Page 26 of A Cursed Son
He draws in a deep breath. “It was attacked. Completely burned. There are no survivors.”
A bitter taste settles in my throat and a ringing sound deafens me for a second. I think about the daughter with her quiet resistance, the servant who prepared my bath, the wife-to-be and her rigid posture. It can’t be. “They’re all dead?”
“It looks like it. A messenger arrived not long ago.” He stares at me. “We don’t know who did it. Or why.”
“Marlak.” I can’t believe it, can’t believe I let this happen. “He can manipulate fire. I mean, I’m sure you can’t burn your family with water magic.”
Ziven puts his hands on his head. “Does it make sense, though? If what he wanted was the chalice, he could have taken it.”
He could, but… “Maybe he didn’t want anyone to know he took it.”
Without asking permission, Ziven sits on my bed. “But burning an entire estate is a lot more trouble than just taking it from us, not to mention that we don’t even know if his magic works on our side of the river.”
The faces of the people who live in that house still keep flashing in my mind. I can’t believe it. “You don’t need magic to set something on fire.”
“True. But it could have been anyone. Anyone, Astra.”
I sag on the bed beside him. “We’ll need to tell the truth.”
He nods. “I knew this would be your reaction. You know what? It was the first thought that crossed my mind. I thought people had died for a stupid lie. But then, if we tell a different story, we might get in trouble. We can’t save anyone who died in the fire, but we can still save ourselves.”
“Ziven, it could make a difference.”
“Could it? Let’s suppose we told everyone exactly what happened. What difference would it have made?”
In truth, none. I’m trying to think, trying to find a solution. But there’s no solution, only regret. “We shouldn’t have gifted the chalice.”
“Maybe. But weren’t you the one who said he gave it back to you?” Ziven pauses. I can see that he’s also shaken and confused. “How could anyone guess he actually wanted it? And in truth, we don’t know if it was the disgraced prince. Small lords have rivalries. These things happen.”
“They haven’t happened in years. Now we’re attacked on the Fae Path, and then this happens. Do you really think it’s a coincidence?”
“It could be. They’ll conduct their own investigation. For all they know, he could have sensed we had the chalice and decided to get it later. It doesn’t make a difference whether we fought him or not. We can keep our story.”
“So that’s what you’re worried about.” It seems so petty, so little.
“Yes. I was worried you’d ruin everything. Worried you would put me in danger.” He likely means by revealing his magic.
“I promised I wouldn’t say anything about you, and I won’t.”
His chest rises and falls as he nods. “I appreciate it.”
“Is Marlak a murderer, though?” I shouldn’t have voiced this thought, but it’s too late now.
Ziven frowns. “Is that up for debate?”
“He didn’t hurt us.” It’s not that I’m defending him—or my dreams. I’m just trying to think.
“I know.” He shakes his head. “That’s also strange.”
Then I ask, “How did you hear about the attack?”
“Messengers bringing urgent news aren’t discreet. I pay attention.”
“While sleeping?”
He eyes me, pauses, then says, “I happened to be awake.”
Awake checking messengers coming in and out. He’s quite shrewd. “Thanks for letting me know.” I then decide to ask something else I’ve been wanting to know. “Is all the drinking a lie as well?”
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