Chapter Four

“ E vienne,” the woman glared down at her from a substantial height.

“Dominique.” Evienne felt the muscles of her shoulders tense and her breathing shallow immediately. She had no idea how she had ever felt anything but the physical need to run away in this woman’s presence.She was beautiful, but only in the way that a poisonous flower was beautiful.

“You really should watch where you are walking. It’s so unbecoming for someone of your rank to be so careless; what would Her Majesty think if she saw you bumbling around like this? What if I had been one of the visiting nobles that will be swarming this place in a few days?”

Evienne’s lips tightened into a thin line. In these moments, she could never think of what to say to put Dominique in her place; it was always hours later that the right retort would come to her. Thoughts of this encounter would plague her for days to come, if the past was any example.

“Just like you, not to have anything to say for yourself,” Dominique laughed derisively. “It’s really so sad, Vivi . You had so much potential. If you hadn’t left when you did, I certainly would have soon enough—it’s hard to watch you flounder,” Dominique spoke lightly, casually, despite her hateful words.Evienne couldn’t help the frown that curled her lips at her old nickname. She had always hated being called that.

This interaction seemed to be the sum of their relationship now. Evienne knew that it had been abuse, she had gotten out, had risen above, had become more herself than she had been ever before; but it still stopped her in her tracks every time Dominique stood before her.

“Excuse me,” Evienne said with more confidence than she felt as she stepped around Dominique to continue on her way. She didn’t want to dignify Dominique’s words with a real response.

She caught Dominique’s searing blue gaze for a split second as she brushed past, and it was filled with loathing and resentment. Dominique had always thought she knew what was best for Evienne. It was only when Evienne realized what was happening and started to reclaim herself that Dominique’s love for Evienne had soured.

Evienne felt air pulling into her lungs, focused on evening out her breaths. Every second that passed, every step that took her away from Dominique, had her feeling more settled in herself.

It was three years ago now that Evienne had woken up one day realizing that she had made herself so small in Dominique’s presence, there was almost nothing left that was really her . That devastating revelation had been promptly followed by their separation.For better or worse, Evienne hadn’t waited around for more of her soul to wither.

Evienne fought against the tightness in her throat as she walked. She was embarrassed that Dominique still had this effect on her. She had learned not to accept this sort of treatment from anyone, but her spirit still shrank away from this woman as if she were a branding iron poised to further mar her sense of self.

Evienne supposed their coupling always had a sinister thread running through it, now that she was able to look back on it. Time was clarity’s greatest ally.

Dominique’s earliest moments of control had been less nefarious—posed as preferences, suggestions. She had punished Evienne with subtle signals of displeasure when she stepped out of line. Time had shown Dominique’s true colors, but by then Evienne was so focused on meeting her expectations to keep her heart safe that she didn’t realize what was really happening. When she did notice it, it had been like waking up from a nightmare—sudden and disorienting.

The halls of the palace were bustling with people this morning. Everyone was preparing for the celebration. Evienne tried her best to avoid making eye contact with anyone; she wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone but Cecelia. She was trying desperately to cling to the person she was outside of that relationship, the person she had hammered and forged herself into these last three years.

Breathing in, locking down that version of herself that always surged to the front of her mind when Dominique was around, she focused on the scent of cloves on the air and the sharp clicking of her boots on the marble floor as she moved through the winding passages.

She was Evienne Elodie D’Auclaire, High Sangviere to the Court of Ichorna, and she would not allow anyone to make her feel small ever again.

These were the words she said over and over to herself when she felt her spirit wavering. Evienne knew who she was, who she wanted to be; but understanding who she had been helped her to be kind to herself in these fraught moments.

She pulled herself together as she wound her way through the dusty labyrinth that housed Ichorna’s rarest tomes. Cecelia was the head librarian in Ichorna—all of the province’s librarians reported to her in one way or another—so her study was here in the main library.

The study was warm and welcoming, just like Cecelia. A large, honey-colored sofa took up one side of the room while a massive oak desk dominated the other. Shelves of books were built into the walls, and light filtered in through the circular stained glass window across from the door. Its panes of yellow, orange, and red made the space feel like a flickering fire.

Cecelia herself sat curled with a book on the massive couch, her dark brown hair falling in a smooth curtain over the armrest. She looked up as Evienne entered, smiling as she laid eyes on her friend. Cecelia had the best smile, open and generous and always reaching her eyes.

“I’m so glad we could squeeze in one more cozy breakfast before the celebration,” Cecelia said as she righted herself on the couch and slipped a bookmark into the crease between the pages. She gestured to the tray on the low table in front of the couch as Evienne took her seat.Evienne decided then that she wouldn’t even mention her encounter with Dominique; it wasn’t worth their time to dwell on it.

The tray was full of pastries, tiny quiches, and, most importantly, a steaming pot of tea. Evienne poured Cecelia a cup and then one for herself before grabbing a buttery pastry filled with chocolate and settling back into the downy cushions of the couch.

“So, tell me about your week. It’s been a few days since we had time to catch up,” Cecelia sighed as she nestled further into the couch, cradling her cup of tea.

“I suppose my week has been alright. We dealt with a massive raid on Cambrie the other day, but I’m sure you already heard about that. Too close to the city for my comfort, but it seems that’s becoming a trend. There were so many of them. I feel there’s more I could be doing to find where these things are coming from. After all these years I should have figured it out.”

Cecelia worried her lip, her brow slightly furrowed as she studied her friend. “Evi, I’ve known you since we were girls, and no matter what the situation or how much you’ve run yourself ragged for those around you, you always feel there’s more you could be doing.”

“Well, that’s because there is,” Evienne stated matter-of-factly. Cecelia rolled her eyes.

“We’ve talked about this before. You’re worth more than what you can do for other people, the queens and all of Ichorna included. You are a great example for the other Sangviere, and you’ve worked so hard to earn every bit of success you’ve had. The queens see you not just as their advisor, but as their friend. You have to be kinder to yourself.”

Evienne realized she was grimacing without meaning to. Intellectually, she knew her friend was right. She would give anyone she cared about the same advice. But it just felt so much… safer to give people concrete reasons to keep her around. She supposed this feeling was a holdover from her marriage with Dominique, though she knew in her heart nothing she did, no value she could provide, would have made her emotionally safe in that situation.

Evienne sighed deeply, closing her eyes to let the steam from her tea roll over her face in soft waves. “I know you’re right—I really do. It’s just so uncomfortable to feel as confident as I seem to everyone else. I keep waiting for everyone to find out I’m secretly a fraud.”

“But you’re not a fraud,” Cecelia laughed. “How could you think that? Do you not remember all of our years of studying together? I certainly do, though I’ve tried to block out Professor LeBeau’s class specifically…”

Evienne joined her friend in laughter before sipping her tea. “Thank you for your confidence in me. I do not know what I’d do without your friendship, truly.”

Cecelia reached over to squeeze her arm. “You will always have my friendship, Evi. I just want you to see yourself the way the people who care about you do.”

“Alright, enough about me. Tell me about your week.”

“ Well ,” Cecelia started with mischief lighting her eyes, “I saw Jac again.”

“The nobleman from Wellsah?” Evienne exclaimed.

Cecelia nodded, her whole face lit with a smile. “He’s so kind, Evi, and he said he’ll be back for the celebration starting next week!”

Evienne’s heart was so happy for her friend; she deserved to be courted by someone kind. Evienne had only met the Wellsah noble once, but he had struck her as genuine and his demeanor had been jovial.

“That’s wonderful! I hope you get to spend some quality time with him,” Evienne said, winking at her friend. Cecelia swatted her arm and devolved into laughter.

After the two each finished their second cup of tea, Cecelia rose from the couch, dusting pastry crumbs from her mustard yellow jacket and skirt.

“Want to come pull a few books with me?” She asked brightly. “I have a new research project I’m starting, and I need to gather my sources.”

“Of course, I’d love to,” Evienne answered with a smile. She cherished every moment she spent doing simple things with Cece.

The women made their way around the library, Cecelia leading with confidence, pulling books as she went. She knew every inch of this place like the back of her hand.

Their last book was hidden on a shelf in the very far corner of the library. The light from the stained glass windows didn’t quite reach here, leaving the shelves in shadow. As Cecelia scanned for the book she needed, Evienne browsed the titles as well, her head tilted to the side to read the spines of the books.

The titles in this section seemed to be histories of the various lands of Domhan na Rùin, like Illathi: People of Illusion , An Agricultural History of Wellsah , and Daosbor and the Founding of the Dead City …Evienne’s eyes scanned the titles until one jumped out at her. The words were written down the green leather spine in faded gold leaf: Beitar’s Folklore: Tales of the Tuanadair.

Evienne’s hand reached out and her fingers grazed the cool leather. She pulled the tome out, and a clicking sound, followed by a loud thud cut sharply through the silence of the shadowy corner. Cecelia gasped and turned, and the two friends stared at each other in shock.

“What was that?” Cecelia finally asked, moving toward where Evienne stood with the book in her hand.

“No idea,” Evienne said, taking a deep breath to calm her racing heart.

Cecelia took the book from Evienne and examined it, finding nothing unusual. She then turned and ducked slightly to look into the empty space the book had left on the shelf. She gasped softly and cautiously put her hand into the space. Whatever it was she had found, Evienne assumed they should probably discuss it before Cece went sticking her hand in dark corners.

Evienne tried to peer around her friend’s shoulder to get a look at the spot where the book had been, but before she could see anything, a deep rumbling groan sounded from behind the shelf.

The whole thing swung inward.

Cecelia yelped in surprise as she lurched forward with the unexpected motion, catching herself the moment before she fell down the staircase that had been revealed where the shelf had been solid a second before. “It’s a secret door!” Cecelia whisper-squealed.

“You didn’t know about this?” Evienne whispered back, unsure of why they were whispering, but too startled not to. Cecelia shook her head, eyes wide, and turned to stare down into the gloom of the passage.

Evienne could hardly believe there was a single undocumented inch of this library. Ichorna was a scholarly nation, and this was its capital. Generations of accomplished scholars and librarians had tended this collection.

“We should probably go down there, right?” Cecelia said finally.

Evienne wasn’t one to shy away from a little adventure—she was capable of protecting herself and her friend, and she had the unfortunate compulsion to know everything all the time. They were going to have to go down there or she wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it, and she knew Cece would feel the same way. So, she pricked her palm and summoned a handful of her blood fire to light their way. They descended the stairs into a small, dusty room full of floor-to-ceiling shelves.

Cecelia was immediately at a shelf, looking over all the titles.

“Oh, Evi, can you imagine! A whole room of books we didn’t know about? I don’t understand how this isn’t documented in our records, but at least now I can catalog all of them!” Cecelia said excitedly.

Evienne hummed in agreement, taking in the thick layer of dust that covered every surface in the tiny room.

“Does it look like there’s a theme? Do the books have anything in common?” Evienne asked.

“They do…it seems like they’re all very old histories of Beitar and collections of their folklore,” Cecelia said slowly.

“Why would a bunch of our books about Beitar be hidden away? I know they’re a bit reclusive, but they are our neighbors. It’s not like we shy away from talking about them,” Evienne mused.

“No idea, but I intend to find out,” Cecelia answered as she continued browsing through the books. After a moment, she pulled a massive tome off the shelf. It was protected by an ancient-looking velvet sleeve. A Complete History of Ichorna was written across the front of the book in black stamped letters.

“Another Complete History… wonderful,” Evienne said sarcastically.

“Oh, Evi, stop. I know you hated history class, but it really wasn’t that bad.” Cecelia summoned her magic into a soft red light in her palm. The red was meant to avoid damaging fragile pages.

“Why is there more than one complete history anyway? Isn’t the point that one has everything?” Evienne watched as Cecelia carefully opened the book to the title page.

“You’re so literal sometimes,” Cecelia said with a scoff. “Obviously, this one is much older than the one we studied, and it seems to have been lost for quite some time. Curious that it was included with all of these books on Beitar.”

They both leaned in to look at the dusty page.

Published in the year 501 per the calendar of Domhan na Rùin

“Well, that’s not what I expected,” Cecelia said with a hint of awe. “This book isn’t just old—it’s five hundred years old.”