Page 51 of A Touch of Shadows

But the words remained there, stubborn and insistent, just like Elodie. As Wren watched, three more words formed from the swirling ink.

Don’t trust them.

Anselm coughed discreetly as he entered the room again and Wren snapped the book closed. ‘Someone will be along with clothes and will help you shortly. If there’s anything else you need, don’t hesitate to ask. I’m here to help.’

Don’t trust them.

‘I’d like to see Finn.’

He smiled again. ‘As soon as the healers are happy to release him, I’m sure he will be here. We could barely tear him away from you to begin with. Are you hungry? Thirsty?’ Wren shook her head, watching him carefully. She saw his eyes flick down to the book in her hand and back up to her face. Had he read it? Had it worked for him the way it did for her?

‘My other belongings…’ she said and then paused. Most of her things were lost in the forest somewhere when she’d first fled Leander.

‘The Grandmaster will explain everything, I’m sure, my lady. And we will provide whatever you need.’

So that was that. No more answers were forthcoming until she saw Roland de Silvius. ‘I’m not a lady,’ she whispered, more to herself than him. ‘I’m just Wren.’

For a moment she saw pity in his eyes, she was sure of it. If not pity then at least understanding of a kind. ‘I’m afraid many things are about to change, Wren,’ he said. ‘You know that, don’t you? Being who you are?’

Who she was? At least it was a who and not a what…

She shook her head, and then sighed when her hair fell over her face again, a veil of black silk that seemed to whisper around her. How she longed for a knife to hack it away and leave her free again. Maybe she should ask him for that?

But no. She doubted they’d give her a knife right now. And she doubted that any lady was meant to cut off her hair as short as possible. Certainly not Roland de Silvius’s daughter.

That was who they all thought she was, wasn’t it? That was what she thought, even though the idea terrified her.

And Elodie’s only advice was not to trust him, which did not bode well. How could it? Elodie had been hiding from him for all of Wren’s life. And hiding Wren from him as well.

Why? What had Roland de Silvius done to her all those years ago?

CHAPTER 30

WREN

Once the healer declared that Wren could leave her room, there was an unexpected flurry of activity around her.

Anselm was effectively banished outside by a very efficient young woman as golden-haired as he was, who took one look at Wren and pursed her lips in a perplexed expression.

‘I suppose we’d better get started as soon as possible,’ she said. ‘I’m Lady Lynette of Goalais, wife of Paladin Knight Yvain of Goalais, who heads the garrison here. Anselm has asked me to make you presentable. The Grandmaster is a busy man so his making this time for you is a great honour.’

And from that moment on, Wren was chivvied along to wash, dress in far too many layers of fabric and her hair was carefully brushed and braided. When she looked at herself in the mirror Lynette had ordered dragged into the infirmary room, she hardly knew the woman standing there.

‘If I had more time and if this little town had more facilities, I could make you worthy of any royal court in the world,’ Lynette said, as she examined Wren with a far more critical eye. ‘It will be better when you finally get back to Pelias. But this is not bad at all. You have good bones.’

And she nodded as if that was the greatest compliment she could give.

‘And your hair, my dear girl…’ She sighed, and reached out to brush her fingertips along the length of Wren’s braid. ‘I know people who would kill for your hair. Right, come along. We cannot keep the Grandmaster waiting.’

Someone opened the door for them and Lynette swept outside. Wren hurried after her, almost too terrified to do anything else. Anselm’s eyes widened as she appeared, but he said nothing and fell into step behind them.

‘Don’t be afraid of him,’ Lynette went on. ‘He’s a good man. But he’s used to leading men, not women. He just looks a bit grim, but he’s really very kind. He has always been our most respected warrior. Yvain tells me that when he was a young knight there were those who made fun of him, because he was shy and could be tongue-tied, but they never did it once they’d seen him fight, I can tell you. Nor when the queen was in earshot. And look at him now. This kingdom would have fallen apart without him. That’s what my husband says. Fallen apart.’

Wren didn’t think she was actually expected to take part in this conversation so she just nodded and hurried along in the unfamiliar skirts. The gown was beautiful, far finer than anything she had ever worn before. Her own clothes had been made for the forest and for hard work. These clothes, soft and delicate, glimmering with bright threads and made of sleek silks, were like nothing she had ever seen.

They stopped in front of a simple door at the end of the corridor. There was nothing unusual about it, and nothing particularly grand. Just a door.

Elodie said not to trust any of them. And given Wren had somehow connected herself with the Nox back in the Ilanthian encampment, that was advice to heed. She wasn’t safe here. She couldn’t be. The Knights of the Aurum existed to combat the Nox. Everyone knew that.