Page 34 of Fall of the Ember Throne (Crown and Crest 3)

“Headache again?” he asks.

“Sure.” I pull his journal toward me, reading his latest poem. They’re starting to grow on me, though he doesn’t write as much as he used to.

Pranmore snatches it from my hands and returns to his seat. “It’s not finished.”

“Where’s Bartholomew?” I ask, realizing he’s not here.

“He left a little while ago—said something about practicing his archery.” The elf gives me a knowing look. “He’s become a bit obsessed—likely because someone said Henrik will be impressed with his growing skill when he returns.”

“I’mimpressed with his growing skill. After seeing him with that ridiculous crossbow, I never thought he’d take to archery.”

“He’s rather skilled in horticulture as well. I made a tincture last week and needed icebane. He had some growing in the solarium in his estate.”

“Bartholomew grew it? Not his mother or a gardener?”

Pranmore shakes his head. “I met his mother. She said Bartholomew grows and tends everything else in the sunroom. If we get a chance to return to Dulane, there are some seeds I’d like to give him. I’ve collected them here and there—some are quite rare.”

“I’m sure he’ll be pleased you’re trusting him with something so precious.”

Pranmore knots the tie of his journal and then sets it aside. “So why are you here?”

“Am I not allowed to visit you?”

“Of course you are, but I thought you might have a purpose.”

“I just needed to breathe.” I glance at the closed door, realizing anyone could walk through it at any moment. Even my sanctuary is open to the general public.

Pranmore clasps his hands on the desk and studies me. “Feeling smothered?”

“You have no idea.”

“I suppose you’ll get used to it.”

I narrow my eyes at the elf. “I won’t have to. Lawrence said he’ll break the engagement as soon as Henrik returns. I just have to survive until he escapes Camellia.”

Pranmore looks down at his hands, avoiding eye contact. “Lawrence doesn’t have the look of a man who intends to end his engagement.”

“It’s a show,” I argue, “for the people’s sake.”

Sort of.

“Hepromisedme,” I add.

After a long, skeptical look, Pranmore brushes the subject aside and stands. “I want to show you something. Wait a moment.”

He disappears into his bedchamber. Just a minute later, he returns with a familiar wooden box.

I recoil as soon as I see it. “Why do you havethat?”

“Audra sent it to me.” He sets the box on the desk between us and then opens it, revealing a rose gold necklace. The pendant is etched with a phoenix surrounded by the High Vale knotted wreath, with a small diamond set in the center. “She asked me to study the magic further.”

It’s identical to the necklace Henrik’s sister wears, along with several dozen of Ferradelle’s High Vale noblewomen.

“Have you made any discoveries?”

“Possibly,” he says with a frown, prodding the chain with the tip of his finger. “I’ve tried to dissect the magic, and I’ve come to a strange conclusion.”

Wondering if I’m going to have to draw it out of him, I ask, “And that would be…”

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