Page 29 of Ocean of Ink
Castien sighed. “I am puzzling out what she’s doing here and what she might know. She looked directly at me more than once. That is not without meaning.”
Castien did not tell him of the smile. If Finn didn’t see it, then that was likely for the best. He would be relentless.
“Perhaps she thinks you're pretty,” Finn teased, then shrugged. “Maybe her brother warned her of you. Or your reputation preceded you. The Prince of the Lucent Enclave, a Gifted strategist set to take his father’s place as emperor. It would draw the eye of any noblewoman with knowledge of society.”
“You might be right. It could be strictly political.”
Castien didn’t fully believe that, though. There was something about the way she looked at him that felt charged. He needed to know what she knew.
“She must have heard we were talking about her.” Finn gestured ahead.
Castien turned and caught his meaning. Wren Kalyxi walked across the training grounds in another shimmering yellow gown. Her maid–also in yellow–held a white parasol over her mistress’s head and carried a blanket in her other arm. Castien wondered how long she would wear yellow. Once classes began, all of the female students wore the same simple black dress with a silver academy insignia embroidered on one of the puffed sleeves, but they were allowed to accessorize with sashes and hairpieces. He could easily imagine Wren tying a yellow ribbon around her waist in order to honor her brother.
“Would you like me to introduce myself while you are in earshot?” Finn asked in a low voice. Castien nodded his consent.
Finn poked his fingers in the small rip that Castien had made and tore the fabric to make it worse.
“What are you doing?”
Finn grinned, putting his dimples on full display.
“All ladies love a story of heroism. I will tell her how I bested you, and in turn, she will divulge all of her secrets.”
“I do not think that is how your conversation will go,” Castien said dryly.
“We shall see.” Finn winked before sauntering off in Lady Kalyxi’s direction.
The future duchess had just gracefully lowered herself onto a pink quilt when Finn approached. Her lady’s maid propped up her parasol in the grass before leaving the two alone. Castien watched from beside Heathford. He was far enough away not to be asked why he hadn’t come to introduce himself, butclose enough that he should be able to make out most of their exchange.
“Lady Kalyxi, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Finn said with a deep bow. “I am Lord Finnick Valengard, but I beg of you, call me Finn. I despise my formal name and title.”
“Very well, then you must call me Wren, for I detest titles as well.” Her voice was much sweeter today than when she spoke to Callalily. It retained a lilting quality that seemed to float on the breeze.
“Would you like some company? I am worn out from battle and in need of refreshment in the form of a beautiful smile.” As if on cue, Wren smiled at Finn’s silly flirtation. “Ah!” he exclaimed, a hand over his chest. “I am much improved already. You must allow me to sit with you. Perhaps the strength of your presence will mend the shirt my cousin has ruined.”
Wren’s gaze pierced Castien. She did not have to search for him, so she must have noted where he stood before she sat down.
“Do sit, and tell me of this magnanimous battle. Is it a tale of defeat?”
Finn lowered himself onto her blanket and propped himself up on his palms.
“How do you doubt me so? Though I am wounded, I did get the upper hand.”
Her responding smile was light and pleasant. Castien compared it to the one in his memory of last night. He determined a difference between the two, but he could not place what it was.
“Your cousin does not seem to be injured as you are. How can I trust your words?” she teased. Castien smirked.
“I shall have him come over and tell of how I trounced him.”
Castien’s smirk fell. This was not a part of the plan. Finn put people at ease; Castien often did the opposite. Finn turned andwaved him over. Wren did not appear to be nervous, but she proved herself unpredictable yesterday, so Castien could not be sure.
He approached the party and bowed. Because of his rank, he did not need to bow, but he wanted to appear conciliatory.
“Cousin, we have dispensed with our titles. You must call her Wren, and Wren, you must call him Castien. If you refer to him as the prince of anything, I am liable to gag.”
A soft laugh escaped Wren. “Are you amenable to such terms, Your Highness?” she asked in her melodic voice.
Finn made a show of clutching his stomach. Castien gave him an unamused look.
