Page 82 of Bloodgrove

A girl of perhaps six appeared around the corner, accompanied by two black borzois, one small fist buried in the fur of the nearer dog. They followed obediently, their muzzles lowered to her height.

“Oh, Elodie, you have not met our youngest yet!” Mr. Arcos stroked the girl’s head. “It is a shame you no longer visit. The children love seeing you.”

Elodie smiled and nodded. Only then did Will realize that she was every bit as uncomfortable as he was, just as out of place amid this familial happiness. Whatever her childhood had been like when her sisters were still alive, it had not resembled this lively chaos. He thought of the vast, dark corridors of the Ormonde townhouse, and his heart ached for the childhood she never had.

“Eric is in his room,” a soft voice said from the doorway leading to the stairwell. A woman just old enough to be presented in society stood there—the female likeness of her brother. Her eyes were solemn where his were hard, but they shared the same high cheekbones, pitch-black hair, and tall figure.

“Claire, it is good to see you again,” Elodie said.

“I would like to say the same, but you are a destructive tumor.” She delivered it with the complete composure only Eric’s sister could possess and did not so much as blink when her mother scolded her.

“Do not say such things!”

The sister on the sofa giggled, while their father shook his head in dismay.

“It is all right,” Elodie replied, drawing Will along with her. “I will not be staying long.”

They had to pass Claire, who glared at them with folded arms. “Like always. You never stay. My brother is an idiot for wasting even a single thought on you.”

“It is good to see you,” Elodie said meekly before they fled the sitting room. “You look well.”

Claire clicked her tongue. “Your black soul is beginning to show on your face.”

Elodie navigated the townhouse with purpose and opened the wrong door only once. Behind the next, they found Eric, and Will had to smile—he had been right after all.

Bloodgrove’s ambassador sat in an armchair beside the fire, a book resting in his lap, so absorbed in the text that he seemed oblivious to the chaos on the floor below. Bookshelves stretched around the study, the volumes standing spine to spine like an army of leather-bound soldiers.

A sequence of rooms opened to one side: a large, empty hall with weapons mounted upon the walls, and beyond it a bedroom with a neatly made bed. Every wall was painted dark green, but here there were none of the paintings or small details that made the rest of the house feel alive. Only the windowsill behind his desk was crowded with chestnut animals, paper airplanes, drawings, and framed embroideries. They covered every inch, forming an arch around his workspace.

As Will looked at the man he had believed he understood—or at least whose rules he thought he knew—everything split open and new depths revealed themselves. How soft Eric’s eyes were when he looked up, expecting someone from his family. And how terrible it was to watch his expression harden and the blades return to his gaze.

“What are you doing here?” He snapped the book shut and rose.

“Claire said you were here.” Elodie settled into the other armchair, while Will remained standing awkwardly after closing the door behind them.

“She speaks to you again?”

“Only to insult me. Apparently, I am a parasite with a black soul.”

The corner of Eric’s mouth curled. “When she is right…”

“We came to ask for your help,” Will interjected before the two of them could descend into their endless bickering. “We want to discover how Wilkinson transports goods across the border.”

Eric twisted his mouth. “He is unbearable in the Senate. Some days he behaves as though he personally pays the blood toll; on others, he lies and claims the King opens the gates for him. As though the King has any control over them.”

Will’s attention sharpened, but Elodie was already speaking. “I am glad I don’t have to listen to the two of you boast all day,” she scoffed. “So it is in your interest as well that we discover how he does it.”

Elodie quickly outlined her plan, and at last Eric nodded. “Agreed. But you have to explain to my siblings why I am not home for the solstice. They already hate you.” Whatever he saw in Elodie’s eyes made him turn his face away. “That is not what I meant. They miss you. Claire too.”

“I know. But if I remember correctly, you banished me from your house.”

“Because you threatened to burn it down with me in it!”

“It was metaphorical!”

Will stepped between them and raised his hands. “Truly? You cannot stop even for the sake of a common enemy?”

“Enemy? Wilkinson is my fiancé!”