Page 188 of House Ignis

My relief snapped instantly into sharp irritation. "Gods, Jules, do you enjoy shaving years off my life?"

She winced, shoving her glasses back onto her face. "Not my intention."

I tilted my head, watching her properly now.

The flushed cheeks. The crooked, dazed grin. The way she practically vibrated with secret energy.

Slowly, my own lips curved into a smirk.

"Wait. Where were you last night?"

Her eyes went wide.

"Okay, let's—let's sit down first," she stammered, grabbing my arm and tugging me toward our table.

I let her pull me, a small laugh escaping me. She fumbled with the parchment like a woman possessed.

“So?” I asked, propping my chin on my hand. “You going to tell me or what?”

She groaned, her face turning scarlet. "Fine. Okay. I spent the night with Darcy."

My jaw dropped.

“Don’t look at me like that!”

“I’m not looking at you like anything!”

“AVA!”

"I'm just—well, shocked!" I said, throwing my hands up.

"I knew you two were flirting, but I didn't know it was a thing."

She ducked her head, muttering as she shuffled parchment. I softened, my voice turning gentler. "I just… I don't want her to hurt you, Jules."

That made her pause. She looked at me, her gaze steady behind her lenses, and smiled faintly. "I'm tougher than you think."

"I know," I admitted. "I know you are."

She fussed with her notes again, whispering, "I know I'm not her usual type, but… she just gets me."

Warmth bloomed in my chest, a rare moment of light amidst the gloom. "Well, I'm happy for you. Really."

Her shoulders loosened, and the smile finally reached her eyes.

"Okay. Enough about me. Let's do this." She shoved the journal between us, her fingers still trembling, but this time from ink-stained adrenaline instead of embarrassment.

"Let's see what your brother was hiding."

I leaned in, my breath shallow as the symbols became sentences. Finally, she exhaled and pushed the paper toward me. "Read."

"The silence is worse than fangs. He doesn't speak often, only watches. Sometimes I think I am a specimen. Sometimes I think I am prey. He called Aelmyra a sanctuary, but the walls feel like bars. He asked questions I did not want to answer, about the Guard, about Father.

I refused, but he only smiled like he already knew. I fear he does. I keep asking about Solas. He never answers. Gods, I think he has her. I think he's keeping her from me—feeding her to something. Maybe to them. The wyverns. I hear their wings at night. Their shadows pass across the walls. Sometimes I swear I hear her scream."

My blood went ice-cold. My fingers shook so hard I almost dropped the paper.

Jules pressed her lips together, then flipped the page of the journal. It was blank.