Page 117 of The Faceless Queen

“Whispering that Lord Kienan, who is also from Spartva, has never suffered from the affliction that seems to have confined you to your rooms.”

“I’m not in my room,” I said.

“It doesn’t matter that you don’t sleep here. You have confined yourself. You’re not gossiping with the noblewomen, nor sewing, nor picking wildflowers or whatever Godsdamned activity they deem worthy of their time.”

I’d thought of that, but the noblewomen, so obsessed with their own lives, would give me nothing to feed from. And I’d only lose more energy in their presence. I didn’t expect the Hermit to understand. As far as he was concerned, I needed to use any means necessary. But I was already doing too much. I’d been Olivay for almost two weeks, and it wasn’t getting any easier.

“The hunters return tomorrow,” I said. “I will be more social then.”

“And you will feed. I expect your betrothed has been missing you.”

My stomach turned. “Fine. But for now–I need to rest.”

He rolled his eyes. “Continue reading. Things seem calm. I trust you’ll be all right on your own for one night?”

“On my own? Why? Where are you going?”

There was a flash of indigo in his eyes. He cocked his head to the side, stretching his neck. “To visit a very old friend. And to see how our girl is doing.”

Our girl. The real Olivay.

“Take me,” I said, suddenly.

He laughed.

“Take me with you,” I demanded.

“So you can what? Scare her again? Feed from her? Is that what you’re craving? A little lifeforce from Olivay? Please tell me that’s not why you choose to starve here.”

“No. Gods, no,” I said. That was the last thing I wanted to do to her. But … she’d been a captive for all of this time. Alone, and scared, and I wanted to make sure she was okay, not just to assuage my own guilt, but because I felt like I owed it to Noemay. “I want to check on her.”

“You check on her, and you’ll scare her half to death.”

I sighed. He was right. Plus, I’d be missed at the lodge.

And there was the female witch, whose words still haunted me.

“We meet again.”

“We’ve never met.”

“Not in this life. Not yours anyway.”

I definitely did not want to see her again. Whatever it was that she saw in me, whether it was the Azete or something else, something worse, she made me nervous.

I shook my head. “Just remember what I said. Olivay’s not to suffer, not any more than can be helped.” I retrieved the library books I’d gathered from the table and handed them to the Hermit. “At least give her these. She likes them.”

The Hermit sighed, looking extraordinarily put out by my request, but he finally nodded. “Fine. She will have them. Behave while I’m gone. I plan to return before dawn.”

He headed back into the hall, just as a cold breeze blew through the opened window with such force, it had nearly extinguished the flames. The sky darkened, and I shivered. A storm was coming in. A big one. Hopefully the Hermit would reach the caves before it started. Hopefully Brennan and his men were safe and able to seek warm, and dry shelter when it did. I reached for one of the blankets stored in a trunk beside my chair, and sent for Abigail to stock the library and my bedroom with more firewood. I could tell from the drop in temperature I was going to need it. She set about on her errand, and when she returned, the flames of the fireplace were stoked, bringing much needed warmth and light to the room. And then I continued to read until I was too tired to continue.

When my eyes were beginning to close, I set down my book and stood, debating if it was too early or not for Abigail to help me prepare for bed. It wasn’t as late as it looked outside. But the sky was already overcast and dark, bringing the night early to the clearing.

I headed into my bedroom and looked out the window, feeling a chill in the air, and another running down my spine. Suddenly, a new sound burst through the night, blaring out the calls of the birds.

A horn. A hunting horn.

There were screams from women, and cries that sounded male.