Page 28 of The Awakening of Essensia

“Besides,” Freya went on, “there’s what, fifteen books in this whole town? Ten of them about farming.”

Vaelira looked up slowly.

Freya’s gaze was steady. “You want answers? What better place to start than the Royal Library?”

“I didn’t say I wanted answers.”

“No,” Freya said. “But you’re thinking about them.”

The clatter of blunted swords rang through the training room. Light angled through the high windows, catching dust in the air and the sheen of sweat on bare shoulders.

Eli stood shirtless at the centre of the room, skilfully parrying a blow before countering. His form was efficient, more control than brute force, but no less dangerous. The soldier he faced stumbled back, breathing hard.

She let her gaze linger. He was stronger than she had first thought, lean muscle coiled beneath slick skin, each movement precise and fluid.

A murmur passed through the group and Eli turned, his expression as unreadable as ever. He handed off his blade to a nearby guard and strode towards her, grabbing his shirt from a bench pushed against the wall.

“Didn’t expect you down here,” he said, pulling the shirt over his head. He took a step closer, pushing his damp hair from his face. The smell of leather and sweat, and a hint of something else reached her.

Somewhere, deep behind her ribcage, she acknowledged that he was attractive, but the usual sensation that came with it didn’t surface. Freya was right. All she wanted was answers.

“That night, you told me it was a moonstone. You didn’t ask how I found it.”

He glanced over his shoulder, lowering his voice. “Not here.”

“Eli—”

“I’ll come to you. Tonight. My room.” A pause. “Well, your room now I suppose.”

He turned, moving back into the sparring circle, rejoining the match. He was so much faster than the others, each move sharper than his opponents. He knew things, and tonight, she would find out what they were.

Someone brought dinner to her room, but her stomach objected, the aromas of meat and cheese making her nauseous.

After trying out several seating positions, none of them seemed right. Every time she sat still, memories of that night surged.

Dark veins, pale skin, the slice of a blade.

She waited, watching the night grow darker beyond the window. She climbed down from her seat in the middle of the bed and closed the curtains.

The fire cracked.

Two quiet knocks sounded.

Vaelira jumped, banging her toe on the leg of the bed. She swore loudly.

The door opened and Eli entered. He looked down at her, head tilted as she hopped around on one foot. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, arms crossed in front of him. He huffed a quiet laugh and walked to the hearth, glancing briefly at the untouched tray.

“You didn’t eat.”

“Not hungry,” she said, returning to her seat on the bed.

He moved to the armchair, sinking down slowly.

She rubbed her palms together, trying to settle her nerves. “The stone?” she said.

Eli raised a brow. “Moonstone,” he corrected, leaning back in the chair and crossing his ankle over a knee.

“You knew what it was. That night. You didn’t ask how I found it.”