Page 59 of Harbinger

I look to Bishop again, but when our eyes meet, something dark flashes in his before he looks away.

“That’s enough,” Lenora announces and beckons me to stand. “Let me show you to your room. You need to rest. I’ll bring up some proper clothes while you have a bath.” She shakes her head at Bishop. “Making a lady wear clothing meant for a soldier.”

He leans back in his chair, amusement tugging the corners of his lips. “My mother wore the same.”

“I don’t mind,” I say. Although the idea of something clean is tempting. “I don’t want to cause trouble.”

“Since when?” Bishop asks, earning a swat to the back of the head from Lenora.

“I’m sure that if she caused you any trouble, you asked for it,” she says, but her eyes gleam as she leads me toward the hallway.

“Not the western wing,” Bishop calls after us.

Lenora sighs, grumbling under her breath. “Off-limits.”

We’re just out of the great room when I hear Taliesin say, “She’s feisty. Maybe you’re wrong.”

“Without him, she’d be dead in a week,” Vessica says flatly. “I wouldn’t put it past Calix to come after her, even here.”

“That would start a war,” Taliesin replies, not sounding the least bit perturbed. “Maybe she is the harbinger.”

He says it like I’m a fuse that’s already been lit.

“Come along, Lady Icaros.” Lenora ushers me away before I can hear Bishop’s response.

“Arden,” I correct her. Hearing my family name is too painful, even if I’d rather be Arden Icaros than whatever the Stars chose for me. “If you don’t mind.”

“Of course, Arden,” she says softly.

Lenora points out every room we pass, her pride evident. “That’s the library. Don’t let him catch you in there after dark; he’s particular about his books. I don’t even bother going in there anymore.”

I take note of its double doors. Libraries hold answers. It’s worth checking out.

“The armory’s down there.” She nods to an iron-barred door. “If you need anything sharper than a kitchen knife, just ask.”

I sincerely doubt Bishop plans to arm me, but I nod. It never hurts to know where to find a sword.

Lenora continues cheerfully. “Oh, and the music room is by the front door, not that anyone uses the piano since … Well, it’s been too long. Do you play?”

“No.” There was never time for lessons.

We climb a grand staircase that empties into a long, narrow gallery where the windows change from stained glass to something else—clear but with lines etched into the surface. At first, I think it’s decorative, but then I see the patterns. Nochtimetry.

I trace a finger along the windowsill as we pass. “These are wards.”

“Miradores is full of them.” She nods. “This house is built to withstand a siege. Or worse.”

What could be worse than a siege? I’m not about to ask.

She moves on, but I linger to study the lines. The entire estate is beautiful but also intimidating—and the nochtimetry feels like it’s there to keep people in as much as out. I’m not sure which applies to me.

When I catch up, Lenora is waiting in front of a heavy wooden door. She opens it and ushers me inside.

It’s at least twice the size of my bedroom in Damalis. My heart squeezes at the thought of my old home, but I ignore it. Painted pale blue, the suite is feminine in a way that’s at odds with the rest of the estate. The bed’s canopy is trimmed with lace. Perfume bottles rest on the desk, and a low settee waits near the fireplace.

Lenora heads straight to the claw-foot tub in the attached bathing chamber and starts the water. Its brass tap is shaped like a wolf’s head, the horns labeled hot and cold. Towels are stacked on a stool next to it along with a basket of soaps wrapped in paper and tied with silk ribbons. The floor is tiled in moonstone that catches the light of a gold leaf chandelier.

“This is a very … nice room,” I say, failing to come up with a better word.