Page 70 of Ocean of Ink
She immediately got back into position. Every critique given was applied.
“Well done,” he commended. “Your stance is much improved. You are dismissed.”
A surprised smile bloomed across Wren’s face.
“Thank you, Professor.”
Wren dipped into a curtsy, then rushed toward the weapons rack. Other students remained even after dismissal to spar or get further instruction, but Wren decided to end on a high note.A fighter, she mused as she picked up her school bag. Perhaps there was some plausibility to the thought after all.
When she went to put her bag on her shoulder, Wren noticed the flap was open. She was certain she had closed it before leaving her room. Worried that something was stolen yet again, she opened the bag wide and began searching through it.
Wren flipped past familiar books and journals. It was all there–her fingertips brushed against an unfamiliar piece of parchment. Her heart stuttered at the sight of Castien’s red seal. He’d snuck a letter in her bag during class. She stifled a smile and lifted her gaze to search for him.
Wren found Castien sparring with Finn in the middle of the training grounds. His expression was grim, his body exuding lethal grace as he and Finn danced. Castien’s gaze landed on her. She felt his stare burn through her, but he didn’t acknowledge her in any other way. Confusion and excitement battled for purchase within Wren.
What sort of game was he playing now?
Year 822, Week 36, Delta
Dearest Wren,
With each letter, you stoke the flames of my curiosity all the more. I agree with your definition of secrets, and must confess that your assessment of me carrying many is correct.
I’m not sure the weight of them is heavy after bearing them for so long. I don’t know if I have gotten stronger or become numb. A riddle for another day, I suppose.
My mother has a garden full of flowers back home. There’s a path lined with peonies that you would love. I’m partial to yellow roses.
How is your essay about me coming along? Is it difficult to contain my magnificence in words? Perhaps you could include a painting. I’m happy to sit for one at your convenience.
Ever your pompous prince,
Castien
Ps. I’m sure you have noticed the nature of this letter’s delivery is different from our usual manner. It seems our peershave taken notice of our exchange. Let’s endeavor to escape their awareness from now on.
Year 822, Week 36, Delta
My pompous prince,
It concerns me that instead of trying to prove me wrong about the title I bestowed upon you, you’ve decided to live up to it instead. Beyond your entertainment, I see no value in this ridiculous vanity.
The essay is coming along just fine, though writing has become more difficult after dueling class. Will I always be this sore after training? If so, I might have to give up my mission of becoming the best student in our year.
Your mother’s garden sounds lovely. The gardens on my estate back home have an entire section dedicated to peonies. I used to sit on a bench and write for hours in the midst of the blooms. It saddens me that they don’t grow here on the Whispering Isle.
If you cannot tell, I am attempting to veer away from our previous somber discussions. However, I wanted to offer, if you ever begin to feel the burden of your secrets, you can share them here.
In confidence,
Wren
Year 822, Week 36, Cordelia
My dearest Wren,
You’re mistaken in thinking that I need more reason than entertainment to proudly wear my title. The knowledge of your contempt spurs me forward like a cup of everleaf tea in the morning.
As for your sore muscles, I’m afraid you will be plagued with those for some time. I rather hope you won’t forfeit the class though, as I’d enjoy the opportunity to spar with you.
