Page 46 of Spring Guardians & Songbirds

I handed her a piece of paper with the list of the temples we had searched so far. “None had a veil or any other rooms besides the main prayer one. Most are used as confessionals or school and activity rooms for children, women and the elderly. Three had more than a basic veil around it and it was only to safeguard a few artefacts of Henah, none worth much magic or price besides spiritual value. What about Olympia?”

“We only have twelve in total. It didn’t take long to have them all searched. They are all open spaces with no walls or rooms, no undergrounds or secret entrances. There are similar inscriptions as that in the Isjordian temple everywhere in Olympia, but no sign of the damned sceptre piece.”

“What about the one in Myrdur? The dragon temple used to be a fascination for many. And if I remember to have read correctly, it had many rooms and tunnels underneath.”

Her eyes snapped to me. “It’s completely destroyed. There is nothing but rock left where it once stood.”

“Have you searched underneath the ruins?”

“No. But Silas’s soldiers are heading toward the Volants. They go over it.”

“Have someone search it just in case the magic of the mist and the dead lingering on the ruins are not confusing Melanthe’s tracking.”

She swallowed hard, gaze drifting to the floor.

“Cai. You don’t want to dig up the ruins because of Cai.”

She pinned a glare on me. “It’s not in the ruins.”

My blood turned bitter and envious like it had never before. “I’m jealous how you care for him. Terribly jealous,” I said, going over the documents Atlas had found in Sidra. Few mentioned the island of Nephthys and its purpose to guard the hand of the divine though nothing specific about it, but the young priest had been confident that I’d find something, anything if we searched the fine print. Whoever had a hand in concealing the sceptre must have missed at least something.

She huffed, reaching for another apple all across the table, her hair brushing past my fingers, sliding through her locks. Barely a touch, but my eyes drew shut at the feeling I’d missed most—touching her.

“Take a bite,” she said, holding the fruit before my mouth. “Gods know you dip these things in poison.”

“I was eating them.”

“Darling, I bet you drink poison with your toast just for the taste of it.”

My eyes drew shut. “Enough, woman.”

“Enough what?”

“Torturing me like this. Carve my heart out and be done with it.”

Her eyes dropped to where my fingers had tangled through a few strands of her hair before they rose defiant to mine again. “Just take the bite, Your Majesty, before you kill my appetite like you killed my mother.”

Perhaps I’d carved my own heart out the day I decided to be her villain.

Holding on her wrist, I pulled the fruit to my mouth and took a bite.

When she leaned back on the table, I noted a thin, red scar stretched on her forearm. “Where did you get that?”

She glanced down at the injury and then at me. “Fogling attacks. The dungeons don't really fight back to my dismay.”

Nia had mentioned something about them. I just hadn't realised how much of a problem they were to Snow and Olympia. “How long have you been dealing with these Fogling creatures?”

“Long, for twenty-seven years, but they only recently began turning dangerous. Why, does it make you happy? You can smile if you want.”

I grabbed her chin and pulled her face down to me. “I’ve missed you being sassy with me.”

She took a bite from the apple, chewing slowly. A distraction. She was breathing fast, her pulse was all over the place and I could practically read the fear in her eyes. “Tell me you’re not scared of me.”

She looked offended. “I’m not.”

Truth. She was not. “Good girl.” But there was something else and I couldn’t tell what.

She swallowed. “Are you scared of me?”