she wasn’t going to risk his investigation because Lord Julyan made a fuss that she was still just an apprentice.
It was dark outside, but the dining hall was pleasantly lit with elven lanterns. Fruit and a few other treats were left on silver trays, littering the big table—which was almost covered from end to end with paper. Arvel sat at the center of the table, his head bent as he studied Lord Julyan’s personal logs and made notations on the side.
Myth muffled a yawn with her fist and slightly shook her head, trying to shake her mind awake.
“You can go, if you like,” Arvel offered. “Arion said he’d leave a squad on standby to take you to the Translators’ Circle and guard the place all night.”
“You already told me I could leave earlier in the night,” Myth reminded him. “And my answer remains the same. As long as you work, so shall I.”
Arvel dropped his quill and rotated his wrist, making it crack. “Thank you, Myth. It makes me happy that you’re here.”
Myth peered around the dining room. “It would be lonely to work here alone.”
They were the only two in the dining room—although Myth knew that two squads of Honor Guards stood outside the room’s entrance and the servants’ door, and three more squads stood watch outside the windows.
Furthermore, several Honor Guards were already in position by her room in the Translators’ Circle—or so she had been told. She hadn’t returned to her room, yet, to confirm it.
It seemed Sir Arion and Prince Benjimir weren’t allowing any room for mishaps that night.
It’s sobering to admit, but it’s another reason why I don’t regret staying up with Arvel. It’s fairly likely Lord Julyan will attempt some sort of retribution—although once King Petyrr sanctions a search of the Fulton house I imagine he’ll have greater worries than me.
“Yes, but working alone is not what I was referring to.”
Myth swung her eyes back to him so fast her whole body almost toppled over.
Is it Him? Has the Prince of Seduction arrived? It sounds like something He would say.
She studied Arvel and relaxed. His grin was lopsided, but it possessed too much good humor, and his eyes didn’t smolder, but sparkled instead.
It’s just Arvel saying kind things—as usual.
The thought brought an odd pang to Myth’s heart—which was ridiculous. She didn’t like the Prince of Seduction—she couldn’t handle him! And it was good Arvel said kind things to others—it meant he would be a kind ruler.
“I want to thank you again for being willing to retrieve these records.” Arvel rested his hand on one of the two black, leather-bound books. “I don’t know how we could have done it without you. And it was incredibly brave of you to salvage them—particularly when this matter doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
Myth drummed up a smile. “I’m glad I could bring them. Though I will confess, I was terrified most of the time.”
“Really? Thad said you were such a smooth operator he was tempted to give your name to the Department of Investigation. And Arion said you handled yourself admirably when you handed the books off.”
She stared at one of the trays of refreshments as she recalled her stuttering heartbeat. “It pleases me to hear neither Sir Arion nor his men realized how frightened I was. But in the end, I am glad you can use those records.” She paused, and twisted to look inquiringly at Arvel. “You can use them, yes?”
“Absolutely,” Arvel assured her. “I already have enough copied down to give Father a reason to investigate the Fulton town house and their family home on Fulton lands. It’s over for Uncle Julyan—and as a result Mother’s power will be greatly limited as well, since she was always the one who submitted their trade requests and used her position to demand changes to their orders.”
Myth studied him, trying to gauge his feelings based on the set of his mouth and the slant of his brows, but he merely seemed…tired. “How are you dealing with this?”
“I don’t know quite what you mean?”
“This is your mother’s family. They have wronged you, but you have a valiant soul.”
He tapped his fingers on the edge of the table. “Does that mean something special?”
“It means that the foul actions of others cause you pain, because you know they’re wrong.”
Arvel laughed and let his head drop back on his neck so he stared up at the ceiling. “It is astounding how well you know me.”