. I peel back the corner and find the sheets rumpled and unmade, as though someone had just jumped out of it in a hurry. The room is far bigger than the one I occupy. The wood beneath my feet creaks, and I pause for a moment, frightened that somebody is going to come and catch me in the act, though I’m not even sure if what I’m doing is wrong.
I move toward another covered piece of furniture, and curiosity gets the better of me. I lift it up and find myself sucked into a coughing fit as the dust floats around the room.
“Damn it.”
When I finally stop spluttering, I turn back and find a messy desk filled with old, stained parchment, jars of ink, and dried quills. I pick up a ripped piece of paper and discover part of a letter scribbled onto it. My eyes strain to make out the scratchy script.
Dear brother,
If you are reading this letter, then I have had to leave. I know you disagree with the choices I have made, but all that I do is to protect you, Father, and the court. I know you will be angry that I did not inform you of my departure in person, but you would have only followed, and that would have put everyone we love in danger.
War is coming, Brother, and this may be our last chance to stop it. The imp—
The page ends there, and I can’t help but wonder what else he said and who ripped it. Perhaps the prince himself. I find myself drawn to the desk, my hand flitting through the scattered mess in hopes of finding more pieces of the puzzle. This must be Karius’s brother’s room. The brother who died just before the war began. There were already rumors that his death somehow sparked the war, and that letter confirms it. The question is, where was he goin—
“You should not be in here.”
The voice startles me, making me turn so quickly that I drop and smash a jar of ink on the floor. A boy stands still in the shadows. Damn. He’s probably one of the servants, and if he tells the prince that I was snooping, then I could end up right back in the dungeon.
“Sorry, I got lost.”
He steps forward, and instinctively, I find myself moving back until the press of the desk bites into my back, giving me nowhere to go.
“You are not lost. You are exactly where you’re supposed to be.”
His voice is a hushed whisper that sends a cold chill up my spine. He speaks in a voice that sounds unnatural, as though it should belong to someone far older.
You need to get out of here,Athriel says.Something is wrong with the boy.
He’s blocking the door.
Then move him.
Despite Athriel’s words, I stand still, my body failing to follow the command. The boy sniffs the air.
“Your fear is palpable, so rich I can almost taste it.” My heart thunders in my chest at his words. “My essence calls to you. Come closer.”
I try to back up, but the stupid table stops me. My hand fumbles behind me, scrambling over the desk’s surface for anything I can use as a weapon. My fingers catch the edge of something sharp. I clutch it tight before quickly holding it out in front of me.A letter opener.It will have to do.
“Don’t come any closer,” I warn.
He tilts his head slowly, watching me through the darkness, and I can feel his gaze burning into me like a live flame.
“If I cut you, would I taste the essence of home?”
