Chapter 14 FOURTEEN
The following morning, a stack of scrolls and ledgers appeared on the small desk in my sitting room, delivered with a silent nod by a guard I didn't recognize. My heart gave a little leap. Kaelen had kept his word. Anya eyed the pile with curiosity but asked no questions, for which I was grateful.
"Anya, I'll be spending the day in the library archives. I don't wish to be disturbed."
"Of course," she said, bobbing a curtsy. "I'll make sure no one bothers you."
The archives were a deeper, dustier level of the library, a labyrinth of shelves crammed with records that were no longer of daily use. Master Fenwick met me at the entrance, his expression a mixture of reluctance and resignation.
"The Lord's orders are clear. You have full access. But I must warn you, these records are fragile. Handle them with care. And... be mindful of the dust. It holds the ghosts of old secrets." He gave me a long, searching look before shuffling away, leaving me alone in the silent, cavernous room.
I started with the household ledgers, my fingers tracing columns of numbers detailing everything from grain shipments to the cost of candles. It was tedious, but I was looking for a pattern, an anomaly. I moved on to the guest lists for past festivals, cross-referencing names with the ledgers, seeing who had received gifts, who had donated to the royal coffers.
Hours slipped by. The dust tickled my nose, and the dim witch-light made my eyes ache. I was about to give up for the day when I found it. A discrepancy. A series of payments, marked as "border fortification," but the sums were huge, and the designated recipient was a vague "Eastern Supply Consortium." I'd never heard of it. And the dates coincided with a period, according to the council minutes I'd secretly skimmed, when Malachi had been overseeing border security.
My pulse quickened. This was a thread.
I was so engrossed I didn't hear the footsteps until a voice spoke from directly behind me.
"Finding everything you need, my lady?"
I jumped, nearly knocking over a precarious stack of scrolls. Lord Malachi stood there, his smile not reaching his eyes. He glanced down at the open ledger, his gaze lingering on the very column I had been studying.
"Lord Malachi," I said, quickly sliding a sheet of blank parchment over the page. "You startled me."
"My apologies. I often find the quiet of the archives... stimulating." He leaned against the shelf, crowding my space. "But I must admit, I am surprised to find you here. I thought your interests lay more in music and tapestries."
"Even the most frivolous of minds can appreciate history," I said, forcing a light tone.
"History," he mused, picking up a random scroll and unrolling it slightly. "Or are you researching more... current events? My cousin seems to be sharing quite a lot with his new confidante. Council meetings. Private dances. Unrestricted access to royal archives." He let the scroll snap shut. "It makes one wonder what else you are privy to."
"I am simply a curious guest, my lord. The Lord is merely indulging me."
"Indulging you," he repeated, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "Or is he using you? You are a clever girl. You must see it. You are a shield. A pretty distraction while he enacts policies that weaken us. And when you are no longer useful, or when the court's patience for his... eccentricity... wears thin, he will discard you. And where will you be then?"
He moved closer, his presence oppressive. "My offer still stands. Align with me. Tell me what he is planning. Who he meets with. What he truly thinks of the old noble families. Be my eyes, and I will ensure you have more than a temporary room in the guest wing. I will ensure you have a permanent place of power."
My mouth was dry. This was the second time he had outright asked me to spy for him. The irony was almost laughable.
"I have no information to give you, Lord Malachi. And I do not seek a place of power. I am content with my current situation."
"Are you?" He reached out and brushed a speck of dust from my sleeve, his touch making my skin crawl. "We shall see. The harvest festival is in three days. A time of... revelation. I do hope you enjoy surprises, Lady Elara."
He gave me a final, lingering look and then turned and disappeared between the shelves, his footsteps echoing faintly.
I stood there, my heart thumping, my hands clenched. He was circling, his threats becoming more direct. The harvest festival. He was planning something.
I looked down at the ledger, at the hidden numbers. This was no longer just about my survival or Kaelen's redemption. It was a race. I had to find what Malachi was hiding before he could unveil whatever he had planned for me at the festival.
I carefully copied the relevant figures onto my piece of parchment, my movements swift and sure. The fear was still there, coiling in my stomach, but it was now overshadowed by a cold, sharp determination. Malachi thought I was a pawn to be manipulated or a shield to be used. He was about to find out that dragons, even hidden ones, have very sharp claws.