Page 25 of The Thief and the Traitor Bride

There have been reports of thefts on the [EPRAINISH] coastal holds—signature looks similar to Darinot. Perhaps running blockades? He has not been conscripted for Luthar, nor otherwise taken up arms in any official capacity.

REDACTED–4.8.1633

Darinot sighting confirmed. Thief caught escaping Eprainish house, fled to a ship and port guard gave chase. Ship assumed to be carrying Darinot spotted later flying Stratan colors. As requested, I did not interfere.

She noted the date on the next piece—it was a few months after the Idistran war had concluded. So he had spent the rest of his time in Idistra during the war doing… what? Raiding? Assisting pirates? She frowned, considering the implications of not knowing. If he had connections to the Idistran criminal underground, there was every chance he could easily slip from her clutches, steal away in the night, and be off the island before daybreak.

REDACTED–13.10.1633

We attended the soiree to make a connection with [REDACTED]. While there, [REDACTED] had the most enchanting encounter with a dark-haired man who noted her Lindle accent. He claimed to have spent time there and they reminisced. She realized afterwards that her noted observations from this morning were removed from her pocket.

There was a gap between reports, Nore noted, spanning most of 1634. What were you up to? she thought to herself—she imagined Celestine, too, had found the gap maddening. Then:

REDACTED–6.11.1635

I am afraid I have bad news. [REDACTED] was reported stolen last evening. There is no trace of magic, no evidence at all left behind from the thief. It is a far distance from Idistra, but is it possible Darinot works for hire?

REDACTED–8.4.1635

It appears Darinot has left Idistra. An unusual number of thefts reported in [PROKAS, ORTISSIA]. Perhaps offering services for hire. Can enquire, if it is of interest?

REDACTED–8.13.1635

[MORISTA’S CROWN] stolen from Ortissia. No trace of thief. For magic to work, needs careful transfer.

REDACTED–13.1.1635

I have made enquiries. No sign of Darinot. Certainly has not returned to [IDISTRA] but may be somewhere north continental.

REDACTED–5.4.1636

Power had another wave of instability this evening. Northern fortress did not have enough to keep the lighthouse sustained; minor workings acceptable. In the darkness, [EPRAS, HIGH LORD OF EPRAIN] found an artifact was stolen from the family crypt. Thief cannot claim responsibility for the instability (we must assume that is Lochan) but the theft was not [LOCKE].

It did not surprise Nore to find that he had worked as a hired sword, a thief of extraordinary objects, and at times, a smuggler. She flipped through the reports of his antics, both growing more concerned that this was someone she used to sleep next to and annoyingly impressed.

It was no wonder Celestine had kept an eye on him. Though it seemed he kept far from Lindan over the years, his entanglements were linked to more than one artifact Nore recognized.

She wanted to be annoyed at Celestine for keeping news of Caspian from her, especially since Celestine was clearly tracking his movements—but she couldn’t really find that in herself, either. After how Nore had reacted when Caspian was captured and brought back to Lindan, she could admit that she wasn’t levelheaded when it came to him.

Perhaps that was why it was a shock when she flipped the page and found the next document to be a letter instead of one of the flat-toned reports.

Nore froze. But she did not stop herself from reading.

Finch,

I cannot stand you. I wish I’d never met you, that you’d walked straight into the sea that night instead of into my life. I never meant to love you, and I curse myself now for the foolishness of allowing it.

Can you just fucking write back? X​X​ X​X​X​ X​X​ X​X​X​ X​X​ X​X​X​X​X​X​X​X​ X​ X​X​X​X​X​X​X​ X​X​X​ X​ X​X​X​X​X​ X​X​X​ X​X​X​X​X​X​X​X​ X​X​ X​X​X​X​ X​X​X​X​X​ X​X​X​X​ X​X​ X​X​X​X​ X​X​ X​X​X​X​ X​X​ X​X​ X​X​X​X​ X​X​X​X​

Cas

Her hands shook as she read it over and over again. It was from just a few months after he was banished. She rubbed a finger over the redaction, the thick black ink of the Lindle censor, and dreaded what was brutal enough to warrant removal.

There were six letters total in the dossier: all in a similar vitriolic tone, all detailing Caspian’s venomous hatred for her, all sent within the first years of his banishment. Nore read them again and again, her fingers tracing over the familiar shape of his handwriting, feeling every spot in which his pen had torn through the paper.

Nore closed her eyes. Took a breath to steady herself. Crumpled the dossier and the letters and shoved them deep in the pockets of her coat.

No one questioned her as she stalked up the stairs and onto the deck. It was gray and cloudy out, and other passengers who had braved the cold sat in a cluster under one of the protected canopies, watching the sailors work.