Chapter Thirteen

E vienne knew she was flirting with Orion as she challenged him to sit with her in the very spot of their tryst the previous night, but if it was a means to talk more with him one-on-one…perhaps she could glean some valuable information. She told herself she was doing all of this just to make Orion trust her, open up to her. But a quieter voice in her mind whispered her true motivations; she couldn’t look too closely at them or she would find herself poised for heartbreak.

“What brings you to the library today, Professor?”

“Well, as you may have guessed, I do love books a great deal,” he answered, a dimple showing on his left cheek. Evienne cursed internally—she couldn’t get enough of his dimples.

She rolled her eyes at his sarcasm. “I meant, are you working on anything in particular? Any research questions to delve into while you’re here?”

“I was just reading a Beitaran folktale, actually. I heard the story told as a child, but I had never seen a written version. It was lovely,” he said. She could feel the tinge of sadness in his voice.

He continued, “What sorts of stories do they tell Ichornian children at bedtime?”

Evienne was surprised at his question; she had not thought of bedtime stories in a long, long time.

“They’re all sort of…” she thought back to the tales her quiet mother had told her, of noble Sangviere that vowed to use their magic for good, of brilliant inventors who made the world better with their creations, and happy farmers who made Ichorna’s golden fields flourish. Thinking of her mother still gave her a pang of sadness followed swiftly by the cool nothingness of indifference that she had fostered to protect herself all these years. Her father had been the one to send her away, yes, but her mother had not raised a hand to stop him.

“They’re all about how careful we have to be with our magic and how great Ichorna is, really.” Evienne said thoughtfully. “Beitar chooses to be more closed off from the world, but Ichorna was scorned for so long because of our magic that our monarchs—and by extension the people—will do just about anything to be accepted.”

“Believe me, Beitar’s isolation is not a popular choice with its people,” Orion said. Evienne nearly drew back in surprise at his admission. The only other Beitaran Evienne had ever met was bound into silence by the Beitaran king’s magic; she had never heard someone speak candidly about the situation there.

“Really?” She asked, hoping Orion would go on.

He sighed and said, “Yes—and my life could be forfeit for saying so. Our King is the only one of us to have kept his magic all these years. We don’t know why; some deeper connection with it in the royal line most likely. Everyone in Beitar lives in fear of him. His father before him was no better. We are kept close and kept silent, all living under his absolute rule.”

Evienne was shocked. She never would have guessed such a thing. Now she was even more curious about how Solon and Orion were here—not just for the benefit of Queen Aldith, but because she genuinely wanted to know their story.

She supposed now was as good a time as any to just ask. “How are you here, then?”

Orion stared at her for a long moment, as if he was trying to see straight into her soul. When he blinked, she felt it in slow motion—like that one second was going to shape the course of her life. His gaze reconnected with hers and he spoke. “Our king grows careless in his old age; he agreed to let us come for the frivolous reasons we put forward to him.”

He hadn’t really told her anything, but she could infer that the true reason for their journey, then, was not frivolous. She realized that he had decided to trust her, to some extent. Guilt ricocheted through her, and another thought quickly followed; she wanted to earn his trust, not for Aldith’s benefit, but for herself. She cared that Orion trusted her, and she wanted him to trust her too, even if he shouldn’t. Evienne didn’t want to hurt Orion.

She knew then that she didn’t actually want to know the real reason for his presence here. If she didn’t know, she couldn’t tell.

“Well I’m certainly glad for his odd lapse in strictness; it’s been a pleasure to get to know you. And I have to say, I’m grateful to hear a more personal account of life in Beitar. All we get here are the very brief official correspondences, and they’re nearly identical each year. I am very sorry for the plight of your people; the loss of magic is a tragedy on its own, but suffering under a tyrant’s indifference to the situation must be very hard,” Evienne said.

Orion nodded slightly before he spoke, more quietly now. “In truth, I am not sure how much longer our people can go on without their spirits breaking. Being disconnected from our animal souls so completely can cause some to waste away. There are physical consequences to being cut off from the magic of Domhan na Rùin, and I believe we are close to seeing the effects through sickness and, eventually, loss of Beitaran lives.”

Evienne felt unbearable tightness in her chest. It was wrong for so many people to be without something so integral—she knew it must feel akin to suffocating. Tears stung her eyes as she thought about it, and she looked into Orion’s face again. The same pain was mirrored on his features. She realized that Orion’s purpose here was likely linked to the mystery of their dwindling magic as Queen Aldith had suspected. How could seeking to help their people be the great evil Aldith was worried about? She would not hinder him in finding the answers he sought; in fact, she desperately wanted to help.

When she spoke, her voice was rough with the effort of holding back her tears. “Is there truly no way to discover what has happened? What caused this horrible loss?”

Orion averted his eyes and stared into the fire for a long moment. “Time will tell, I suppose.”

And with that, the spell of this quiet corner of the library lifted. A palace attendant entered the alcove holding a tray set with two delicate tea cups and a pot of floral tea. Evienne collected herself, adjusting her position on the sofa and blinking away the tears that had threatened to fall. The attendant set the tray on a small table and smiled briefly at Evienne before leaving again.

Orion took the pot of tea and poured each of them a cup. The dark, wet leaves gathered in the dainty silver strainers on the cup as he poured. The scent of jasmine calmed Evienne’s heart, and she smiled at Orion. She hoped her gratitude for his openness showed on her face as he looked back at her. His startling green eyes crinkled at the corners.

They were silent then, both turning their attention to their respective books. Evienne stared at the page, but her mind churned and she did not comprehend a single word she read.