Page 42 of The Curse of Golden Blood
She crossed her arms, staring pointedly out of the window. "If you're trying to make me feel better, you're doing a terrible job."
"I'm not. There are no promises here, Vessel. Anything could happen."
She huffed, turning away from me. "Thanks for the reminder."
I sat down on the edge of the bed, watching her. She stood there for several moments, her back to me. Slowly, she walkedto the windows. She leaned against the wall, staring outside. I wondered what she was thinking about.
After a moment, she spoke, her voice barely audible. "When will they start studying me?"
The question took me by surprise. I didn't expect her to bring it up so soon. "Tomorrow. And none of it will be as bad as you imagine."
"What do I have to do?"
"Nothing. Just stay in that room while the healers run their tests."
I watched as her shoulders stiffened. A muscle in her jaw clenched, her mouth flattening into a hard line. I couldn't help but notice how the candlelight made her skin look so soft, almost golden. "Where will you be?" she asked, her tone suddenly sharp.
I raised an eyebrow. "In the same room."
She huffed, arms crossed over her chest. "I thought you said you had a lot of precious duties to attend to."
I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the prickle of stubble at the back of my neck. "They will need my help."
She pressed her lips together in a thin line, an expression I knew well enough. It was the look she gave when she didn't trust me, when she was measuring every word I spoke, weighing them for their truth. "I’d also like to visit the sick everyday, while I'm here. I want to check on them."
"Why?"
"Because… I made a promise."
"To whom?"
"Myself."
She didn't elaborate, and I didn't bother to press the issue. For now.
Her gaze finally snagged on the shelves. They spanned the entire wall, heavy with tomes bound in leather, wood, andcloth. Some were so old their spines had no titles, only strange sigils burned into the material. Others had pages fraying like ancient leaves.
“Do you read all these?” she asked, one brow lifting.
“Most.” I didn’t bother looking up from unbuckling my bracers. “The rest aren’t worth the time.”
She wandered closer, trailing her fingers along the edge of a shelf. “Figures. Thunder Court’s terrifying warlord has a secret library. Tell me, which are your favorites? ‘How to Glare Menacingly’? Or maybe ‘Fifty Ways to Threaten a Mortal’?”
I glanced over my shoulder, grinning. “Careful, little dove. Mock me again and I’ll have you shelving them by weight class."
Her eyes glittered. “Wouldn’t want to bruise your precious tomes, would I?”
She pulled a particularly ancient volume from the shelf, its leather binding cracked with age. The title was written in flowing script across the cover. Her brow furrowed as she studied it.
"Vaelith mor'thannis arun," she read slowly, her pronunciation surprisingly accurate. "The... something of ancient magics?"
I went completely still, my hands freezing on the leather straps. "What did you just say?"
"I said—" She looked up, noting my expression. "Did I pronounce it wrong?"
"How do you know the old tongue?"
She shrugged, but I caught the way her grip tightened on the book. "I don't. Not really. I just... recognize some words."
