DARKHAVEN | "Three Sisters" Book One

Chapter Forty-Six

Gia

The castle was eerily quiet. 

Too quiet.

Aleksander had declared there'd be no training today—at least, not for Gia—which came as an unexpected surprise that left the oldest sister feeling both relieved and unsettled.

Yesterday's lesson had been unusually calm. Aleksander had guided her through elemental summonings outdoors, and they'd...they'd actually worked well together.

At least, they'd worked well together between her sullen stares and pointed glares.

She'd managed a two-minute downpour—no small feat, and, if nothing else, a gift to the many plants that called the castle gardens home. Standing there, together, in the rain, laughing up at the sky, whatever it was that existed in that unbreakable bond between she and the Lord had felt almost normal.

He'd congratulated her on the accomplishment, though it did not go unnoticed that he called it a 'trick.'

Gia's mood had soured again. She'd made an effort not to show it, at least, and left the training once dismissed with a clipped nod and forced, red-lipped smile.

Today, with no training inside and rain falling outside (though not of Gia's making, this time), she was free to resume her usual pastime of wandering the castle halls, sinking into her own mind and stewing in her thoughts. It was likely that Roslin and Blodwyn would still have several hours of training, so she could do as she pleased until they returned to her side.

She climbed staircases, snuck through the secret passages reserved for use by retainers only, and drifted through the corridors until she found herself in the guest wing. 

Something there gave her pause. Gia couldn't put her finger on what it was; the guest corridors were mostly quiet this time of day, as most guests had better things to do than loiter about their small, shared rooms. A chill, unnatural even for an end-of-summer rainy day, passed over her.

"Hello?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder. Despite the Lords' assurances, the castle had proven itself far from secure. Whoever had lowered the wards on the night of the ball remained a mystery, walking among them, hiding in plain sight.

As she exhaled, bidding her tension to ease, a voice startled her.

"Hello, Gia—I mean, Lady Amethyst." Leopold materialised from a hiding spot within an alcove no more than a few paces ahead. 

Her stomach dropped. He'd deteriorated considerably since last she'd seen him: his black hair hung in a dull, tangled mass, and a thin sheen of sweat clung to his naturally tanned skin. There were puffy circles of black and purple beneath his eyes, and his patchy beard had grown long and scraggly. 

"Leopold...What are you doing here? Why were you just...?" She gestured vaguely at the alcove.

"My room is here. Just a few doors down. What are you doing here?" He stumbled closer, forcing Gia to step back. A pungent scent of sweat and spice wafted from him, mixed with something sour and faintly rotten.

The same smell the henchmen of the First had about them. 

The realisation came to her so quickly that it surely showed on her face. She forced herself to look disinterested if not a little disgusted. Reassessing him, she calmed herself with the comfort that Leopold was, fortunately and unfortunately, too incompetent to have a place among the ranks of the First.

"I was heading off to find Roslin," Gia replied, her voice steady as she took another cautious step back. "She's likely training with Lord Heartwood." Leopold's eyes lingered on her, and she could feel something lurking behind his stare. She stepped around him with a simple wish of, "I bid you a good day."