“I spotted him tailing Prince Eithan’s group, so I followed him back to the inn and tried to catch him off guard, but…well, it was obvious he wouldn’t let me escape without a fight, so I defended myself. But then my hood fell back, and he saw—” She didn’t need to elaborate. Elric knew what she insinuated.
Lacing his hands together in his lap, he looked towards the hearth and nodded. “He’s dead.” It wasn’t a question.
She squeezed her eyes shut and said nothing before ducking her head and pretending to inspect her stubby fingernails. Noticing her awkward behavior, he looked at her again, fear creeping into his features.
“Vera.”
“No,” she said for what felt like the hundredth time. She swallowed and fisted her hands to calm her nerves. “I didn’t kill him. I had the chance, and I should have but…” she paused before racing on.
“It doesn’t even matter! I didn’t kill him, and he’s probably far away from here by now anyway. I don’t know for sure.” At the look on Elric’s face, she stopped, rolling her lips in.
He stared at her for what felt like an eternity as he silently processed her words. Standing abruptly, he began to pace in front of the hearth, rubbing his hand across his head. “You knew better! Gods, Vera, you damn well knew better!”
Shame soured her insides and the flush that spread to her cheeks angered her. Like always, when she was angry, words spewed from her mouth like vomit before she could think twice.
“Why does it matter? Yes, he realized I’m not exactly from around here, but so what? I’m apparently not the only one on this continent. He’s in no position to blab.” She threw her hand over her mouth, but it was too late.
“What did you just say?” Eyes wide, he grabbed at her wrist, fingers digging in almost painfully. “Was he from Bhasura? A Magyki?”
She didn’t understand why he was freaking out. She knew the situation wasn’t ideal, but his panic was different—precise and brittle—like he might hyperventilate at any moment.
She ripped her arm out of his grasp. “What aren’t you telling me, Elric?”
“Dammit girl, did it ever occur to you that you have been tucked away with nothing but me and iron for company for a reason? It would have been bad enough for someone around here to question your heritage, but a Magyki?” He closed his eyes, his stoic mask falling back in place. “Are you sure?”
Worried her legs might give out at any moment, Vera shuffled past him and sat on the edge of her bed. Her exhaustion was palpable.
“Positive. He called me zhu, the native term for a Magyki female. I think he could tell by the smell of my blood.” She wrinkled her nose at the reminder. “And then he got the upper hand for a moment, and he touched my ear.” She shifted and subconsciously reached for it.
“That’s how I was able to get away. I took advantage of his distracted attention and knocked him out. After that, I just ran.” She conveniently left out the fact it’d occurred right outside and how she’d stood there ogling him like a lunatic before leaving.
Elric came to sit next to her. He took a deep breath and held it for several seconds before releasing it loudly.
“The emperor will need to know this. Now—don’t give me that look. The simple fact that a Magyki was this far inland is cause for concern enough, but also seeing you? I know that sounds extreme, Vera, but I just need you to trust me. I can’t tell you more than that.”
He patted her on the knee. “I would tell you if I could. Truly. But it’s not my place. All I can say is that, depending on who that male was, and what all he realized, it could be a problem.”
Vera stared at her hands trying to process that. The emperor? Magyki weren’t welcome anywhere on Aleron. How could it possibly be safe to tell the emperor about her? And why would he care if another Magyki saw her?
None of it made sense. Elric knew something about her. He’d apparently always known something and had never told her. Something important enough to scare him.
She wanted to shake him and demand he tell her everything, but Vera had lived with him long enough to know he wouldn’t utter another word.
Not his place. Okay, then who’s place was it? She scowled and fisted her hands in her lap until she felt the bite of her nails against her palms.
Elric straightened his spine. “I will alert Prince Eithan that I encountered a Magyki tailing him tonight while out walking with you. Given your appearance, I’ll have to admit he attacked you before he escaped.” She bristled but otherwise remained quiet.
“That alone should be enough to convince his highness to return. I do not feel it necessary to say anything else to him about your specific involvement. I suggest you keep any other details to yourself.”
She looked down at her hands. “I’m tired, Elric. It’s been a long night, and I had my ass handed to me pretty good, so I’d like to rest while I can.”
He nodded, giving her knee one final pat before heaving himself up off the bed and heading for the door. Stopping with his hand on the doorknob, he turned to her.
“I’m glad you’re safe, Vera. I should have said that from the beginning.”
The second he stepped out of the room, she fell backward on the bed, pulling her knees to her chest. What on Aleron could he be hiding from her? Elric had quickly figured out her origin when she was a child, but he’d never admitted to knowing more than that.
Grunting in frustration, she rolled to her side, wanting nothing more than to curl into a ball. But a sharp edge dug into her waist. Oh!
She’d almost forgotten about the stolen dagger and sleeping with an unsheathed blade would not have done her injured body any favors. She agonizingly sat back up and threw off her cloak. Removing the weapon from her waist, she jolted so hard she almost dropped it.
It wasn’t possible. The coincidence was too great. But as she turned the blade in her hands and angled the handle towards the hearth for better light, she couldn’t deny it. It was identical to a dagger she currently had hidden in a chest of clothes in her room back in Matherin.
The blade itself was rippled, designed as if to imitate waves, and it was deadly sharp. The cross-guard was curved in opposite directions on either side, giving it an ‘S’ shape. But it was the grip that held the true beauty.
It was crafted from bleached bone and etched into the surface was the most elegant script Vera had ever seen. It circled the entire handle down to the pommel. She had no idea what it said, but it was beautiful, she knew that much.
She’d found the original dagger not long after Elric had begun training her. It’d been tucked away in the armory, dusty and forgotten with several other basic daggers. Matherin guards tended to only use long swords, so daggers often went unused.
There had been something about the blade that had drawn her to it. It was unique and enchanting. Even as a child she appreciated its raw beauty and had cleaned it up and hidden it in her room.
Vera let her body flop back on the mattress. It was a Bhasurian blade. Why would Elric have had it? It was just more evidence proving he knew something she didn’t.