Of Whispers and Daggers ✓ [TLRQ #2]

Chapter 13 - Idyne

In the darkness of the bedroom, I stare up at where the ceiling should be. My stomach growls, but under the memory of sleepless nights where it gnawed on its own flesh, I almost don't notice it. I'll eat when I find a group of Ladies drinking tea. Morineause women seem to eat all the time: pastries, biscuits, little flaky delicacies that fall apart in my hands. No, I won't go hungry here.

Jacin, though—I roll over. I'm tired of getting maids to bring Jacin his meals. Not because it's hard to do. There's a little thrill at ordering these girls around, my words turning into action. I feel like a warlord over a house, servants running to do my bidding. It's a delight to order them for my own case, but there's something different about keeping track of this freeloader. I shouldn't have brought him along. He's nothing but a waste of effort; he's not even my ward.

For the past two days, I've cast every morning to remake my dress into a new outfit, found Ladies to socialize with, and then wandered the castle as if I have somewhere I'm going. The routine is easy, but despite my effort to familiarize myself with this place, the voices whisper that I'll never really learn my way around. I don't know these people or their customs, no matter how much the shamans tried to teach me. The twists and turns of the corridors are ridiculous, as if some queen along the way decided that the castle just needed more hallways. After a few more days of wandering, maybe the halls won't seem like such a maze, but I'll still feel lost. I swear I've gone in circles more than once, and I itch to know how many little things I've done to tip off the Ladies that I'm not a native. Not native to this city, not native to this country, and not native to this lifestyle.

And all of this social guesswork and wandering was interrupted with suddenly remembering that Jacin needed food too. He eats out of my hand like a stray dog I don't want following me. By every right, I should just step back and let the odd-jobs boy fend for himself. He chose to come here. Let him keep himself alive. Let him keep himself out of the dungeon. Let him—

But if Leavi found out, she would do something to stop it. Help him. Just like my little sister always was, Leavi is nicer than me.

I push out of bed, solution apparent. Leavi will take him.

I prepare for the day and head for the infirmary instead of the drawing rooms I have been attending. The door is open, and I step inside. A door at the back is also ajar, and sounds of someone shuffling come through it.

"Hello?" I say, wandering a couple paces in. My eyes roam the crowded cabinets, some with locks, some not. What a wonderful, accidental collection of spell materials.

"Just a moment." The voice is old but strong. I wonder if my new role will fool him too.

I wait, glancing through the glass of one of the unlocked cabinets. Bottles of dried herbs line the shelves—thyme, sage, fennel, even some I don't recognize. Yes, this will be a lovely place to obtain materials when it's time.