UNMARKED

29: History Revealed

Near death experiences could be very mentally taxing and after so many attempts on his life, she wondered how much more Rorrick's mental barriers could take. Did he fear an attack everywhere he was? Even in the comfort of his own chambers? She had heard that the Crown medics had prescribed him rest. He would physically recover fully, thanks to the protective spells laid by Conal and Caval. And thanks to her quick thinking.

But she didn't feel that what she had done had been enough. Had she not been so distracted by dancing with him, she could have been on higher alert, and more prepared to protect him from an attack. He thought that she was his savior, but she felt she was a hindrance. She had told as much to Alessa, who had brought word that Rory had asked about Blayre.

It had sent a pang through her chest - the knowledge that he wanted to see her. Blayre had longed to go to him from the moment she had returned to that shaken ballroom, but she had steeled herself against the emotion. And she would continue to do so. She couldn't face him yet, and risk that the wall she had constructed would come crumbling down.

Blayre rapped briskly on a door in the sorcerer's wing. "Come in." Called the baritone voice from within.

Caval was sitting in a comfortable looking armchair, eyes closed against the headaches that had been plaguing him since his recent head trauma. The curtains were drawn against the light from outside - not that there was much of it. Heavy raindrops pattered against the windowpanes. A servingman sat at a small table, doing what looked like bookkeeping.

Caval opened his eyes when she entered. She had expected suspicion, or reluctance - something as a result of the information she had pried from him a few days before. But they crinkled at the edges when he smiled warmly, white teeth flashing brilliantly against the dark tones of his skin.

Did she deserve warmth? Or was the warmth something Caval had feigned. Was he just a traitorous rebel, expert at putting on a believable ruse? Or did he have no recollection of the words he'd spoken.

Caval dismissed the servingman, then returned his gaze to Blayre. He motioned for her to sit in the chair across from his.

"How's your head?" Blayre asked.

"Better," Caval admitted. "The headaches aren't coming as often. Now more of just a dull ache. My eyes are still a bit sensitive to light, but the medic says I should be healed up quite soon. Moon and Sun, you don't know how glad I am to have someone finally break up the monotony. A person can only sit here in the dark for so long. And without reading books..." He rubbed at his temples. "Pier reads aloud to me, but it's not the same. And there are certain books that I won't allow him to see."

Blayre wondered how many of the books Pier didn't "see." Then again, the young sorcerer probably had complex magical charms disguising them from the average eye. She smirked, his charms wouldn't work on her magic resistant eyes. Perhaps she would have to search through his collection.

"What are you smiling about?" Caval asked, as the door clicked behind his servingman.

"Nothing," Blayre said, suddenly brought back to the present. She erased the smile from her face - too abruptly probably.

"What's wrong?" Caval asked instantly.

"Nothing," She said again, and then sighed. Denial was pointless. "Okay, not nothing. Caval, do you remember our conversation shortly after that mage-assassin got away?"

His clean shaven face took on a look of grimness. She could feel the slight pulse of magic as he sent out muffling spells. "Of course I remember." He said, sounding almost offended. "And I did not give that information lightly. But I thought it pertinent that you know. And I trust you as someone who will take that information and use it wisely."