Crescent (Old Version)

+ Part 58 +

I don't know how many restless hours I spent tossing in bed. 

I can't go to the library. I can't go to the library, I told myself over and over. There's too many guards, too many things to come tomorrow to risk it. But some part of me knew that the core of my angst wouldn't just relent.

I had to see him.

He sat, just as I knew he would, book in hand, chair perched to overlook the snowfall outside. Almost as if he'd knew I'd come, he glanced up when I entered the room. 

I didn't care that my breath was ragged or that my hair was probably sticking up at every angle or even that my clothes were nothing but a sheet against the cold. 

My fists at my side, and I watched him take me in and slowly stand. He started, "Brenna..."

"Have you been to the galas before?" My words shook. 

But, I still didn't care. 

Somehow, he knew. He knew me. He saw through my lies. The deceit. And after tonight, I was only just beginning to see him too.

He nodded, the dark bags beneath his own eyes the only indication that I wasn't the only one having trouble sleeping.

Had the nightmares plagued him too? 

"Two," he answered.

"Two hundred years?" I choked, but I knew better than to be surprised. He was likely much older than that. 

Gabriel set his book down on the table between us, eyes never leaving me. "Once as a boy, once as my father's steward. Yes."

I clenched and unclenched my fists a dozen times, contemplating whether I should say the words on the edge of my tongue.

You're just as much of a liar as I am. More even.

But, I couldn't. Not yet. Not yet. "Tell me. About them."

He took a cautious step toward me and I bristled. He halted. "They're long tedious things," he started, but he must've known that wasn't the kind of answer I needed right now. "They used to be celebrations. Long parties to celebrate harmony, tradition. To celebrate the gods and the extension of their power- through the high lords." He paused expectantly for me to speak. 

"And... and you-" Liar. I shook my finger at him only to close it in my fist again. The conclusion I'd been so blind to this entire time... "You're no envoy."

His voice was like a match striking, a flame starting in the dark. "No."

My voice quivered. "Who are you then?" I thought of the vault opening for him, for us. I thought of the books he'd taken from the case for me. My throat felt tight as the memories stared at me, point-blank.

A breath and then he answered: "You know, Brenna. I think you've known for a while now."

High Lord. I knew. He knew I knew. But, admitting it... 

I laughed harshly then, my throat burning. Mad. I was mad now. 

All these evenings in the library. All of the dancing around each other, the questions and the games. It had all been for what? For him to learn more about Ceth's court?

"Do you think he won't find out when everyone else arrives and Lord Brennen doesn't?" A million thoughts flooded me at once. 

Ceth would kill him. Ceth would kill him. And if he found out that I knew... I would be dead too. My family...

Gabriel stepped around the table toward me, now close enough to touch but being careful not to rush me, but I was too caught up in my thoughts to care. One of his fingers found my chin and he carefully tilted my head upwards forcing me to look at him. "I was counting on it."